Maywood Anon

Swap our places - Carolina + Dark Figure

Carolina didn’t hear the car practically skid into the lot, or park right outside the unit, she didn’t hear much of anything, didn’t respond to anything until she was touched. A hand on her neck broke her unconsciousness, and she blinked her eyes open just as the figure had turned from her, going to a bucket that smelled of detergent, and disinfectant. She said nothing, and she didn’t dare move…but she watched him…frantically scrubbing down the unit. Something must have gone wrong, something must have been seen. Why was he rushed? Why was he practically wearing a haz-mat suit? This was it, when he was finished, she was dead. No. No way in hell. She watched, and she waited, even looking out the half open door and memorizing the color, make, and model of the car. Thanks for teaching me about cars, Dad.

Still she watched, and waited, as he walked around her, scrubbing everything down. Carolina never actually thought he would try to scrub her down, but lo and behold, she felt the same sponge on her skin. Sickened, she also found that she had some fight left in her. Grabbing the figure’s right leg, she yanked it out from underneath him, sitting up as he fell to the wet cement floor, and the bucket of water went flying with a loud banging crash. He wouldn’t be cleaning anymore, and she had time to start screaming bloody murder, wondering if it would do any good.

He came down with a thud, smacking his head against the concrete. It wasn't a hard enough force to cause bleeding but the fall had momentarily stunned him. Twisting his leg from her grasp, he kicked her in the face. "Bitch." He muttered under his breath as he got back to his feet. It wasn't an easy task, as the plastic covering his shoes kept slipping against the spilled water, but he managed to stand up. Taking a step back, he needed to keep his distance from her as he thought about his next move. He knew that he didn't have much time but he needed to take a moment to recuperate, the back of his head was pounding. He had been warned that she was difficult but he hadn't anticipated to this extent. It was understood now why she had to be dealt with.

A minute had gone by before he was ready to move on. His ears were ringing from her screaming, or perhaps his fall he wasn't sure. But he knew that no one was around to her hear screams and if they were, it wouldn't matter because she would be dead before they got to her. He wasn't convinced that she could overpower him, but she had proved fast before so he was careful when he approached her. He grabbed her free arm and pinned it back behind her and took the chain that had kept her her from leaving the unit and wrapped it around her neck. He pulled back tightly, yanking it harder and harder until he couldn't hear any sounds coming from her anymore. The silence relieved the aching in his ears but he still felt woozy from hitting the ground.

He fell back, breathing heavy as he sat behind her. A moment later he was staggering to his feet and gathering the bucket and sponge from the floor. He looked back at her seemingly lifeless body, still chained down to the ground and then turned away. His legs moved forward as he left the storage unit. Not bothering to close the door, he threw the bucket and sponge back into the trunk of his car and retrieved a jug of gasoline. Time had been lost due to the fall so he rushed his way around the facility, dumping gasoline across the pavement. When he found his way back to his car he threw the jug under a blanket in the backseat and hopped into the car. On his way out, he climbed out of the car and lit a match. Leaning down, he let the flame ignite the gasoline before jumping back into his car and driving away from the scene.

Swap our places - Carolina + Dark Figure

The job had to be dealt with quickly if he wanted to escape getting caught. Or worse, killed. Evidence needed to be cleaned away. Then Carolina needed to be dealt with. Those were his only options. He spun into the parking lot and kept going, driving down until he parked outside of the unit Carolina had been placed into. He jumped out of the car and ran to the trunk. Inside was a bucket with a lid covering it. Heavy, he struggled to pull it out and set it on the ground. Still standing outside of the unit, he reached into the trunk and pulled out a plastic suit as well as gloves and a plastic shower cap. He slipped the clothes on and then dragged the bucket to the door before unlocking it. Once he had the lock open, he pulled the door handle and revealed himself to Carolina.

His face was covered by a mask. Different from the one Carolina was used to seeing, it was blue and ill fitting but still covered his face. He checked on Carolina, touching her neck and checking her pulse to see if she was still alive. The storage unit smelled awful. He covered his mouth briefly, not used to such a smell. The figure pulled away without saying a word and went back to the bucket he had brought inside. He pulled open the lid, inside the bucket was soapy water and a sponge. He took out the sponge and began to quickly, but thoroughly, scrub down the unit. No evidence of the killer should be left behind. He soon got to Carolina and started to wipe her down as well. She couldn't be left alive but he also couldn't let her reveal anything about the killer.

#closed para #carolina #Damien

Running Up That Hill - CLOSED

Sloppy. The word swirled in his mind as he sped away from Damien's neighborhood. He knew that it wouldn't be long before the police were on his tail. If Damien had seen his license plate number then they would be looking for it and could trace it back to the storage unit he had left Carolina in. That couldn't happen. He wouldn't let it. Not before evidence that may have been left behind was wiped away. His fingers squeezed the steering wheel has he continued to move the car forward, his speed had slowed down some as to not attract attention but he was quickly heading towards a back road. He was doubtful that the hidden roads were elusive to the police but it would buy him time as he sought out another car. The one he was driving needed to be ditched before he could even think about getting to the storage.

He drove for a few miles before he came to an old farmhouse. Quietly, he turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. The place wasn't new to him, he had been there several times before. He stood by the side of his car and reached for his cellphone. With his thumb, he searched through his contacts before he came across the right number. Upon hearing a voice on the other end, the figure spoke. "Dead." There was a click on the other line and the killer put the phone back into his pocket before stepping away from his car. Within moments he had found his way into the barn, knowing that there was a car inside, and he was climbing into the driver's side. With the car problem resolved, at least for the time being, it was time to take care of Carolina.

Odd Man Out - The Killer + Damien

damien-g-waren

Days faded into nights which lightened into new days. The sound of silence echoed through Damien’s house for several long hours before being replaced by the cheerful chirp of birds to the state the arrival of a new day. These were simple changed in atmosphere that one wouldn’t regularly notice, in fact, most didn’t. They would go to bed when the sun set and wake up when the sun shone in through windows whose curtains had been left open from the day before. It was a methodical pattern that went unnoticed by the human eye and mind.

At least, usually it did. For Damien, however, each shift in atmosphere was something new for him, housing both the promise of finding out something new about Carolina’s location but also the dread of finding her dead. Waking up was a gamble, so Damien’s mind had reprogrammed itself so that he would only sleep sparingly and when it was of necessity. While he had mixed feelings about this, he didn’t resort to sleeping pills or anything of the like, all of the possibilities of the case leaving him up at night. He was a tormented man who disguised his anguish with his knack for remaining silent.

Though the notes that he had been receiving didn’t effect him as much as they probably should, the doll being particularly disturbing in comparison to the pieces of paper, he couldn’t pinpoint the purpose of leaving, what he assumed to be, Carolina’s writing everywhere. If it was a method that the killer was using to worm his way into Damien’s head, it wasn’t working. It was the fact that the killer was able to easily get into places where he shouldn’t be that bother Damien, especially when it came to his car. Luckily for Damien, the gas station recognized the insomniacs who had a lot on their mind, the store staying open twenty-four hours.

It was about 3:45 in the morning when he was about to pull up out side of his house, having had yet another failed attempt at trying coffee from the gas station; there was just something about the taste that he couldn’t quite stomach. Everything in the neighborhood seemed to be normal until Damien noticed a strange car parked across from his house, causing him to slow his bike down, effectively lowering the engine so that he could figure out what the purpose of the car was.

#para:carolina #short para because this is just to move it along for the final para #carolina

The figure stopped in his tracks. He had taken risks before but he wasn't certain that he wanted to make another. At least in this case. It almost didn't seem worth it. He could come back, leave the note for Damien another time. There was no way of knowing how much time he had left. He had wanted to leave the last note on the front door. The camera was meant to catch a glimpse of him, no matter how dark the image would have been, and he wanted to taunt Damien by being so close to his home again. He was convinced the police couldn't catch him. Damien was meant to know this, to know that he wasn't afraid of the police or the cameras. He was in control. It wasn't turning out that way though, not now, not without knowing where exactly Damien was.

In the distance he heard the sound of a dirt bike. As quickly as the noise emerged, it softened. Could it have been Damien? He squeezed his hands tightly into a fist and sighed. He needed to get out of there before someone saw him. Tracing his previous steps, he made his way back to his car. As he approached the back of it he realized that Damien wasn't very far from where he stood, though he wasn't sure if he could see him. There was little hesitation as he charged for the driver's side door and jumped into his car, unknowingly knocking the last note and the remainder of the entire letter out onto the street as he slammed the door shut. Within seconds the keys were in the ignition. The tires screeched as the hooded man pulled out of his parking spot and came hurtling towards Damien, narrowly missing him as he sped away.

#para:damien #Damien

Odd Man Out - The Killer + Damien

He had been watching the house from a distance. Although, not quite as often as he would have liked. Despite their best efforts to remain discrete, the police weren't exactly invisible. He had seen them circling the neighborhood, setting up cameras outside of Damien's house, and even overstaying their welcome in nearby houses. Everyone was a suspect. Except him, of course. No one ever suspected him. Slipping into the shadows had always been easy for him. The kind of person that went unnoticed. He didn't stand out. A forgettable face.

The police had scattered over the course of a couple of days. He wondered if they sensed they were being watched. It was doubtful, however, as they didn't seem to be the smarted bunch. Still, he took their absence as an opportunity to give Damien one final note. It was the last one that Carolina had written to him. Though the page hadn't remained blank underneath, he felt that the bullet notes would get to Damien more. Not to mention, they were easier to give out in pieces. Easier to taunt the poor man with. At least that was his intention.

His car was parked outside of the camera's view as he stepped out of it. He couldn't be certain where all of the cameras were but he made his best effort not to be seen by them. It wouldn't have mattered, though, it was early morning so most were still asleep and if the camera did happen to catch his appearance they would have just been met with the image they already knew of him. A hooded man, face covered with a mask and gloves slipped over his hands. He nearly blended into the early morning light. Disappearing was what he did best.

As he approached Damien's house, through the side of a far off neighboring house, he came across something rather surprising to him. Damien's dirt bike wasn't there. It quickly lead him to believe that Damien also wasn't there. If he wasn't home, then where was he? It was disconcerting to the masked man.

#para:damien #Damien

Slide - Carolina + The Killer

After the previous encounter with Carolina, the masked man had no intention of spending time with her. His movements were quick as he headed towards the storage unit. He carried a small paper bag in one hand while the other swung at his hip for speed. Unlike before, he didn't make much noise as he approached the unit. Instead, he slid the door open as fast as he could and climbed under it. "Good morning, or is it evening?" He began with a shrug, "You wouldn't know, would you?" He preferred making trips to the lot while the sky was dim. It made it more difficult for Carolina to figure out what time of day it was. Not to mention, it meant people were likely not visiting the lot.

He set the brown bag down at the entrance as he slid the door nearly all the way down, leaving just a small crack for light. Without hesitation, he rushed towards Carolina reached for the notebook and scooped it up. "This isn't a social visit, Carolina." He quipped as he placed the notebook under his armpit. Although he was interested in what ever she may have written, he was going to read it somewhere else. He had had enough of Carolina in their previous visit. "But, that doesn't mean I didn't bring gifts." The heel of his shoe skidded along the pavement as he spun around for the paper bag. Careful not to drop the notebook, he leaned over and picked up the folded bag.

"Here," He began, as he stuck his hand into the bag. The hooded figure pulled out a half a loaf of bread wrapped in foil and tossed it towards Carolina, "Eat up." Killing her was an option, and he had deeply considered it, but for now he was going to keep her alive. That is, if she even bothered to eat at all. It was her decision and he didn't care either way." He reached in and grabbed a water bottle as well as an apple and dropped it down for Carolina. It wasn't much but it was enough to keep her going, he figured. "I'll be back soon. It depends on what I find in this journal. Your friends better start watching their backs, because I might not like what I read." And with that, he was gone.

Qu'est-ce que c'est? | Carolina + The Killer

Her captor’s amusement was almost tangible, and Carolina somehow knew that if it didn’t come when she said the word “Alive”, it would happen eventually. He also had a sort of sick, and twisted point…which she hated. What she would deem as a courageous act to save those she loved and cared about, by taking things into her own hands and giving the figure nothing…could be misconstrued in many ways. And he would make sure of it. He could make it look as if she’d killed herself because she couldn’t take the pressure, or the torture, or knew that her body was on the brink of death anyway, so she ended her own suffering. Most of Maywood Hills would believe that, and only one person wouldn’t. Because he knew her, knew her past, knew she was a fighter, and was way too stubborn to just give up like that. He’d lose himself in trying to find the truth, and she couldn’t let that happen. “I know I don’t. No one does.” She replied to his statement. Watching him lay down the hunting knife, and snatch it back up again.

She almost reached for it…wished that he’d left it, but not to kill herself. To stab this figure in the black mask, hell bent on breaking her down, even the arm, or the leg would suffice. At least then, if she were found alive, she could tell the authorities that her captor now had a distinguishing mark, something they could look for. No. Instead, she was going to do something different, something she’d trained herself to do…memorize everything. The mask, his clothes, the trunk…then she looked at his hands. Not smart, not smart at all. She could write down a few things, then tuck them away in her pocket, since he never seemed to remember to check them. And now that her phone was gone, had the false sense that he didn’t need to. Sure, he could ditch everything she was looking at right now, burn the mask, the clothes, and the trunk. But there was one thing he couldn’t get rid of, most likely didn’t even think about. And she’d keep that one thing to herself.

She listened in silence to everything he said, taking in every change of tone, and inflection. Without even knowing it, his voice said ‘desperate’. He needed her, because if he had been following her for any length of time, and he knew about her journals, he also knew how meticulous she was with details. He needed her alive for as long as it took for him to break her down enough to give him the information he wanted on the others. So his threat of killing her anytime he wanted, was idle. Saying she meant nothing to him, was a lie. She was his encyclopedia of town secrets, and he wouldn’t be throwing her away any time soon.

She picked up the notebook when he kicked it over to her, her heart nearly stopping when he threatened Sophia. He needed Carolina for a reason, but he’d already had Sophia once, and released her. Which meant she was expendable. “Not my sister…” Carolina said shakily. “Please don’t hurt her. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you…I swear.”

She watched as the figure lifted his mask, revealing a revolting grin that reminded her of Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight. She memorized that too, sure she could draw it later. “You’re right, I don’t have you figured out.” She lied. “Nobody has to die. Does that include me?”

"Good." They were, at least for the moment, on the same page. Although he wasn't threatened by her behavior, he couldn't help but roll his eyes at how difficult she had been. He could tell by the expression in her eyes that her brain was clicking away. Gathering "evidence" perhaps? Concern wasn't exactly pulsating through his body. If he genuinely felt as though she had anything on him then he would kill her. For all he knew, however, she could have only been looking for an escape. He wasn't worried about that either. His locations were always picked carefully. If he could escape capture in an open theater then he could keep her hidden in a nearly abandoned storage lot. It didn't matter what was going through her mind because he wasn't worried about it.

He scoffed as she pleaded to know what he wanted. It wasn't as though he had been vague. "I've told you already. I won't tell you again." He wanted useful information on those she knew best. He had a rather good idea of what Sophia's demons were but he wanted to know more. "Yes, including you." A few more minutes were spent inside the storage unit as he finished gathering his belongings, leaving Carolina with only the pen and notebook. "I have somewhere else to be." He had plans to take the letters she had written and mail them out, as well as check up on Sophia. He wanted to know where she was at all times in case Carolina didn't respond well to his threats. Although the man had arrived loudly, he made an effort to leave Carolina quietly.

Qu'est-ce que c'est? | Carolina + The Killer

Carolina scowled at that short comment. “Right, you’re not a monster at all, you’re freaking Santa Claus!” Carolina snapped at him. “If you weren’t a monster, I wouldn’t be shackled to a wall, in a storage unit, in the middle of NOWHERE! Bring on the pretty Christmas lights!” She knew that yelling at him would most likely resort in a punishment of some kind, but she didn’t care. This man had an exhausted Carolina pissed off! She slapped his hand away when he touched her hair, disgusted at the thought of his hands on her in any way. “Don’t die on you…” Again, her stomach churned in disgust. “I could end my life the moment you leave, then you’d still have nothing.” It was true, and she saw several ways she could do it, but if there was even a tiny chance that she could get out of this alive, that was just a thought that would force her captor to think it over. ”Yeah, you have me, but for how long? What if I take that decision out of your hands?” Then she found herself quoting a line from Damien’s favorite movie. “We all may meet our maker today, but the thing I do not want on my tombstone: She went down without a fight.”

She could tell that her logic was getting to her captor, it was showing. Though he didn’t know that she’d trained herself to read expression, and voice patterns after her incident with Travis. She’d only confided this to one other person, and though she couldn’t see the figure’s face, the way he spoke told her a lot. “You care nothing for human life, other than your own. That’s why you’re a monster.” She tossed the notebook to the side, and pulled her knees up, not about to back down from this guy. “So, I give you nothing, and you hurt someone I care about? Yet, if you hurt someone I care about, that would just be motivation to really tell you nothing. ‘If you don’t tell me anything, I’ll hurt someone.’ And if you hurt someone, I won’t tell you anything. So, your logic is pointless.” His laugh made her shudder, but she was still standing her ground. Even in her weakened state. But she was sure he could find another way to get to her, and that threatening those she cared for wasn’t the only card he had to play.

As he grabbed her hair again, she tried to fight him off, even hitting him in the head with the shackle around her right wrist. “What do I have to say? I say you’re a psychopathic coward that hides behind a mask because he’s scared. You mess with the weak, and the vulnerable, because it’s fun for you. But if that’s what you expected of me, you chose the wrong person to kidnap.”

She was getting riled up and he found himself more amused than bothered by it. Comparing him to Santa Claus? He much preferred the Boogeyman. But, of course, that would have implied that he was actually a monster. Which, again, he disagreed with. She slapped his hand away and he pulled tighter before releasing his grip and taking a step back. He let her go on, even go as far as to threaten her own life. "You mean nothing to me, Carolina." As much as he wanted to know what dark past lurked behind those she was closes to, at the end of the day she was just a body and he didn't mind upping the count. "You want the upper hand? You want to kill yourself?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a hunting knife. "Go ahead, reach for it." The masked figure held out the knife barely out of reach and then pulled it back further, twirling it between his fingers. "I'll make sure your parents know how brave you were. If you kill yourself then you go down without a fight. A coward's death."

He took another step back and spun around the trunk, "Oh, AGAIN with the names. I get it. I'm awful. I'm terrible. Do you think that you're going to prove anything by telling me how uncaring I am?" The man turned around and faced Carolina. "You're the one who is supposed to care, right? I'm giving you an options here. Do you honestly feel as though keeping a few secrets is worth one of your friend's dying? What is this? Some sort of pride thing?" He scoffed, "You're chained down to the ground. How long can you go before you're sitting in your own filth? You are at the bottom Carolina. Someone is going to die, and for what? Because you want to keep your mouth shut? Because you want to act as though you've got me all figured out?" He flipped the knife around in his hand, playfully, as he continued to speak, "If you're trying to mess with me then you are shit out of luck. It's not working, sorry. I'm sure your friends will appreciate knowing that they died because you were too stubborn to write."

Their interaction hadn't gone as well as he had hoped but he felt it was getting late and he needed to leave before anyone grew suspicious. The masked man tossed the used notebook, as well as the flashlight, into the trunk and closed the lid. She hadn't delivered what he wanted so she didn't get to eat. It was as simple as that. He kicked the empty notebook closer to Carolina. "I think the blonde looks sweet. Sophia, it it?" As she had mentioned his mask before, he took the opportunity to lift it up. He only revealed his smile, a sickening grin that spread out his cheeks almost inhumanly wide. It was only for a split second but it was the most he had ever revealed to anyone. He slipped the mask down and with that, his face was hidden again. Was he just a coward behind a mask?

The hunting knife was still in his hand and he showed it to Carolina again. There wasn't much light in the storage space now that he had put away the flashlight but the sun was starting to come out and a bit of light shined through the small crack at the bottom of the door. "Nobody has to die Carolina."

Qu'est-ce que c'est? | Carolina + The Killer

"And if I don’t, so be it. I don’t know what you want, but you’re not getting it." She fought back tears as the figure spoke about how she preferred to be found…if she were ever found. With that, she knew her eventual fate was sealed, she would die, here, or somewhere else, by his hand, or the wasting away of her own body. "Alive." She replied to his question, knowing he would only laugh at her.

She grabbed the water as soon as it was placed in front of her, checking the seal for herself, and squeezing it to make sure there weren’t any pin holes where a needle could’ve been inserted. She’d seen enough news reports, tv shows, and movies, to know almost all of the tricks. Finding nothing, she opened it and drank about half of the bottle, setting it back on the cement floor as her captor read over the pages. Suddenly, out of her mouth came something this man had probably never heard before in his life. “Thank you.” She was grateful for the water, even if it wouldn’t help her for long.

'I'm going to take this.' It seemed to float in the air for several minutes. Oh no, what is he going to do with my letters? She watched as he reached into the trunk, and pulled out another notebook, this one as black as his mask, and slid it over to her, listening carefully to his words. “So that’s it…” Carolina never had a problem speaking up, even in dire situations. “You know that I know things, and you know that I write them down. But you don’t know where to find them, do you?” A satisfied smile crossed her features, and she placed the black notebook in her lap, as she had the red one. “That’s something you’ll never understand. Caring for people, and having them care for you. Keeping their secrets is worth killing myself over. And if giving you nothing, means they don’t end up in a situation similar to mine, or worse, then my life is worth a damn.” Carolina was glad that her captor hadn’t seemed to notice the letter to Sophia yet, telling her she could publish her ‘leather bound life’ now. Indicating that Sophia knew where Carolina’s journals were located. Either that, or it was too cryptic for him to understand what she meant.

"If you want the truth, I’ll write it for you. But I won’t give you anything that will hurt anyone that I care for."

#para:carolina #i missed the letter to sophia?!#this is why i cant make reply plans in the middle of the night #i thought i had read everything posted #carolina

A rush of power began to filter through his veins as her words of gratitude met his ears. Carolina's life was in his hands, he could kill her at any moment, and yet she was still thankful for a single bottle of water. Behind the mask he smiled, "I'm not a monster." It would have been difficult to find anyone who agreed with him but the words left his lips anyway. His smile faded and he pet Carolina's hair, "I need you to survive, for now, so don't die on me. Not yet."

He groaned as Carolina found the strength to speak up to him. No, he didn't know where her journals were. His search, before he had captured Carolina, had come up empty. Had he found them, she would likely have been left alone. It was too late for that now, though. There was no way he was returning to her house. The place was crawling with police officers. "I don't need them now that I have you." It was a bit of a front, as he would have preferred the journals but he refused to show weakness. He scoffed as she mentioned caring about people. "You're speaking to me as if that means anything to me. It doesn't." A low laugh formed, "And what if I threaten their lives? You obviously don't give a shit about your own life. But would you be willing to expose their demons if it meant their protection?" He tugged at her hair, "What do you have to say?"

Qu'est-ce que c'est? | Carolina + The Killer

Carolina never heard the car pull into the lot of the storage unit. Sometime during the night, or at least before first light, her body had involuntarily forced her to sleep, and it wasn’t until she heard something being dragged across the lot outside, that her eyes blinked open, and she woke rather quickly, pulling herself up from the cement floor to sit upright. Could it be someone else? Could this be someone that could help her? She almost screamed to see if she could get their attention, but decided to wait to see which way the sound was going.

Unfortunately, it stopped right in front of the door she found herself staring at, followed by a large bang as something hit the ground. She moved back against the brick wall behind her, in panic, knowing exactly who it was. He’d come back. She fought to calm herself, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her pleading, or her tears. She’d made that vow to herself days ago. It was fuel for him, and she knew it.

She heard him working on something, then on the door’s padlock, shielding her eyes with a groan as it was lifted, and the light blinded her. She couldn’t see anything for the few seconds it was open, partially thankful when he reclosed it. He…brought a trunk. Well, thank God it wasn’t big enough for her. And she watched as he perched upon it, and his smarmy voice hissed out ‘I’ve got something for you’. She shivered as she looked into the hollow eyes of the black mask. “Should I care? Since you’re going to kill me anyway?” Her own voice was gravely, but still defiant.

Carolina reached for the notebook when the figure asked about what she’d written, holding it in her lap as he spoke. Her last words were written on these pages, and she was reluctant to give them away. “Why do you care about what I write so much? Why did you want me to?” She finally placed it in his outstretched hand when she started thinking of all the things he could do if she didn’t. Her head was still throbbing from his previous attack, and she didn’t want that again. She went silent, hoping that the words on those pages wouldn’t be torn to shreds.

A deep chuckle escaped his throat as Carolina mentioned the expiration date hanging over her head. He shrugged and then spoke, "With an attitude like that, well, you're not going to make it another day." It wasn't a threat, as much as honesty. He had no intention of killing her, at least not at the moment, but if she didn't at least drink something soon she wouldn't have many days ahead of her. "It's your choice, however. How would you prefer to be found?" A smirk was hidden behind the mask, "That is, if they ever find your body."

He sighed deeply and pulled his body back as Carolina resisted giving up her notebook. "I can't tell you." The masked man didn't want Carolina to know that he had wanted her last thoughts. That he wanted to get deep into her brain. It might change what she wrote about. He leaned forward again, arm still stretched out, and took hold of the notebook. As a reward, he decided to give her something while he read through the notebook. He stood up from the trunk and popped open the top. A flashlight was pulled out but also a bottle of water. "Drink up." The bottle was placed within reaching distance in front of Carolina. The seal was unbroken, indicating that it hadn't been tampered with.

The pages of the notebook were pulled back as he shined his flashlight on them. He scanned the pages for anything useful but found nothing but letters to her parents and Damien Waren. Carolina's parents didn't live in Maywood Hills but surely would be coming to town soon due to her disappearance so he felt as though her letter could come in handy in the future. Damien's letter seemed like something of immediate use though. He still didn't think he had enough. "I'm going to take this." His words lingered in the air as he reached into the trunk and pulled out another notebook, "And you're going to give me more. I don't want lovesick letters. I want the truth. Give me details. Your friend's secrets aren't worth killing yourself over. Write like your life's worth a damn."

Qu'est-ce que c'est? | Carolina + The Killer

It was early morning when he decided to check up on Carolina. He had left her without food or water and the last thing he needed was for her to die before he got what he wanted out of her. The storage facility was empty as he drove his car into the lot. Although it wasn't abandoned, it wasn't a very sought after facility either. Belongings were left there to be forgotten. He checked the surroundings before finding the storage unit that Carolina had been left inside. While he normally wore clothes that hid his appearance, in order not to look suspicious he dawned a more casual attire. The lot appeared empty, however, and he knew he was free to find Carolina.

He returned to his car and retrieved a trunk. Purposely making it grind against the concrete, he slid it across the lot until he was in front of Carolina's storage unit. The heartless man knelt down on one knee and played with the trunk lock, each painstakingly slow click echoed across the lot. When the trunk was finally peeled open, a plastic face shaped black mask sat on top of a picnic basket. He slipped the mask on, which covered his entire face except for his eyes, and slammed the trunk shut. The details of his eyes became indistinct as the mask's shadow swallowed them up. Moments later, he was opening the storage unit and letting a stream of morning light seep in.

The door was opened just enough to push the trunk in and duck under and then he pulled it shut to prevent noise from getting out. "I've got something for you." He took a seat on top of the trunk and patted the top, "Would you care to find out what it is?" His gaze lazily darted back and forth between Carolina and the notebook that he had left for her. Leaning forward, he continued to speak, "Have you written anything worthwhile?" There was a slight pause as he held his hand out for the notebook, "I'll take a look, and then decide if you deserve what I've brought you. How does that sound?" He folded his fingers back as if he was grabbing the air, "Come on, hand it over."

#para:caroline #carolina

Paint It Black || Carolina & The Killer

As the driver’s side door was closed, Carolina knew that she’d be restrained, to prevent her from trying to fight back, possibly crashing the car, and to prevent her from jumping from it. She knew the hooded figure was that smart. The duct tape he wrapped around her abdomen also kept her arms pinned close to her sides, unable to give any kind of signal to anyone if they happened to pass them. His voice was sarcastic and smarmy, making her skin crawl. “What the hell do you want from me?!” She screamed, trying to loosen the tape, and getting nowhere. The figure didn’t answer her, instead, pulling off three smaller pieces, covering her eyes and mouth. He didn’t want to hear her, she got that. He didn’t want her to see how they were arriving at his chosen destination, she got that too, screaming beneath the tape as he said his snide little remark, and the car began to move.

She wanted so much to panic, but she hand to be smart. She couldn’t see where they were going, and with the loud country music playing, she couldn’t hear anything outside of the car either. But she did have one thing: She could feel it. Taped, and buckled to the passenger’s seat, she went silent, and suddenly became very still. So still, that she was shocked that the figure hadn’t noticed. Maybe he thought she was just being a complacent victim, but he was wrong. She’d heard, and seen enough ‘locked in car trunk’ stories, to know that if you stayed completely still, you could tell certain things about direction, and circumstances. Whether the car made a right, or a left. Whether the road was straight, or curvy, even, or had hills. If you were on a highway, or a main road, just by the feel of the tires on the terrain. Carolina was trying to memorize it all, hoping that it would help her somehow. The one thing she couldn’t tell, was how long they’d been driving. If she knew that, she could calculate approximately how far from Maywood Hills he’d taken her…no such luck.

The car left pavement, and hit dirt, and the terror stuck again. Not the woods! Please not the woods! That’s when the tears started to fall, old memories returning, only this situation was much, much worse. Suddenly the car stopped, and the music ceased as the engine came to rest. The driver’s door opened, and closed, leaving Carolina in the car alone, struggling with the tape again. But it wasn’t long before her captor returned, opening her door, and cutting her from the seat, and dragging her with him.

She knew they’d entered a house as her feet went from gravel, to hardwood, a pungent musty smell invading her nose. Even more so as she was led down a creaky flight of stairs and he carelessly ripped off the rest of the tape. A basement…dark, cold, damp, and lit only by a bare bulb that hung from the ceiling. She hit the cement floor hard as he dragged her down, the chill of the metal chains sending a chill through her entire body as he wrapped them around her wrist, and ankle. “No! Please don’t! Please don’t do this! Please!” But her pleading was to no avail, she was still chained to a wall with no way out.

The hooded figure released her once he was satisfied with his handy work, and without a word, turned to go upstairs. “DON’T!” She screamed, pulling at the chains that only let her go so far. “DON’T LEAVE ME HERE! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” Again, her pleading was ignored, and the figure disappeared from sight, leaving only the sound of the door closing in his wake.

She had to get out of this place, any way she could. As she sought to try to slip the chain from her wrist, it wouldn’t budge. That was when she remembered the one thing that her captor forgot. Her phone had buzzed a few times during the drive here, and thanks to the loud music, went unnoticed. Three text messages from Sophia. She’d found Carolina’s necklace in the park, and was worried about her. At least that smart move didn’t go to waste. She quickly texted her back, telling her to take the necklace to Damien, and that she didn’t know where she was. She wasn’t sure if Sophia really understood what she meant, because her reply was sketchy. She had to try Damien, she just had to. Scrolling to his number, she started a text and typed it quickly, frantically, in a state of panic…praying that he could understand the words that her shaky fingers had sent him.

#para:carolina #thanks for picking up my slack in the description department #i swear i'm normally a better writer #carolina

Had pleas ever worked before? He only felt a shiver slide down his spine as they met his ears. He never once thought about listening to their demands. Their screams, tears, and begging only made the experience more enjoyable for him. If he let someone go it was part of his plan, not because they had asked for it. The more they pleaded for their lives, for the safety of those close to them, the more tempting it was to continue the torture. Carolina was no exception. He said nothing each time she brought her distress to his attention. Inside, he was thriving on it. In due time she would find out his intentions but he wasn't ready to share the information. Preparations still had to be made.

He returned to the car and retrieved Carolina's backpack. It was brought inside and he started to go through its contents. No journals. Frustrated, it was his instinct to throw the backpack onto the ground but the laptop was still inside. If Carolina hadn't written anything down on paper, perhaps there was something worth reading on her laptop. He was no computer hacker, however, so he would need her information in order to log-in. Grumbling, he slipped the computer out of the backpack and headed back down to the basement.

As the basement door swung open, he expected to only see a dim light hanging from the ceiling. The bulb was still there but there was another light shining by Carolina. Immediately he knew what it was. A cellphone. "Son of a bitch." The hooded figure grunted out before dropping the laptop just inches from the ground. He rushed down the steps and pulled out his gun. As soon as he could reach Carolina, he was hitting her with the gun. Slamming it against her head. With one hand still on the gun, he took the other and snatched the phone from her grasp. One final blow to the temple and he was sure that she was out.

Her phone was ripped apart. Screen smashed, glass cutting into the bottom of his shoe. Battery stomped on. Sim card snapped in half. By the time he was finished destroying it, his victims had received lesser fates. With a huff, he turned to Carolina, her action was not going to go without punishment. .

Paint It Black || Carolina & The Killer

That “Careful” sent another chill down her spine, and Carolina kept telling herself not to make a noise, not to do anything that may attract attention, not to even look scared…though she was terrified. If he wanted her, she’d go, but she wouldn’t drag any unsuspecting bystanders into this, not while the figure had a gun. A gun that kept tapping against the back of her head if he didn’t think she was walking fast enough. “I won’t. I swear.” She said tearfully, and softly, when he warned her not to look back. As much as she tried to figure out a way to get out of this, without anyone getting hurt, she couldn’t. Sure, she could hit him, or move out of his grip and run, but that would only result in him shooting her, or someone else, for her defiance. And if not to kill her, to make her fall back in line.

As they came out of the other side of the tree line, she saw the car. A non-descript Honda. Something that wouldn’t stand out, that no one would remember completely, even if they had seen her get in the car. That’s when she let the terror surface, the hooded figure’s arm around her waist only making it worse as he dragged her toward it. The idea of being mobile…’that’ mobile, horrified her. It meant he could take her anywhere, miles away from here, states away if he wanted to. She braced her hands on the hood of the car, above the window, trying to force herself to stop shaking, and failing miserably. With a shrug of her shoulder, she let the backpack fall, the strap falling right into her captor’s hand. There was nothing of value in it. Her laptop only contained her search history, and her homework…but he didn’t know that. With a deep breath, she grasped the door handle, pulling the door open, and getting in, knowing that the one thing of value that she had, was in her pocket, not her backpack.