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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Horror / Scary
- Published: 06/11/2017
Murder by Moonlight
Born 1964, F, from Gordon, ACT, Australia“Full Moon Killer strikes again!”
Gary Miller shook his head sadly, and clicked on the link for more information. A serial killer was the most exciting thing to happen in his town, and the townsfolk were following the story with a morbidly insatiable curiosity.
This month, the wrong-place-wrong-time sucker was Kevin Bond. A 28 year old child in a man’s body thanks to a brain-destroying dedication to alcohol and drugs. Kevin still lived with his parents and, despite the town curfew, was known to seek privacy in the nearby park in order to pursue his goal of mental and physical destruction. Fortunately for the late Kevin Bond, he was all but unconscious already when the killer found him and decorated his body with punctures and deep slashes. He died without knowing he was dying.
The previous month, poor timid Ellie-the-librarian made the fatal decision to take a shortcut home through the park. Her body was discovered the next morning, so badly mutilated that identification was initially made based on the library ID which still hung around her tattered neck.
Before that … Gary thought for a minute, and seemed to recall the police finding the torn remains of some homeless guy who had been having a party for one in the local cemetery. His body had been so badly savaged, it was at first thought that he had been attacked by wild animals.
And so on, and so forth.
No-one was a suspect, everyone was a suspect. Neighbour silently contemplated neighbour; family members reported the “suspicious behaviour” of other family members. One woman nearly killed her husband with a saucepan when he tried to sneak into the house after a later-than-anticipated return from the pub. The sports store could barely keep up with the demand for baseball bats and the like. Gary himself carried a small but efficient switchblade, fifty nine dollars from ebay; half of him feeling like a dangerous badboy, the other half terrified that ownership was going to get him into trouble.
Come late afternoon, full moon or not, the streets were all but deserted. No-one needed a curfew to tell them that being out after dark was a really, really bad idea.
But still the bodies kept piling up.
Gary finished the article, stood and stretched. His little dog, Pepper, took it as a sign that walks were imminent, and ran in excited circles while Gary tried to fasten the lead without getting too badly tangled. It was getting a little late in the afternoon, but he figured that at least now he didn’t have to worry about being killed for another month.
The whole town seemed to cycle down after the latest murder. Walkers nodded comfortably at each other as they passed, children screeched in the playground under the watchful gaze of their mothers as the sky slowly darkened towards evening.
But as the days became weeks, tensions started rising. Leisurely strolls became quick power-walks, more eye contact was made with the pavement than with other people, dogs were jerked away from interesting smells and told to hurry up and squeeze one out so they could all go home.
By the time the first night of the full moon arrived, the curfew was in force and enforced. Police cars patrolled the streets slowly, shining light into the darkest corners. More than one amorous couple was rousted from doorways and from behind bushes, and sent on their way, scowling with frustration and muttering about heavy-handed police state.
By the second night, nerves were at screaming pitch.
Gary stood and peered out the window, watching as a police car prowled by. Pepper immediately started running in circles, squeaking under his breath about walks in the moonlight.
“Sorry, little man” said Gary. “It’s just too dangerous. How about a nice double-long walk tomorrow?”
As with most animals, Pepper didn’t quite grasp the concept of delayed gratification. A normal walk right now was vastly preferable to some amorphous concept of a double-long walk at some time in the unforeseeable future. There was really no comparison.
Pepper’s circling slowly dried up as his excitement ebbed away. His nose and tail drooped in dull disappointment. He lifted his sad little face to see if Gary was joking, and didn’t like what he saw. Pepper slowly lay down with a whimper, the sting of betrayal evident in every line.
Gary caved.
Ten minutes later, disappointment completely forgotten, Pepper was out sniffing bushes, his stumpy tail wagging so furiously that his whole back end swayed.
Gary clutched the leash tightly, his ears and eyes working overtime. Killers aside, he really didn’t want the embarrassment of being sent home by the police. And, human nature being what it is, he didn’t really believe murder could happen to him.
Now they were at the park, Pepper desperate to go in and run around without a lead. And really, what were the odds that the Full-Moon Killer would be at the exact same spot at this exact same time …
Very much against his better judgement, Gary led Pepper into the park and released the hound.
Pepper ran off, trying to sniff everything at once.
Then he stopped, the hackles rising along his neck. A tinny growl erupted from his throat as he slowly backed up, his tail dropping.
Scuffling noises, a grunt, high pitched breathing, nearly a scream.
Gary crept forward, hand on knife, and peered through the bushes.
The bright moonlight revealed a horrifying scene, two figures grappling, a knife flashing between them.
Gary forgot his fear, and charged forward. “Hey! Hey!” he called out (although he made a mental note to change it to something more scintillating when recounting his heroism to reporters).
Both figures turned to him, the knife falling between them. The woman collapsed to the ground and started weeping hysterically, the man ran in Gary’s direction, hands outstretched. Gary panicked and lunged forward, his knifeblade flicking out and plunging effortlessly into the man’s neck. The man sank to the ground, eyes round with surprise as the life ran out of him.
Gary collapsed onto his knees beside the body. It was Ernest Something from the Post Office. Who’d have thought it! Ernest was a relative newcomer to the town, telling everyone who listened (whether they wanted to or not) that he was sick of the rat race, just wanted to see out his working years in a town community.
He had moved here nearly four months ago … not quite four months … but seven bodies meant seven months …which meant …
Gary’s insides turned to ice when he heard the woman giggle behind him. He hadn’t even heard her approach. He turned and looked up at her as she stood framed in the moonlight, knife poised and ready to slice.
Murder by Moonlight(Hazel Dow)
“Full Moon Killer strikes again!”
Gary Miller shook his head sadly, and clicked on the link for more information. A serial killer was the most exciting thing to happen in his town, and the townsfolk were following the story with a morbidly insatiable curiosity.
This month, the wrong-place-wrong-time sucker was Kevin Bond. A 28 year old child in a man’s body thanks to a brain-destroying dedication to alcohol and drugs. Kevin still lived with his parents and, despite the town curfew, was known to seek privacy in the nearby park in order to pursue his goal of mental and physical destruction. Fortunately for the late Kevin Bond, he was all but unconscious already when the killer found him and decorated his body with punctures and deep slashes. He died without knowing he was dying.
The previous month, poor timid Ellie-the-librarian made the fatal decision to take a shortcut home through the park. Her body was discovered the next morning, so badly mutilated that identification was initially made based on the library ID which still hung around her tattered neck.
Before that … Gary thought for a minute, and seemed to recall the police finding the torn remains of some homeless guy who had been having a party for one in the local cemetery. His body had been so badly savaged, it was at first thought that he had been attacked by wild animals.
And so on, and so forth.
No-one was a suspect, everyone was a suspect. Neighbour silently contemplated neighbour; family members reported the “suspicious behaviour” of other family members. One woman nearly killed her husband with a saucepan when he tried to sneak into the house after a later-than-anticipated return from the pub. The sports store could barely keep up with the demand for baseball bats and the like. Gary himself carried a small but efficient switchblade, fifty nine dollars from ebay; half of him feeling like a dangerous badboy, the other half terrified that ownership was going to get him into trouble.
Come late afternoon, full moon or not, the streets were all but deserted. No-one needed a curfew to tell them that being out after dark was a really, really bad idea.
But still the bodies kept piling up.
Gary finished the article, stood and stretched. His little dog, Pepper, took it as a sign that walks were imminent, and ran in excited circles while Gary tried to fasten the lead without getting too badly tangled. It was getting a little late in the afternoon, but he figured that at least now he didn’t have to worry about being killed for another month.
The whole town seemed to cycle down after the latest murder. Walkers nodded comfortably at each other as they passed, children screeched in the playground under the watchful gaze of their mothers as the sky slowly darkened towards evening.
But as the days became weeks, tensions started rising. Leisurely strolls became quick power-walks, more eye contact was made with the pavement than with other people, dogs were jerked away from interesting smells and told to hurry up and squeeze one out so they could all go home.
By the time the first night of the full moon arrived, the curfew was in force and enforced. Police cars patrolled the streets slowly, shining light into the darkest corners. More than one amorous couple was rousted from doorways and from behind bushes, and sent on their way, scowling with frustration and muttering about heavy-handed police state.
By the second night, nerves were at screaming pitch.
Gary stood and peered out the window, watching as a police car prowled by. Pepper immediately started running in circles, squeaking under his breath about walks in the moonlight.
“Sorry, little man” said Gary. “It’s just too dangerous. How about a nice double-long walk tomorrow?”
As with most animals, Pepper didn’t quite grasp the concept of delayed gratification. A normal walk right now was vastly preferable to some amorphous concept of a double-long walk at some time in the unforeseeable future. There was really no comparison.
Pepper’s circling slowly dried up as his excitement ebbed away. His nose and tail drooped in dull disappointment. He lifted his sad little face to see if Gary was joking, and didn’t like what he saw. Pepper slowly lay down with a whimper, the sting of betrayal evident in every line.
Gary caved.
Ten minutes later, disappointment completely forgotten, Pepper was out sniffing bushes, his stumpy tail wagging so furiously that his whole back end swayed.
Gary clutched the leash tightly, his ears and eyes working overtime. Killers aside, he really didn’t want the embarrassment of being sent home by the police. And, human nature being what it is, he didn’t really believe murder could happen to him.
Now they were at the park, Pepper desperate to go in and run around without a lead. And really, what were the odds that the Full-Moon Killer would be at the exact same spot at this exact same time …
Very much against his better judgement, Gary led Pepper into the park and released the hound.
Pepper ran off, trying to sniff everything at once.
Then he stopped, the hackles rising along his neck. A tinny growl erupted from his throat as he slowly backed up, his tail dropping.
Scuffling noises, a grunt, high pitched breathing, nearly a scream.
Gary crept forward, hand on knife, and peered through the bushes.
The bright moonlight revealed a horrifying scene, two figures grappling, a knife flashing between them.
Gary forgot his fear, and charged forward. “Hey! Hey!” he called out (although he made a mental note to change it to something more scintillating when recounting his heroism to reporters).
Both figures turned to him, the knife falling between them. The woman collapsed to the ground and started weeping hysterically, the man ran in Gary’s direction, hands outstretched. Gary panicked and lunged forward, his knifeblade flicking out and plunging effortlessly into the man’s neck. The man sank to the ground, eyes round with surprise as the life ran out of him.
Gary collapsed onto his knees beside the body. It was Ernest Something from the Post Office. Who’d have thought it! Ernest was a relative newcomer to the town, telling everyone who listened (whether they wanted to or not) that he was sick of the rat race, just wanted to see out his working years in a town community.
He had moved here nearly four months ago … not quite four months … but seven bodies meant seven months …which meant …
Gary’s insides turned to ice when he heard the woman giggle behind him. He hadn’t even heard her approach. He turned and looked up at her as she stood framed in the moonlight, knife poised and ready to slice.
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