Eve - Eve

Taylor wiped sticky sweat from her brow. Groaning, she noticed the neckline of her nightshirt to be moist as well. She took even breaths and finally calmed down enough to stand. When she checked her phone on her nightstand, the time was only 3am.

Again.

For the last few nights, Taylor woke up at the same time, drenched in sweat, and heart pounding - as if waking from a terrible nightmare. Every night. Luckily, Blake slept through most of her stirring. She let her husband be, not bothering to wake him up this time, changed into a clean shirt, and decided to do something - anything - other than sleep.

She grabbed her laptop and plopped onto the couch in her living room. It was 3 in the morning, but that didn't stop her from opening a can of diet coke. To make the darkness less creepy, she left the kitchen light on and played The Office on the television. Bruce, their bunny, looked at her curiously. He wasn't used to anyone being up in the night.

"Hi, baby," she rubbed his nose after he leaped onto the couch.
Bruce nibbled her finger in response, then went about his business.

Taylor knew she needed to get some writing done anyway, so being up early was beneficial. She already had a guilty conscience not writing a Thanato story for October - her "tradition" of sorts. Not to mention the last story had been left half finished. Her novel was important, sure, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss Thanato - just a little bit.

After an hour or so, her Netflix struggled to load, pausing on the many absurd faces of Michael Scott. Taylor took this time to start editing a few sentences of her Manuscript, undistracted. Something else was on her mind, though. She wished she could remember the dreams she was having, and why they startled her so badly.

They had to be scary, she thought. She remembered how viciously her heart and chest throbbed. Her pulse was deafening in her ears. Just thinking about it made the hairs on the back on her neck stand, and felt the need to look behind her.

Taylor couldn't put her finger on it, but something was amiss. She felt it in her guts - tightening and making her almost ill. But what?

Bruce suddenly bolted for his cardboard house - something he only did when she vacuumed or something really startled him. Taylor jumped in her seat and then giggled, feeling silly. They'd been watching too many scary movies. It was October after all!

"What's wrong, buns?" she cooed.
Bruce hid so well, she could only see the light from his beady little eyes. Strange, she thought, and continued writing. She'd gotten to reviewing page 64 when a dull tap came from her sliding screen door.

Now she was scared. She could blame the wind and trees, except their screen lead to a balcony with no trees near it. Her curtains protected her from seeing anything. Maybe it was a bird?

An early bird... 

Another tap. It seriously sounded like a nail pressing against the glass, Taylor thought. When the tapping came in threes, her heart froze.

Tap, tap, tap. 

Nope, nope, nope.

She left the comfort of her couch to grab her husband. It could be nothing, but having him check would put her at ease. Just before entering the bedroom, her cell made the loudest, worst, text alert noise. She squealed and nearly peed herself. Heart back into marathon-mode, she checked her screen, the light burning her eyes. A message from Capri.

She'll have to wait a sec.

Taylor reached out for Blake and shook his shoulder.

"Hm?"

"Blaaake. I'm scared..." 

"Oh, ok," Blake mumbled.

"Blake!" 

"Hm!" 

A loud banging thundered from the living room. Her blood ran cold when she realized it was their screen door again. Blake sat up instantly. They were too startled to speak but looked at each other with wide eyes. Blake got out of bed to investigate, tiptoeing down the hall.

Taylor could hardly contain her anxiety watching him go. She fiddled with her hands, wondering if she needed to grab a make-shift weapon of some kind. After an excruciating few minutes, she heard him call out to her. 

"Nothin," he said.

Taylor trembled but felt relieved, and by the way Blake's voice sounded, he was relieved as well. Blake proceeded to perform a perimeter check, making sure all the locks were nice and tight, even pet Bruce, before returning to bed. 

"Probably some dumb kids," Blake said.

"Goodness... I almost had a freaking heart attack," she said.

Blake pulled her into a hug and fell asleep again, almost too quickly. Taylor lay awake, feeling better, but not entirely. It was one thing to bang on their front door, but their sliding door? Whoever was out there knew she'd been closeby - close enough to hear the tapping...  

She'd almost forgotten about Capri's text.

Capri - 
Taylor. Have you seen this?

Capri was one of Taylor's best friends and was also, usually, awake at odd hours of the night. Attached to the text were a link and an image - something about a recent death in the area. Perfect, Taylor sighed, just what she wanted to read right now. She replied:

Taylor - 
Noooo...  it looks creepy tho

Capri - 
But does it look familiar?!

Taylor frowned. Why would a crime scene look familiar? Unless Capri meant it was someone they knew personally. Worried now, Taylor opened the link and scanned the article. The name wasn't familiar, pretty common sounding. Spencer Conaway. The way he died, however, not as common.

The police found him in his own basement, shoved into an iron coffin - or iron maiden. He wasn't rescued in time, obviously. Suffering multiple wounds from long spikes and bleeding to death, no image of his corpse was available to the public. If that wasn't enough, the article made it sound as if the iron maiden was handmade - recently.

Taylor -
Holy crap!!! 

Capri - 
I know! I had to text you! It's so much like your creepy story! It freaked me out...

Taylor paused.

Oh. Her story.

She had to admit, that was pretty odd. And coincidental. How many people died from iron maidens these days? And the detail about it being in the basement? It was an awful lot like Taylor's first Thanato story. If she remembered correctly, the character's name was also Spencer. The unsettling feeling in her stomach returned. Her eyes started making illusions out of shadows - kind of how she did as a child. Every dark corner of the room or cracked doorway would somehow come to life and move or make shapes and figures.

She forced her eyes shut, knowing it was the only cure. When she opened them again, she was greeted by light. The air was warm she felt horribly groggy. Like deja-vu, she checked her phone for the time - 9am. 

They'd slept in, but it was the weekend. She didn't know how she'd been able to fall back asleep, but she had. Now they could go about their morning; shower, breakfast - 

The thundering banging returned, this time, from the front door. Afraid, but also annoyed, Taylor through on some slippers and planned on catching the pranksters in broad daylight. Blake sluggishly came-to, and followed with his eyes half shut. 

When they opened the door, the morning sun greeted them. Along with a pair of men in matching blue uniforms. 

*****

Taylor was escorted into a private room of the Sheriff's station, accompanied by the policemen who picked them up. Blake had to wait in the lobby but shot her a worried look before she disappeared. While sitting in the warmly lit room, Taylor couldn't get a sense of hostility. Not yet, anyway. Cops were always pretty stern, but they hadn't given any indication that she was in trouble.

Yet...

The Sheriff walked in and casually shook her hand. His expression was difficult to read; thick eyebrows furrowed in concern. He cleared his throat before speaking and met her eyes.

"As you know, we're investigating potential serial killings," he paused, "It's also possible that there are multiple killers."

Taylor wall filled in about the situation before arriving. Apparently, the article Capri sent her last night had some horrific significance to this case, and to her. She wasn't under arrest, yet, but they did want to ask her some questions. Taylor knew half the cops here - she grew up here, and her grandfather was a respected lawyer, so she felt in good company. It was like Sunday dinner, but discussing murder victims.

"Like the killer has a partner? Why do you think that?" Taylor asked.

"Because," the Sheriff pulled out several files from his drawer, and spread them out on the desk in front of her, "Similar killings are happening in neighboring states."

She took a closer look at one of the files. One labeled "Clowns" caught her eye. When she opened the file, a picture slipped out. A red-haired girl impaled by a hook, and her top drenched in blood. Taylor looked away.

"What was her name?" she asked.

"Jessica Niels."

Her heart sank. The Sheriff was able to catch on.

"I didn't want to believe it at first, but a message was left at the last crime scene. A message for you," he said.

"Me?"

"Looks like a puzzle piece but a picture of you was attached," he whipped out a ziplock bag, labeled "evidence."

Taylor took a closer look, without opening the bag - the contents covered in bloodstains. Inside, a puzzle piece with a black 12 written in sharpie. The picture of her wasn't one she'd taken herself, or with any of her friends. She was getting in her car, completely unaware of her photographer.

Creepy.

"You know why we're reaching out to you," the Sheriff said.

Taylor nodded, trying to keep cool. Inside her was a tornado of panic, terror, and despair. People were dying. People were being targeted.

Because of her?

"We don't want to believe you're part of this," he explained, "But, right now, we don't have many leads. You might be able to give us some insight. If you are part of this, then this is not going to end well for you."

"Of course, I'm not part of this," she gasped, "I will help if I can..."

He nodded, "Look at some of these, see if anything triggers something. We already got a copy or your story being analyzed, hopefully, we can stop the next attack."

"Who was last to die?" Taylor asked.

"Uh. A man named Blake Daniels. His body is currently with the coroner - giant hole through the chest."

"It's me," she muttered.

The Sheriff frowned, "What is?"

It was a hunch, but hearing Blake's name made her run through the list of people in Thanato. From the images, and even names, it seemed the killer was targeting specific people in accordance to her story. Blake was eleventh to go.

It was all supposed to be fun, scary nonsense.

"I'm next. Number twelve," she lifted the evidence bag, "If the killer is going in order of the Thanato story, that is. If not me, then someone with my name and general looks, just like Jessica and Spencer..."

He didn't respond right away, so she continued, "Were puzzle pieces found on the other victims?"

They starred at each other for a long moment. His tired eyes never blinked. Before he answered, she knew her assumption had been correct.

"Yes," he said, "But no photos."

"Are my friends in danger, Sheriff?"

"Though the killer hasn't come for any of you directly, I think it would be ignorant to believe otherwise. We don't know what game he's playing, but it definitely seems tied to this story. Maybe a crazed fan, or an enemy of yours?"

"I can't think of anyone who hates me that much. Or a fan who likes me that much either."

"Crazy people don't need rational explanations for their actions."

Taylor's hands shook. She thought about her husband, and how the copycat had already gone after his "double." It could've been him. It could've been any of them.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"Well," the Sheriff scratched his beard, "We can play his game, put the pieces together. Although we're missing a significant amount - which means he plans to kill more people. How many more die in your... um, Halloween blog?"

"That depends," Taylor chewed the inside of her cheek, "There are two."

"Two more dead?"

"Two blogs..."

"Good lord."

Special Episode This Halloween!

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