The Monster

warning:this story has physical violence, self harm and inappropriate words

The Monster

I can’t believe I came here again. Every night for a month, driven by my soul to return to this spot. Like a flame I cannot resist. Even though I know it is wrong.

**********

A young man peeks out of the blinds, drawn closed an hour ago. He knows where she is. He has watched her pull up every day and stare through her window. Some nights she has her phone light on, aimlessly flicking through her apps. Some nights she opens a book and turns on the light above her head. He knows she sits. He knows she watches. He knows she waits.

***********

I am ashamed to be back here. Like a monster, really, hoping to catch a glimpse of something. Something I am not sure of. Just a feeling. A premonition. This is where I am meant to be. And so, each night, I return to this spot. And just sit here and watch. And I know that he watches me back. And so we play a game of cat and mouse. Each waiting for the other to end first. Only, if I stop, something bad will happen. That I know.

***********

He fixes the spot of blinds he has moved. He shakes his head and smirks. That woman is relentless. Impossible. And honestly really starting to piss him off. What does she hope to accomplish here? Is she being paid by someone to stalk him? One night, she will leave. And when she does, he will too. Just like he used to do. Go back down to the dock. Look around for the smallest, feeble one. And attack. As he has done so many times before. In the nights, when the demons come out. And he comes alive.

**********

I feel him watching me again. He does that some nights. Looking out his window. Sometimes he even waves. When he does, I duck my head. I am embarrassed to be found. The darkness is never dark enough. I am drawn to this spot. Sadly. Every night. I sit and wait. I am not even sure why. No one understands. My husband has left me. He said the night consumes me. Darkness envelops me. 

He whispered, “I love you,” the night that he walked out. 

And I responded, “I can’t stop. Something calls to me. And I can’t stop.” 

He didn’t even turn around. Just slammed the door behind him. My back slid down the wall and my bottom hit the ground with a thud. I wept for hours alone. Then the darkness came. And I got up, wiped my tears, and headed for my car. When my faze lifted, I sat here in this spot, watching the man inside. Unable to stop the madness. Always here, always watching. His madness has become my madness. And I cannot stop until I complete my task.

**********

The Night Dock Killer Strikes Again

Late Saturday night another young woman was murdered on the docks. The killer left behind his signature stamp-he left a K engraved on the 22 year old’s cheek. The young woman was a visitor here on vacation. After speaking with her family, the young woman, whose name is being withheld due to family concerns, was walking by the docks late on Saturday after having dinner on Main Street earlier in the evening. Family, unaware of the serial killer in the area, thought nothing of letting the young girl wander alone. The family received a call from her number at 11:10. The sound they heard was unimaginable. A scream of terror, followed by a grunt. And then the noise of relentless beeping. The phone had been turned off. They immediately contacted the local police, who were at the docks within minutes. The young woman was pronounced dead at the scene. Still no word on any suspects, although a young man was seen in the area fifteen minutes before the body was discovered. His name and age have not been released, as he is a person of interest and not a suspect.

We will update this story when more information is discovered. Until then, everyone in the area of these killings should stay vigilant. Police are encouraging no females to be walking alone at night for any reason in this area.

*********

I re-read the news clip for the twentieth time. I was there that night, walking along the docks. I heard the piercing scream and saw the man walking away. And that is how I know he is the man. The man that I saw that night. The man who killed her. The young pretty blonde. I followed him to this house. Wishing he would turn around and notice me. I am not even sure why. I just wanted to be acknowledged…by him. 

I went to the police that night with his description, his address. I explained how I had been on the docks and seen him there. I retold the entire story. And nothing. They thanked me for coming in and said they would follow up with him. And I was told to go home.

And I waited for two weeks to hear of his arrest. To see his mug shot. And nothing ever came. No big article about the man who has been on a killing spree. In fact, there have been three more articles about the killings and how it has caused fear to grip our little cape town. 

I began calling the police station daily. Asking why he wasn’t arrested yet. Why was this taking so long? I had literally caught the killer and they let him walk away. They had so many excuses. So many lies. They swear his DNA did not match. Coverups, I just know it. He had to be the killer. Had to be.

So, now I sit here and wait for him to mess up again. And when he does, I will be there. Only this time, I am bringing my camera with me. I am going to get a confession on tape. I will make it impossible for him to be free.

********

  She stalks him. She follows him everywhere. He knows she is always watching. Ready to move the moment that he does. He hasn’t been out at night in weeks. Too afraid of what she might do to him. He has seen enough from her to know that she is capable of bad things. He is a monster, selling drugs to the most vulnerable people. He is not a killer. She is so much worse than he will ever be. And while some may die, he has never killed. He has waited long enough, he must return to the docks. He has to get paid soon. So he will go in the night, like always, and hope she does not follow. If she does, his confrontation may be more than she can handle.

*******

My body perks up the minute I see the door open. He emerges from his home, a black hoodie covering his head. I slowly open my car door, and slip out the side. I know that he sees me. He seems to not care that I am following him. Maybe, tonight, I am the prey. If so, I will not make it easy. I have brought along a weapon to help me. This confrontation may be more than he can handle.

*******

He makes his way to the docks before the moon has risen. It is always darkest at this time. No street lights in the area. Only the glow from the lighthouse in the water. He knows where to look for the buyers. They usually huddle under the long bridge, waiting for someone to come along with their next hit. Tonight he will be there. Restocked and ready to sell. Not to kill. Not a killer. No matter what she told the cops. That was not him. And she, of anyone, should know that.

********

“Stop,” I yell to him as I see him heading toward the bridge. “I know what you are planning to do. I have called the police.”

He turns around quickly, and I stop. Stumbling a bit, yet nervous to get too close to him. He is a murderer after all.

“What do you think I have done?” he asks. 

“You are the killer. The dock killer. I saw you that night. Leaving the docks. The only other person here.”

“I have not killed anyone. I think maybe you should turn around and leave. This dock is a very dangerous place. A killer is on the loose, you know?”

“The killer is YOU! You are a monster. A killer. I was on the dock that night. That poor woman. So young. So beautiful. You are a monster.”

“I was on the dock that night. I wasn’t alone though. Think back.”

“Yes, you were. It was you, me and the young girl. Only three of us were here.”

“You’re so close to seeing the truth. It was just the three of us on the dock. Me, the dead girl and the killer.”

“No, that’s not right. It was you, the dead girl and the killer. But I was here. I was here that night. I remember everything.”

“Then think back. Go back to that night. And remember. I was here. I did not kill her.”

I blinked back the tears. He was making no sense. If he didn’t kill her, then who did? It was just the three of us there that night. He was the killer. It had to be him. “Oh no! Oh no! What the hell did I do? This can’t be happening again. What the fuck did I do? It was you. It had to be you,” I scream, hysterical. “It was you! It was you! Oh my…it was me…it was me..” I crumble and fall to the shaky dock. “I killed her. I picked up the knife from a boat on the dock. I walked behind her. I grabbed her. I sliced her neck. Blood oozed everywhere. It was me. I did this. Again,” sobs retching from deep within. No wonder I couldn’t let this go this time. I had to remember. 

“What do you mean, again,” he asked, holding up his phone, obviously recording this confession.

“I’ve blacked out in the past. Always wake up on the dock, alone. Sometimes bloody. Feeling off. Never quite remembering. Four times now. It has happened four times. This was the first time I remembered. A mystery man. I thought it was you. I thought you were the monster.”

“It was always you. I may have a shitty job, but I am not a killer,” he said. He ends his video, lifts the phone in front of him and dials 911. 

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?” the voice on the phone says.

“I am on Wriley Docks and I have just had a confession from the night dock killer.”

“We are sending units there right now. Sir, are you safe?” 

“I think so. I think she may have something wrong with her. I don’t think she realized what she was doing. I do not believe she is a threat at the moment,” he responds.

I sat rocking back and forth on the edge of the dock. Unaware of the sirens in the distance. Watching in slow motion each time the monster in me was released. All this time chasing a man. The monster was here. The monster was me. I lift my purse from beside me. Draw out the small handgun that I had bought for safety. And slowly lift it to my temple. Time to kill the monster.