It has been weeks since the news broke in town about the missing 26- year old Ben Hoffmann. He was heading home from a local bar, but never got home, according to his girlfriend Macey Brook. Police don´t have much to go on and the case is getting colder by the day. Now it´s far too late for me to say something, without facing some serious consequences- who would ever believe me? So I have to carry on and keep my mouth shut until my last breath- I know exactly where Ben is since I´m the one who killed him.
Rewinding back to the night it all happened you have to understand something first- Ben wasn't who he claimed to be. He had approached me at the bar he never made it home from. There I was minding my own business, sitting in the booth in the far left- corner, out of sight from the entrance and avoiding eye contact with anyone who might wander to my table and offer me a drink. I was twirling the straw around in my margarita and gazing into the far distance. There wasn't much to look at; after all we were in the middle of nowhere and I was just here for the night. I powdered my nose, took a deep breath realising I need to stop sulking and head to the motel for the night before I attach the wrong kind of company. Seeing that the bar was heading towards closing, I didn´t see any cars in the parking lot besides mine. Sipping the last of my drink, I heard footsteps near me. A handsome, shy-looking guy approached me, tears in his eyes, changing the course of everything that happened next.
Before I glanced to look towards him, I let out a loud sigh, ready with my usual one-liner “Not interested in whatever you're offering” to preempt any cheesy lines. I'd barely opened my mouth when he spoke "I'm deeply sorry for disturbing you, I could tell you don't want to be bothered, but I'm desperate and you seem the only sober person around here.” This caught me off guard, and looking around the bar, only a few remained- an older guy with a beer-soaked, peanut-dusted beard dozing off, bartender nowhere in sight and some ladies in another corner texting someone´s ex and one of them is crying uncontrollably, probably the one with the ex.
He seemed harmless enough, but nevertheless I was on high alert. Curiosity, however, got the better of me.“What is it?” I asked him while mentally running through the possibilities of his approach, never breaking eye contact. “My girlfriend has been in the bathroom for a long time and I'm starting to get worried. She had quite a lot to drink and wasn´t feeling too well: it´s been around 15 minutes now. Could you please go and check on her, see if she's okay? Tell her Jason is worried about her.” His voice cracked in the end and his pleading eyes looked genuine.
He struck me as rather pathetic, to be honest. I was about to dismiss him, until my heart gave out thinking of his girlfriend.”Don´t worry, I´ll take care of her and get her back to you. “ I patted his shoulder reassuringly. Oblivious, I wandered off towards the bathroom and as I opened the door, I saw no one; both stalls were empty. Of course I planned to ask the girl first if there was a “Jason” with her:I wasn´t just gonna hand over a woman to a strange man, no matter how sad his eyes got. For a second, I thought that the girl must have just left and was probably fine, but the guy insisted she was still here. As I turned to deliver the bad news to him, the world stopped around me. Everything was quiet except for a loud crack, followed by a sharp pain in the back of my head.
When I woke up, I realised quickly I’m not at the bar anymore, nor had I made it to the motel. I looked down to find my wrists were tied together with a rope and my mouth was gagged with a cloth. It was quite dark, I tried to squint my eyes together to make out anything I see around me but there wasn't much more than wooden planks and a few sparse pieces of furniture. A bucket gave off a heavy odor, and a small mattress lay beneath me. It seemed to be some sort of cabin or shed. As memories from the night slowly returned, I realised in horror that it must be the same, seemingly harmless “Jason” I blindly trusted. I didn't know the full extent of the situation yet, so I have to be fully focused on escaping. And I would make sure he pays for this when (not if)I manage to get out.
Firstly I needed something to break the ropes. As I tried to stand and shuffle around the tiny room, I heard the creak of a door opening. “Good, you´re awake. I´m really sorry that it has to be like this, but you´re gonna be a special one, they´re gonna remember you and your story for decades,” he said with an evil grin on his face, holding a handsaw in his left hand. My insides twisted. “This is it,” I thought, “This is the end of me.” He must have seen the dread in my face, as he started laughing, dropped the saw and said “Don´t worry, we have plenty of time and we don't wanna rush anything. We should have some fun first, don't you think?” He locked the door and disappeared. I was both thankful and dreadful, wondering what would come next. Suddenly, it was as quiet as if no one had ever been there.
There were no windows in the room, so dark I didn´t even know its size; for all I knew, I could be in a basement. I needed to act quickly before my chances of survival dropped to zero. Since I saw no sharp objects laying around, I went to the mattress, hoping to find any holes in the fabric to find something useful, preferably sharp. As I ransacked the mattress, I suddenly heard footsteps. The door flew open and Jason stood at the entrance. He had his “nice guy” mask on, just like at the bar- acting like a gentleman, gaining your trust, until you turn your back and get whacked in the head.
"You have to know that I like you. When I saw you I almost let you go- if that's not saying something," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Since we're nearly halfway there, there's no letting go anymore and we should just see it through, okay sweetie? But I meant what I said earlier; you´re my personal favourite and I´ll make sure to put you as the centre of my handiwork. Also, you get the privilege to choose if you want to do this the easy or the hard way. If you beg enough, I might even make it quick for you so you won´t suffer as much." He winked and took a step closer, reaching out his right hand to caress my hair.
The next thing I knew, I kicked him in the groin. As he fell, so did a syringe he was holding in his other hand. Without a second thought, I stepped towards the syringe and grabbed it, but I struggled to hold it properly with my tied hands. As I tried to get a grip, I was swept off my feet, not in a romantic way. My head hit the floor for the second time tonight as I groaned, trying not to pass out from the pain and likely concussion. After I managed to stand up and take a step towards the exit, it suddenly felt like my hair was being ripped from my scalp. Jason's fingers were wrapped around my curls as he yanked me towards him. “You can only blame yourself. You could've chosen the easy way.” He knocked me to the floor and sat on top of me, choking me, squeezing my neck as I grew weaker from the lack of oxygen.
As life began to leave my eyes, I remembered the spring in my pocket- the one I´d managed to yank from the mattress earlier, hoping to free myself from the ropes. I´d hidden it just before he opened the door. Gathering the last ounce of my strength, I reached for my pocket with both hands and crammed the spring into his leg with brute force, using every inch of my energy I had left.
Jason screamed and jumped off me. I snatched the spring and lunged. stabbing him in the eye. He wailed and kicked, trying to get away- for reasons unknown, afterall, he was the one who brought me here. I ducked as he tried to sucker punch me. When I stood back up, I pressed the spring to his throat and slashed.
I should have been panicking, my heart racing about what I had just done, but a sense of calmness washed over me. The blood droplets landing on me are oddly comforting. It was when I realised it´s nearly over. He's no longer in control, and the smirk was gone from his face. “What a pussy,” I thought, pushing him to the floor.
Nearly tripping over Jason because the blood around the floor makes it rather slippery. Looking down on him, seeing him looking as pathetic as ever. I spat on him and headed to the door. I fetched the handsaw Jason had left earlier, and began sawing through the ropes binding my hands. It was as difficult as it sounds, luckily I have prior experience with stressful situations. The thought made me chuckle, as my hands finally came free. Jason was still quietly choking on his own blood as I went over him and smiled. “P–please…help.. m-me. We c-can work..this out, it was just a-a..mistake.”
My smile widened as I squatted over him, showing him the handsaw in my hand. "Don't worry, we have plenty of time and we don't wanna rush anything. We should have some fun first don't you think?” I quoted his own words back to him and winked as I began to work with the handsaw, humming along with Jason´s gurgling.
When I was sure Jason wouldn´t be screaming anytime soon, I decided to explore the other rooms. As I stepped out of the room, I realized looking out the lonely window in the kitchen that we were in the forest, probably in the middle of nowhere. This looked like an abandoned cabin. There was another room with a mattress, probably his. Glancing out of the window, I saw a small shed on the right. I stepped out of the cabin, inhaling the fresh air I had begun to miss already, and headed towards the shed.
Jason had a keychain in his pocket;I´d made sure to grab it and it sure came in handy as I eyed the padlock on the shed door. Using the smallest key from the chain, it opened with a soft click. I flipped the light and quickly realized I wanted to leave the place immediately. It looked almost like a memorial, or something to from a cult. Multiple walls were covered with photos of several women, mutilated and assaulted. I saw locks of hair on shelves and something in a small bowl in the center. I shuddered with the thought of what those poor women had to go through, a fate I had almost shared.
I decided to wait a couple more days, assuming Jason hadn´t told many people about his cabin hobbies. I ensured he wouldn't make too much noise, and at least this guy knows how to pick a decent location for the crime scene. Of course, I automatically called him Jason, the name he´d given me, but watching the news, I didn´t connect it at first until I stared at his portrait for a while. The missing person was named Ben Hoffmann, and the crying girl, pleading to the cameras, was his girlfriend. I felt sorry for her, though if she was the girlfriend Jason used as bait, then she's a key figure. She doesn't look the killing type, but after today- what do I know?
I´m gonna burn down the cabin with Jason/Ben in it, since I can't risk the fingerprints. As for the evidence, I make a mental note of everything, including the cabin's location. Luckily the shed provides some useful tools you could normally find in one, unlike a shrine. Grabbing one in each hand, I douse the walls with gasoline, erasing every trace of my presence- though the real goal is to erase Ben from this world forever, and to deliver justice for his victims. In the hallway near the door I recognise my purse with several valuable items. With one final sweep around the property, I decide it´s time for the honours. A match strikes to life between my fingers, the hiss sharp in the silence. I inhale deeply, then toss it into the gasoline-soaked cabin. The fire catches instantly, racing across the walls until the place is consumed, flames writhing like furious beasts.
Crossing to Ben's car on the far side from the shed, I know there is one more thing to do. The authorities must find the evidence he and I left behind—mine soon to vanish in the fire, his to condemn him. I fetch my burner phone from the bottom of the purse, punch in the numbers.
The line clicks. “911, what's your emergency?” a bored dispatcher drones. I let them know the cabin's location, warn about the quickly spreading fire and to make sure to check the shed near the cabin, tying everything to Ben. Tell them specific details of the findings in the shed, so there´s no mistaking this for a prank call. Before the dispatcher can respond, I hang up. A smile spreads across my face. It´s over.
Even if I had to get my own justice for what he put me through, I´ll ensure his previous victims aren´t forgotten. Their families need closure. Though he won't rot in prison, I made sure he suffered for all the horrible things he did to those 11 girls I saw in the photos.
Perhaps I should feel bad about what I did;even monsters like him have people mourning them. They deserve closure too, don't they? If I hadn´t found the shed, the world would have probably gone on without anyone knowing about Ben´s darkest secrets. Even though everything I did was in self defense, some of my own long-buried secrets might resurface. Therefore I can´t be a witness when the police begin to uncover the horrors of Ben Hoffmann.
Ben had gotten away with his horrors for a long time. He made one crucial mistake, though: never tie all your crimes to one place. After all, I've learned it's best to keep out the darkest secrets hidden from those who would reveal them- crime scenes and evidence should have separate locations.
I survived that man, and I refused to be one of his mementos. I crank up the radio, Spandau Ballet's True blasting through the speakers, and hum along the lines “I know this much is true!” I chuckle, stroking my own memento from Jason: the spring I used to kill him with. After all, I've learned that survival and pleasure can look an awful lot alike. “This will fit right in with the others,” I say to myself as I drive off, the spring reflecting the light from the approaching sunrise and flames flickering from the rearview mirror into the darkness of the night.
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