The Masked Murderer

Captive

Saturday morning, I drove down to Brookville Park for my usual morning jog. When I pulled up to the parking lot, I sat in my car and looked around until I felt safe. I spotted several other joggers and hikers, which made me feel a bit safer, knowing that I wasn't all alone in the huge park.

I jogged at Brookville Park everyday, but I hadn't been back since my ordeal. I figured it was time for me to get back on track even if the masked murderer was out on the hunt again. I grew tired of living my life in fear, so I decided the best option for me was to face my fears head on. That included living my life and continue doing the things that I loved. I refused to give into the fears of a deranged, sick, twisted man. I was adamant on living my life to the fullest.

I had my gun with me, it also helped in minimizing my fears because it offered me all the comfort and protection I needed. I looked down at my gun, "I'm depending on you," I said to it as I placed it in my fanny pack.

I stepped out of my car and I looked up at the scenery of the park. The beauty of the park was refreshing. The trees stood tall as the bright sun rays peeked through the green leaves and bushes, setting a ravishing view for my morning jog.

I walked fast at first, then I slowly worked my way up to a jog. My breathing became labored, sweat jumped out of my pores.I was so glad I decided to return to jogging, it felt so exhilarating.

When I was done jogging, I drove back home to surprise Charles. It was our anniversary week and I wanted to take him out for a nice lunch at one of his favorite seafood restaurants. As I pulled up to our parking spot, I saw an unfamiliar truck parked right outside of our apartment. It was a blue Ford truck. I walked in thru the front door of our apartment to the sound of lots of water running in the bathroom. It sounded like a water rush coming up a river bank.

"Charles?" I called, "Are you home?"

Maybe he didn't hear me cause the running bath water was too loud. I knocked on the bathroom door, "Charles?" I called.

No answer.

I decided to just open the door. I stepped inside the bathroom. I looked down and saw a horrific scene.

Charles was sitting on the side of the bathtub harshly scrubbing tons of blood off of his hands, arms, and face.

"Charles, what happened?!" I asked as I gasped at all the blood.

Charles looked at me in astonishment, "What are you doing home?! I thought you'd be at your parents?"

"It's our anniversary week, I wanted to surprise you with a nice lunch," I said while staring at all the blood in amazement.

"Charles, you didn't answer me, what happened?!"

Charles put his head down and focused on scrubbing his arms.

"Oh, some crazed b***h stabbed me, but I'll be okay," he said. I was stunned at Charles's speech. I had never heard him talk like that before. He had never used the word b***h, not around me anyways.

"How did it happen?! Where?! Why?!" I hastily asked in curiosity.

He shook his head.

"I'm not even sure what happened. A strange woman just walked up to me out of nowhere and stabbed me," Charles said as he continously scrubbed his arms and wrists.

"We have to call the police!" I demanded.

His eyes grew big and he looked up at me.

"No, we don't need the police. I'll be okay."

"But what if she does this to someone else? We can't let a deranged woman go around stabbing people," I told him.

Charles stood up and yelled in my face "I said it's fine! We're not calling the police!"

I stepped back, astonished at Charles's tone of voice and his demeanor. I thought maybe he was still in shock after being stabbed and he wasn't thinking clearly, so I left the bathroom so he could continue to clean himself and clear his head.

I walked into our bedroom. I saw a black suit laying on our gray carpeted floor.

Hmmm... Charles doesn't wear suits.

I picked it up. It was soaked in blood.

Oh My God!

The smell, it was reminiscent of the kidnapping and murders, it smelled just like the masked murderer.

"Charles!" I yelled. I ran back to the bathroom where Charles was,"We have to leave! We have to get out of here. He's found me!!" I said. I then ran to the living room fumbling in my purse for my keys.

Charles then walked into the living room too, "Olivia, wait a minute, what do you mean?"

A light bulb then went off in my head. The truck that was parked right outside of our apartment was the same truck that chased me off the road on highway nineteen.

"No!" I screamed, "This can't be happening,"

"Olivia, calm down," Charles said while he grabbed my shoulder.

Charles's brother, Nathan suddenly walked into our apartment.

"Did you fix the damage you did to my truck?" Nathan asked Charles, "It sure looks like you rammed somebody pretty good,"

I ran outside to take a look at the truck. It had scrapes of black paint on the front bumper. My car was black. That was indeed the same truck. Charles then came outside to check on me and Nathan followed behind.

Nathan was the masked murderer!

"Nathan, was that you who tried to run me off the road?!" I yelled, "Are you the masked murderer?!" I screamed. I unzipped my fanny pack and took out my gun. I pointed it at Nathan.

"Oh, no. Wait a minute, Olivia. I have no idea what you're talking about," Nathan said as he held both of his hands up in the air, motioning for me to stop," Charles had my truck for the past two weeks. You might want to talk to him,"

I looked at Charles.

"Olivia, put the gun down. Nathan is not the masked murderer," Charles said as he delicately touched my arm with his hand, caressing it and slowly working his way down to my gun removing it from the grip of my hand.

"Nathan, I'll talk to you later. I'm gonna take her inside. She's been through a lot lately," Charles told Nathan.

Nathan put his hands up, "Hey man, whatever. I just want my truck fixed"

"I'm gonna fix your goddam truck. Now I'll see you later," Charles angrily said. Nathan then walked away, got into his Mustang and drove off.

Charles held my hand and walked me inside.

"Nathan is the masked murderer! That's the same truck that ran me off the road!" I yelled. Then I began crying. Tears slowly fell down my face.

"Olivia, Nathan is not the masked murderer! Stop it! Stop it, now!" Charles yelled. Then he suddenly grabbed his head with both his hands, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his facial expression turned angry.

"Uhhh!" Charles yelled, "I could kill you, Olivia! I swear, I could kill you right now!"

I gasped, "Charles, what are you saying?!" I cried harder. I've never seen Charles talk or act like that, ever. I was flabbergasted.

Charles pulled out a big black bag from behind the couch and took out a long, thick, brown rope. He pushed me to the ground as he held my hands tightly together in back of me, just like the police do when they're arresting someone. He took the rope and tied my hands up.

"Charles, what are you doing?" I cried

He then proceeded to tape my mouth up with duct tape. I couldn't speak or move.

"Olivia, I can't take it anymore. Your crying, your fears. I really tried Olivia, I did. I never wanted to kill you, but now you've left me with no choice," Charles said while picking me up and flipping me over his back.

I tried to scream, but I wasn't able to due to the duct tape covering my mouth. I kept trying to move my tied hands, by shaking them, but that was useless. I was stuck. Charles threw me into the back of the same Ford truck that tried to run me off the road. He threw me in so hard, I banged my head against the side of it and I was knocked out unconscious.

I woke up and looked around, but I couldn't see anything. Wherever I was, was pitch black. I rubbed my eyes and shook my head.

Where am I at and what's going on?