The Scattered Pedals of the Lake

September, 1994

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. It didn't take long for a fire to erupt from it and for the first responders to tackle it.

All thanks to an anonymous tip from their phones.

To call it "a disturbing scene" is an understatement. The horror of a grizzly incident that laid for show past the busted front door. Firefighters were finished putting out the tail end of the flames, almost consuming the flooring past the entrance, a partially charred body falling where it became visible to my perspective.

Light screams momentarily filling the air.

It wasn’t the beginning of what I’d see from it.

When I stumbled past the entrance, several bodies were scattered across being covered in ash and blood wrapped in blankets as though they were trying to escape. Some of the faces remained recognizable, resembling some ghosts of my past, as one of the forensics’ team members rushed to my side examining the harsh slash wound surrounded by the reddish blister of the skin on her side.

“Poor soul… who was trying to kill you? Where were you running to?” I took a moment to stare at the face of a soul now lost and taken in the grasp of its grizzly killer, “It seems as though she was tortured to death by the reaction in the surrounding area, the killer was trying to give her a painful death from the size of the entry wound because she wouldn’t have made it regardless.” He paused.

"Too much blood loss to replace if she did escape and fled to the nearest hospital… gasoline was poured on it.” He concluded.

“It was enough for the body to react seeing as gasoline itself is dangerous for human contact,” the conversation carried on between me and the forensic investigator. “Considering there was a case of a woman who was forced to drink gasoline a few months back, I’d say it’s a miracle she survived but in this case, the entry provided an easier access to her vital organs. Her death was sped up.”

“This man, or woman, was trying to play God…” the horrifying realization sank in while the chief called me over to another part of the house. “Add that to the deck of cards,” I said under my breath while glancing at every detail of the wall carrying a message, “Let there be a second coming.”

The signature was unrecognizable. Left to the side.

While the photographer snapped away at the sound of the shutter, the chief and I went back to the station following my invisible hunch.

The lack of hesitation, following these other worldly senses, permitted me to put together files from unsolved cases of other detectives and happenings of a similar nature laid out potential connections in a web of a sinister mastermind. “This crosses the line of degeneracy.”

“Back in my day, there were hooligans that crossed the line but this… this is a couple of steps too far,” we looked at the board for what felt like hours before the ring of the phone interrupted.

I answered.

“Hello?”

“You like what you’ve seen so far??”

“Who’s this?”

“Let’s just say… I know you’re following me, trying to find me, wanting to be Superman and give those poor families of those victims slaughtered… some peace of mind but, that’s if you can even pinpoint where I am or where I might be.”

I signaled the chief and the software agent to pick up to chime in. Seconds felt as though it was hours, waiting in adrenaline soaking underneath our skin before the tracker can navigate.

Not even sure if we're able to pinpoint her location. No promises, no reassurance that we would before her next strike.

The software agent started to track the phone call left to a brick wall, “You won’t find me this way because I’m always three steps ahead whereas you’re at least seven steps behind.”

The hairs stood up on my neck. “If I want you to find me, Detective Leann, I’ll let you find me in the ways of my choosing… because my ways are not your ways, you understand that?”

“Lady, I’m Catholic and I can safely say if you’re trying to be a God, the staff of our true god will come down on you… and when it does… I can only pray that, “may she have mercy on your soul.” If you know every detail of me, then you know what my purpose is. To take down scumbags like you.”

“Who do you think you are, Liam Nesson?? Sit your wanna be tough as down, I won’t have you speak to me that way,” I held onto my desk nervously, “You’ll have to pay for your sin.”

“So will you,” I hung up on her before the chief and I gave each other the same look. The blood rushing across my body while the sweat poured out from my fingertips, leaving ring prints on the wooden finish of my desk.

The phone rang again.

“Detective Leann, we’ve got another body over by Riverdale Lake.”

Our cars couldn’t go fast enough to arrive at the Lake where a lifeless body of yet another Jane Doe greeted us face first eating up the muddled water. Bubbles surfacing from where her face was planted, adding to the already too eerie atmosphere, a handful of trees but two have flowers blooming from them. One completely covered in light pink roses.

When the small forensic crew turned her over, she held a darker pink rose in her hand while they recovered a note that was addressed to…

“Det. Leann.”

The laughing of a crow perched up on one of the branches of the tree engulfed in light pink flowers increased the amount of sweat pouring from my nervous fingertips of my jittering hands before I had put on the gloves to read the note from a distant admirer.

The note read:

“I gave you a warning but you refused to repent so as properly deserved, I’m going to go after someone you care about because somebody has to pay for your sins… unless you repent. Unless you pray for forgiveness… It's going to be a storm. You better pray for mercy, I might have some left. Let there be a second coming.”

I had to stop reading immediately. The forensic investigators identified the victim to be Abigail Hoffman, my fiancé's best friend, her face was beyond diluted somehow I’m surprised they were able to identify her. If I needed any more confirmation, her wallet was found a few feet away.

Drenched while riding the soft, cresting waves pushing it towards me, there laid her ID card being the first thing that I saw when I opened it up.

My blood started to run cold.

It didn’t take long before I frantically called my fiancé, “Babe, we’re going to put you in a protection agency and relocate you to a hotel for the temporary. I know you have questions but trust me on this one, it’s for your safety. I’ll be there later tonight. I can explain everything later but for right now, it’s just a precaution. Please…”

I was relieved to hear her agree without hesitance.

Who else would this person be targeting besides her??

My most treasured person in the entire universe, at least mine, suddenly to be taken away by someone who wants to pretend she’s the second coming of our god sitting above, what heartbreak does she want me to face??

For what? I honestly didn’t want to find out what she meant by “repent of my sins or face the consequences” since it would involve her.

She doesn’t need to be. It’s between me and her.

While piecing together a report of the case going so far, Charlie came rushing into the precinct, gaining the attention of the chief and I, with what seems to be the remnants of a paper book zipped up in a plastic evidence bag in hand. “Chief, detective, there’s another piece to the puzzle.”

“What are you talking about??” I asked in intensifying curiosity before he could speak further, “I’ve recovered the notes on this notebook. Has to be pretty telling stuff about our perp.”

“You were able to get notes off of that??” I exclaimed.

“Yes, we were able to take digital scans and retrieve the parts that were partially burned. Luckily, the important stuff lies in the middle. Detective, did you happen to solve a case pertaining to female mobster laundering money in Organized Crime a few months back?”

Shivers pulsated across my back while looking back on notes.

“I arrested a mobster under the name “Susan Stannate” a few months ago while being on loan for the Agency of Organized Crime but, how do we know it’s her for sure?”

“The unfortunate thing is the author doesn’t reveal their name nor is there any form of identification across the entire book so I’m afraid the luck was quick to dry,” I got locked in a short conversation prior to additional information being processed, “Wait, how is not… are we not able to trace the ink back?? Can we not get a match from that?”

“I’m afraid the inking trace has been taking several attempts so we don’t yet have a match and the ink has faded a bit which adds onto the challenge for us but we’ll get it… eventually.”

“Thank you,” Charlie went back to work while I shuffled around in the papers scattered across my desk, reflecting on my brief experience being a loaned detective for the other taskforce that worked to take down Susan, wondering what had happened to get to this point.

Perhaps I knew too much.

The jarring moment of the investigation was when she asked me to have some coffee with her, in my suspicions, I had pushed the coffee cup steaming with the scent of roasted coffee beans away from me. I didn’t take the chance for her to poison me.

My senses were on high alert.

My stomach was running light from a busy morning so I took advantage to purchase a sandwich to eat but little did I know this mobster, although rooted in her charm, she’s got a way of being three steps ahead as the realization sank in as did my awakened consciousness before falling down to the ground struggling to keep my eyes open, “I didn’t want to do this but, you made me.”

Before she stepped out of the restaurant, she whispered into my ear “...let this be a warning” prior to losing consciousness with a deep sigh of my breath while my sight blackened.

The last thing I saw was her leather boots walking out the door. The faint clinking of the bell heard before I couldn’t stay awake. It wasn’t until moments later I regained my consciousness in the hospital, automatically thinking about the worst case scenario.

“You’re going to be fine,” the Captain of the Agency of Organized Crime came by to reassure me, “it was a light poison but the doctors were able to take it out before any more time passed.”

That moment haunted me until I came back to being present in the view of my desk, the Chief concerned about my sudden gaze before I confessed about what happened in the case.

He told me to get some rest. It didn’t take a forensic to note how tired I was but I wanted to finish the case, “It’s an order. You can come back when you’ve had quality rest.”

That night, I got home. I felt like collapsing onto the couch, forgetting I had a bed for the moment, until the sound of my phone woke me up.

“Get down here,” Captain said.

In a sense of urgency, I grabbed my bottle of water rushing out the door back to my car.

Before I knew it, I was back at the station where the Captain held a videotape as soon as I flew past the doors leading into the office.

“You might want to see this… just came in an hour ago.”

My heart started to speed up.

The television screen went from black to the first frame recognizing the face that had popped up immediately, her partner, at first starting out as a slightly graphic make out session but escalated into a heated exchange. I had a slight hunch knowing how this is going to end but hoped it wouldn’t. Like spiders crawling on my back.

Seconds felt like minutes.

She pulled out a knife.

“You aren’t going to do this, you know?? You’re not going to take away what I’ve got left for that fucking detective! Not if I got anything to say about it!!”

It felt longer than five minutes watching them struggle against one another, fighting for the upper hand, the worst had come to surface. The informant loses his grip on the knife and inadvertently puts it back in her already blood soaked hands. He begs.

The camera can’t capture the demons in her eyes but they’re there while she holds it up. He’s tearing up for the mercy of a false idol.

He tried again. It was another three minutes.

The knife flew across the room while he kept trying to convince her of his affection for her but did little to settle down the flames in her demonic eyes. She screamed more at him holding onto one of her legs. The knife laid on the floor across.

“No more!!” She shouted before slashing him in the throat and shoulders. Blood gushed all over her before she tumbled.

Seconds later, she got up looking at the lifeless body of her lover.

She started to cry then laughed menacingly at the same time. Her hair covered most of her face. She picked up the knife to stab him once more. More blood jumping onto her.

Her dark gray shorts and sports bra turned red.

She turned to look at the camera, knowing I was going to watch it, she licked the knife. The screen went black.

Left in the wind, she walks free for now.

I know she'll seek out more victims before getting to me to finish the job and it won't be long before I find another body gutted by her hands while the pedals of a red rose scattered.

Right by Riverdale Lake.

The end?

Author's Note

I appreciate your time in reading this article. If you've enjoyed what you read, then please feel free to share this and leave a tip because any amount would be greatly appreciated. I'll be back with another piece very soon.

Warm Regards,

Guije