Somethings are Lost to The Wind

Brislington

1957,

The blood warmed his numb fingers. It was clear now. He had ended a life. A life that is now gone. James made his way through the thick snow shoving his crimson claws into the protection of his jacket.

The idea came to James that he should go to a place where he can think. His favorite place, The Coffee Shop. He padded across the busy street in the dead place of the small town James lived in. It was quiet and lifeless. Things like murder were easy to come by. Except for the lady at the counter, Rosy. Rosy bore curly hair with a deep red color. Of course rosy cheeks and lips. James took a particular liking to Rosy. James came to a stop and the thought hit him like a speeding train. There was no Rosy, well, at least not anymore.

James chuckled to himself and almost forgot what had happened. He brought himself to say something that Rosy kept telling James every time he had done something...wrong," You can't fix everything. Some things are lost to the wind." Like Rosy, like him.

James had nothing here now. Should he leave?

leave.

James heard the voice calm and clear in his head like a beam of hope in the darkest of hours. He always listens to the voice. The voice is always right.

James walked through the unforgiving winter night, carrying the hope to get to the train station. James couldn't seem to decipher anything through the black haze of darkness engulfing him on all sides. The snow just kept going on and on.

To cure the boredom James recalled moments from the past. Like the moment he had intensely disliked the most. Rosy's last hour, Rosy's last minute, Rosy's last second, and Rosy's last breath. The voice told him to do it. The voice is always right, but what he did felt wrong. A pure act of evil and terror.

Flashes of anger and loud screams flooded his head which brought the result of him putting his hands on his ears to dull any pain he could.

.............

"James what did you do?" Rosy's lip quivered as she spoke her trembling words with a heavy fear that settled its way into her stomach. She slowly stepped towards the back door of the petite Coffee shop.

James looked calmly back at her. " Well I know you say I can't always fix things, but what if I could?" James looked at Rosy with a hopeful face begging for Rosy's approval of what he had done. James' overbearing look forced Rosy to pan her gaze at what was sitting in one of the booths.

A decaying body that no longer was home to a soul.

Grey. Sam Grey. Rosy's love.

Grey's body was no longer identifiable, well at least it didn't look like Grey anymore. Patches of skin from all colors were stitched together, limbs were horribly placed in crooked positions, and the face was a gaping hole of horror. The eyes were the most unnerving. a set of eyeballs were dangling out of the sockets. The clothes on the body were worn intentionally to look as if it was something Grey would have worn. Chunks of black hair were stapled horribly into what might have been a scalp. Where these body parts were taken from was quite unknown. The overwhelming smell of death swarmed the tiny store suffocating Rosy.

"Oh, it's....wonderful James. I-I love it." The lie felt more painful to say than what she had heard in her head. It was one thing to keep a thought to one's self but another to say it aloud.

After a few agonizing seconds, James' face went from overjoy to a deep frown. Had he known Rosy was lying? Of course, he would, any soul could hear the hesitation in her trembling voice.

"It says, Rosy, that you do not wish to tell me the truth," James said plainly, unfazed by the whole ordeal of a dead body lying in the Coffee Shop's booths.

Rosy had now backed up closer to where the backdoor was as James sauntered his way closer, casually, step by step as if nothing seemed to be the matter and Grey's dead body was a harmless gift.

..........

James came to an abrupt stop in the snow. Voices. Loud voices. They were growing near. James squinted hard enough to see the beams of flashlights scanning the dark night for something James wasn't quite sure of yet.

.........

Rosy bolted for the backdoor. She was met with a chilling breeze full of snow. She whipped her head around and quickly realized James had jogged after her and was getting closer. Fear and adrenaline were pounding throughout her body.

Rosy lunged out the door and into the sea of dark snow seeing no end to it. She had no other choice.

"What is the truth? What do you wish to tell me, Rosy?" James called into the brutal night.

Rosy tripped over and over again on the thick snow, her flats not being accustomed to such conditions. She craned her head up, her face twisted in despair and hopelessness as it was apparent there was no place to hide in an endless field of snow. She turned back towards James. Maybe she could fix this.

............

James began to make his way towards the voices and the lights. He was thinking that perhaps they could direct him to the train station.

"Hello! I need your help!" James cried in desperation. He was tired of the cold and was tired of this awful night.

As the distance decreased between James and the voices and lights.

James could make out figures. Figures that were running at him with hostility.

............

Rosy huffed audibly as her puffs of air became visible in the faint beacon of moonlight. "You want me to tell you?" Rosy screamed across the distance between James and herself. "You've done something wrong, James! Wrong!"

James stopped and lowered his head in thought. Rosy possessed no desire to be aware of what James was thinking and if she had maybe things would have been different.

"Wrong?" James questioned still with his head down but his sorrow filled eyes lifted towards Rosy. Rosy nodded in a numb trance as strands of sympathy weaved itself back into the situation. Rosy stepped closer to James figuring he might not actually be posing a threat and was genuinely trying to please Rosy.

Then James cast a darker and fearful look on his face. "There's something I need to tell you."

.........

James was able to make out that the figures were racing straight towards him at an alarming speed. It was obvious their intent was him. What they wanted to do to him James could not find a reasonable answer.

"What should I do?" James cried.

Run!

Loud bangs erupted around him sending him into a frenzy of terror.

........

James sucked in a breath and walked over to an abandoned pile of bricks a couple feet away. He picked up one and said to Rosy with pools of sadness clearly lingering behind each word," It says it's rude not to accept a gift." James said almost plainly if it weren't for the intense emotion in his eyes. "It says I have to kill you."

With that Rosy turn and ran for what life she had a chance of having before she felt a sharp crack explode into her skull.

........

James dropped to his knees. He wrapped his hands over his chest where the iron smell of blood was drifting around his nose. James' gaze was clouded and unfocused but he could see one of the figures raise something to his head and James was swallowed by darkness.

.......

BCPD

1989

"You know they both made mistakes that night. I truly believe their deaths were their own faults." John argued snacking on a breakfast burger.

"What makes you say that?" Casy said with visible confusion.

"My father actually. He said James McWright was one of the most twisted serial killers out there and it was all this girl's fault."

Casy found herself tuning in to what John had to say about one of the old cases from the '50s. "Your father? I rarely hear anything from him anymore." Casy said nonchalantly as she picked up a case file.

"Well, I recently learned he was the one who killed James. A shot to the head and a shot to the heart." John looked down looking reluctant on what to say next. "My father told me that if I ever made a horrible mistake I might not be able to fix it but that I could still do what's right." John was looking away in thought and Casey had her gaze locked on John in sympathy. "You see he told me that James was a known schizophrenic and Rosy knew all about it and decided not to report him to an institution. He would often have horrible episodes and the girl didn't seem to care. That's her mistake. I believe James' mistake is obviously getting jealous of Sam Grey because he had a closer relationship with Rosey and well...he didn't. So of course as you know James makes his regrettable mistake of killing Grey out of jealousy. Ignorance and jealousy. Their mistakes and not doing the right thing afterward caused their deaths if you see what I mean."

Casey turned and smiled at John."Well, I'll certainly take that message into hand the next time I make a mistake. Always do the right thing."