Jack the Stripper

The Victims

Jack's retelling of a memory of the two from the photograph:

The dirt road to the cabin is bumpy and dark, the various potholes lining the way assaulting the cars' under frame as the passengers are jostled about in their seats. Skeletal trees loom overhead as blooming oaks line the drive. I've taken this road many times with numerous other "guests" so I know exactly where to veer to get the best effect with the potholes. Some tend to get nervous while others take it as a joyride. Either way, the effect is the same and the body gets flooded with adrenaline in preparation for a fight or flight scenario.

"Thank you again for letting us stay the night. It's very kind of you, and cheaper than a hotel. It's like a bed and breakfast type of deal. We'll even pay you for the trouble." The female, Hadley, speaks up from the back seat, her voice silky smooth and full of sincerity as she breaks my silent reverie. I catch a glimpse of a wide, white toothed smile in the rearview mirror before she continues on, speaking through the smile and a light hearted chuckle. "You're a life saver. Thank God you came along when you did! Otherwise, we'd be on the side of the road all night with how few cars were driving about. The car is practically brand new, so I don't know what happened...not really sure Blayne does, either. He's not a mechanic, anyway." Her slim shoulders shrug slightly before she settles back into the seat, her face slightly shrouded in shadows. She talks too much.

Hadley's hair is a chestnut brown, the waves rolling smoothly down her back. A black tank top adorns her chest while baggy gray sweatpants hang from her hips. Makeup is nowhere in sight as her chocolate brown eyes, big and round in her face, blink methodically. She doesn't look strong; rather, she looks fit, but wiry, as if she's never lifted more than a few pounds in her life and only has a lithe body for show-and-tell.

Her partner, Blayne, has dark brown hair that's closely cropped in a military-grade cut, his seemingly black eyes cautiously roaming the outside world as the car continues to creep onward. He seems military, and looks military, so he's probably taking note of the route and surroundings. Won't do him any good, but he can think it will. Faded blue jeans cover his legs as a dark green jacket, almost stretched to its limits, crosses his upper frame. He looks tough, strong.

He's definitely going to be a problem later on. He'll have to be first, but that's not an issue. A blessing more than anything, actually. The females are always more fun when the men are no more, and the men are more fun to torture and antagonize once the females are gone. It's a fun little game. 

They're definitely city goers, so my get up is different. I have unruly black hair, the kind that is unkempt no matter what and constantly looks like bedhead, matched with bright hazel eyes. Most say the brightness of the color makes me look nicer than I really am. I can agree with that as they draw in many people when I get noticed. Faded and dirty blue jeans line my legs, worn-in boots holding them in place at my feet, while a lightly stained white T-shirt covers my upper body. An old leather jacket is slung over the seat beside me while I sport a three-day old stubble on my jawline. I have an outdoorsman's look going on, to fit the route I take people.

"So where you guys from?" My voice is husky, ragged. I glance in the mirror and make eye contact with the female, then flick my gaze sideways to the male. She smiles from the backseat. He glances at me, his gaze wary and uncertain.

"I'm from California. Kind of wanted to travel a little bit and see the scenes in the states, but that didn't turn out so well, considering the car broke down not even two days into our trip." A sigh escapes her mouth as she crosses her arms and leans forward, jutting her chin in Blayne's direction. "He's from Tennessee. He doesn't talk much and always looks grumpy. Don't mind him."

I nod. A light rain starts to fall, the drops pattering noisily on the windshield. My hands tighten on the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white as I pretend to concentrate, though the sound calms me more than I already am.

The rain is no hindrance to me. It will actually do the opposite; it will aide me. Easier to clean up and dispose of things when the rain dissolves and distorts most telltale evidence. I'll take the male out first. The 'when' of the question is never easy to answer, though. I enjoy toying with my guests a little, making it worthwhile. I can easily do that with the female, but the same one becomes a bore rather quickly. They become predictable, and you can only damage a prize so much before it becomes junk and useless.

My thoughts escape me as we continue to rattle along the road, the cabin slowly looming into view before the cab. The cabin is of typical build: old style log placements creating a horizontal wooden view of the walls. A cedar porch comes off the front, a homely rocking chair gently rocking in the wind a few feet from the front door. Trees of all sizes surround the property for miles; the only outlook is the long, winding driveway we're entering the property from. Flower patches line the sides of the porch, giving it a more cheerful glow. I own a horse by the name of Thunder, a well-groomed black stallion that sits in his field to the right of the cabin, whinnying any and every chance he gets. The presence of a well-cared for animal helps ease the minds of everyone that comes. That's the only reason I have him. Otherwise, despite the nice scenery and quiet seclusion, people would get antsy and nervous.

"And here it is." I pull the car up to the front steps, slapping it into park before pocketing the key and hopping out into the mud. Both of the others follow suit and clamber out, their hands quickly retrieving their baggage before they follow me inside the cabin. Inside is warm and dry, away from the biting cold of the wind and rain that has picked up within minutes. We walk down the hallway a few feet until we hit a door. "To the right is the guest bedroom, where you both are welcome to stay. The bathroom is just down the hall and to the left. Please, make yourselves comfortable while I brew some coffee. We'll need it so it's not such an awkward stay, and so the chill of this gloom can be chased away." I flash a smile before turning and disappearing down the hall.

I hear them setting their stuff down and settling in as I round the corner and stop, my ear quickly picking up on their voices as they whisper to each other.

"Well, yeah, it's a nice gesture, but we don't know him, Hadley. I don't have a good feeling about this place. My gut is never wrong."

"Oh, stop your worrying, Blayne. You're always worrying, and you never have a good feeling about anything since you returned. Just relax and be glad that we're not stuck in a broken down vehicle on the side of the road in the rain, or stuck in some rundown motel that costs an arm and a leg just so we can get roach bites and our stuff stolen. Please? For once?" A pause. "For me? I mean, he has a horse. That's neat, right? You need time, patience, and good skills to keep a horse looking that nice."

A sigh.

"Fine. I'll be glad about our good fortune, but I'm not relaxing. I'm serious, Hadley. Something about this guy doesn't add up. You always think the best of people. For once, just try and think with your head instead of your heart. It's odd, babe. Our car was just serviced, we go to eat, then all of a sudden it breaks down miles out of town and he's the only one to miraculously show up? Really? It just sounds sketchy is all."

I walk to the kitchen and quickly press the 'ON' button on the coffee pot before returning to the hallway. Their voices have stopped. The only sound is of them rustling about in their bags. Cursing myself silently, I hurry down the hall towards the front door, rushing past their closed door, my feet moving expertly, silently. I click one lock into place, throw the chain and deadbolt, and leave one lock unlocked. The idiots always think they can get out through the front door by silently throwing the locks. It never works. I installed the trick lock myself, so those who are observant will see an unlocked lock when it's really locked, or a locked lock when it's really unlocked. I barely tamp down my giddy burst of excitement. It's been awhile since I've had fun, especially with a couple.

The coffee pot beeps in the kitchen, the typical announcement for me to gather them up in the living room by the fire place while I serve them their drink. My body is clunky as I saunter the little ways to the guest door, signalling my carefree arrival.

"Do you guys like your coffee black or with sugar and creamer?" My voice echoes in the hall as I stop in front of their door, gently opening it with a knock. Their bags are still packed and stacked neatly by the foot of the bed, their shoes placed in a tidy line under the lip of the frame. Hadley and Blayne sit cross-legged on the floor, their hands entwined as they whisper together in homely pajamas. That's why I no longer heard them. I clear my throat to make sure I was heard, or to announce my presence if they didn't hear me. I'd much rather prefer to not be heard later, but right now I need their attention.

"Um...with a little bit of milk and sugar. Thanks." Hadley's voice is still bubbly as she turns to face me. Her bubbly attitude fits the pajamas she wears. A fitted pink tank top conforms to her torso as Hello Kitty fuzzy pants line her legs. A white wife-beater and gray sweats are all Blayne has on.

"Black." Blayne's voice is bored, cautious. I nod and back out of the room, turning my back to them quickly before they can see my smile. Oh, yes. This group will be great fun. More fun than others.

*Sorry for the late update! I know it was only by a day or so, but I feel bad, even though this story has so few followers so far. Drop a comment with your thoughts; I encourage it! Any feedback helps to make this a better, more enjoyable story for any future readers :) Enjoy!