The Masked Murderer

Jess's Bloody Birthday Party- Part I

I opened the front door, stepping outside into the sunlit yard. The beams of sunlight spiraled down at me, drowning me in the humid Texas heat.

"Phew, it's gonna be a hot one." I exclaimed as Charles trailed behind.

As we made our way to his truck, I glanced at him, noticing his bland attire. It was overly simple for a birthday party. He opted for blue jeans and a black short-sleeve button-down shirt.

"Charles, maybe you should add a tie to your button-up?" I asked while we walked to his truck.

Charles rolled his eyes and replied nonchalantly, "I'll be fine."

Charles preferred casual attire over formal attire. It didn't matter if it was a special occasion or not. Last week, Jess asked him if he was willing to spiffy it up for her birthday party since all the other guys, including Justin, were dressing up. But he obviously disregarded that memo.

"I just wish you didn't wear something so casual." I sighed, "Jess was expecting all of us to dress up." I nervously bit my lower lip in anticipation of upsetting Charles but hoped that he didn't receive my comment as an insult.

"Olivia, you know how I feel about being overdressed. I despise it." The dust from the ground sprinkled into the hot air as our shoes stomped through the gravel.

We both opened up our respective doors, climbing into the truck. I grabbed my seatbelt, placed it over my body, and buckled it. Charles put his key into the ignition, starting up his truck; the engine roared. Then, a loud cranking noise puttered out as the engine continued to rev.

My cheeks burned with warmth as the stifling heat permeated the truck's interior.

"Charles, could you please turn on the A/C? It's really hot in here." I complained, fanning myself with my hands as the heat pressed down on me.

I swiped at imaginary beads of sweat on my forehead. Charles loathed using the air conditioner, always grumbling about gas consumption. It would have to be a scorching 130 degrees before he'd relent and switch it on.

"Fine, just this once."

Charles reluctantly reached for the black knob with the four blue stripes and cranked it to the max. Warm air blasted through the vents, offering little relief. It would be a while before the cabin cooled down.

As I fumbled to pull the zipper of my dress back up, it unexpectedly came undone. With a delicate touch, I secured the zipper, but then... Pop! Something soared through the air.

Was that my zipper?!

I checked my dress. The zipper was still in tack. Then I looked down at my hands. The fresh French manicure I had received at the salon a few days ago was now ruined.

"Darn it!" I said as I brought my index finger towards my face while inspecting it. The finger was now missing the white French manicure tip.

"What happened?'" Charles asked, concerned, stealing quick glances at me while also trying to focus on the road ahead.

"Oh, nothing...just broke a nail," I replied solemnly.

I leaned back into my headrest, relaxing my shoulders while enjoying the warm air that drifted into the truck. It breezed by my cheeks like the air flowing through an electric fan on a warm summer's day.

Charles continued to drive down the country road. I stared out the window, admiring the oak trees as their leaves blew in the delicate summer wind. Light brown weeds sprouted out from the fields where the old abandoned barn sat for what seemed like an eternity. I was always afraid that the Masked Murderer would hide out there and find me since Charles and I lived so close to it. But I tried to erase that thought from my mind whenever it would appear.