The Masked Murderer

Hunted

Melancholy hung in the air. Thoughts of  Corrine surfaced through my mind, and dread settled in the pit of my stomach. Reality finally sank in.

 Corrine was not coming back.

 The Masked Murderer was still out there, somewhere, preying on his next victim or even hunting down the next unfortunate soul.

The Galveston Police, in conjunction with the FBI and the State of Texas, were exerting every effort to hunt him down, locate him, and put him behind bars once and for all. However, it wasn't an easy task. The Masked Murderer meticulously planned each murder with sophistication and diligence, aiming to avoid capture.

All of us who attended Jess's birthday party on that tragic night were left traumatized. A trauma that would forever be etched into our hearts and our minds. I'd been grieving for the past few weeks, yet I knew I couldn't let Corrine's death consume me. However, I was determined not to let her passing be in vain either. I wanted the Masked Murderer to be found, charged, and justice served.

My innermost desire was for vigilante justice- true justice, not a scenario in which the courts would permit him to continue his life in a prison that resembled a private gated community. Tying him up and letting each of the victims torture him just like he did us.

Only then would true justice be served.

***

I awoke to the aroma of bacon floating through the air and wafting its way into my nose. The not-so-distant sizzling sounds permeated the air of our apartment.

As I lifted myself up in bed, I stretched my arms out and let out a yawn. Clenching my fists, I rubbed my eyes.

"Charles?" I called out, awaiting his response, but heard nothing. I climbed out of bed, making my way toward the closet. Reaching in, I grabbed my white robe from off the hook. Slipping my arms into the warm and cozy sleeves, I wrapped it around my body and tied it in the front.

I strolled down the hallway and into the kitchen; to my surprise, Nathan was frying bacon and pouring waffle mix into the waffle maker. The soft strains of radio tunes played in the background from the old black stereo sitting atop our countertop.

Nathan's eyes met mine as soon as I walked in. "Good morning, Olivia!" he greeted with a smile, revealing a set of pristine white teeth.

My brows furrowed in curiosity as to why Nathan was cooking breakfast in our kitchen. "Where's Charles?" I asked, bewilderment evident on my face.

Nathan shrugged, "He got called into work."

"And why are you here?" I inquired, still bewildered by his sudden appearance in our apartment on a Friday morning.

Nate scooped up an ice cream spoonful of waffle mix and poured it onto the waffle maker. He then turned to me, gazing into my eyes.

"I needed a place to stay for a few weeks." Nathan explained, "I'll be out of here before the end of the month. I just need to save up for the first and last month's deposit on a new apartment."

The realization that Nathan would be living with Charles and me for almost a month caused my eyes to widen in disbelief. After everything we'd been through, I couldn't fathom why Charles hadn't consulted with me first. The mere thought of him casually agreeing to Nathan's stay ignited a simmering anger within me, the heat rising in my chest.

Mentally and emotionally, I knew this arrangement would be taxing. I questioned whether I could handle having Nathan in our home for such an extended period, especially after everything I'd been through. Already, he seemed to be settling in, making himself at home by using my favorite ice cream scooper for his waffle mix.