Randy and Walter: Killers Part 3

Cautious, Randy crept his way into the dark house. There was no noise; it was deathly silent, as if no one was in there. Which was strange, considering he just personally watched Daniel walking around the house from room to room.

Randy slid the knife out of his sleeve and into the palm of his hand, expecting to be attacked at any moment. Then the lights flickered back to life. Randy noticed right away that something was very wrong.

Blood covered the walls and the floor. It even dripped from the ceiling. Randy looked into the living room where someone was laughing. He could only hope it was the TV.

It wasn't.

Instead, it was a tall, skinny man with a shaved head and a full beard. He stood in the middle of the living room with a sledgehammer in his hand. The man walked to Randy who in turn backed up, staying as far away from the man as possible. Three bodies were on the ground in the living room. The man was wearing a long, dark black leather trench coat with black gloves and the rest of his suit was also black leather, with leather pants and a zip-up leather s.h.i.+rt. Whoever this guy was, he sure didn't seem to care about being discovered.

He dropped the sledgehammer in front of Randy and turned to the front door to leave. Before he exited, he turned and glared at Randy with two piercing, hazel eyes. With a voice so low it could have been a whisper, he said, "Good luck cleaning this up, Randy. See ya around."

Before Randy could say a word, the man turned and left the house. Randy stood in the hall for a time, wondering what had just happened. Headlights from outside backed away and left, then receded down the street.

Randy gathered his wits and went into the living room. The pummeled corpses were of Daniel, his twelve year old son, and his wife.

Their heads had been smashed in along with pieces of their body. Their arms and legs were bent backwards the bones sticking through the skin. Pieces of their skull lay like fractured eggs on the floor, pink and grey brains oozing out like spilt jello.

With no other options and his plan ruined, Randy quickly came up with another solution. He went into the kitchen and found a liquor cabinet. He broke open all the liquor bottles and poured the contents of each bottle around the house, making especially sure to cover the corpses. He lit a match and set the Victorian house on fire.

As he walked down the front steps, fire br.i.m.m.i.n.g behind him, he noticed that his car was gone. Whoever the man had been, he'd stolen his car and left him at the scene of a triple murder.

Questions poured into his mind but he had no time to wonder about them now. He heard sirens in the distance and when he turned around, the house was already a ma.s.sive blaze. Someone had called the fire department and it sounded like quite a few also.

Without hesitating, Randy began to run. He ran into the nearby woods and kept on running, leaving the burning house and the sound of the sirens far behind him.

He didn't stop running until he reached town. Over the far rooftops he could see the black plume of smoke.

His muscles and sides ached but he ignored the pain. Something very odd had just occurred and he knew he needed to figure it out.

He had to find out who that guy was.

He sat for a moment, withdrew a cigarette from his pants pocket and lit it. As he sat there questioning the past events and drawing in the smoke from the filtered cigarette, he heard more sirens coming his way. He quickly jumped backward into a ditch lining the road and got flat on his stomach. Fire trucks were on there way to Daniel's house along with more cops and an ambulance. He wondered for a second if maybe the guy who'd left him holding the bag had called the cops. Whoever this guy was, he'd just tried to set Randy up.

He didn't know why, but by the way events had played out, he had a feeling whatever the guy was up to, this was only the beginning.

A few hours later, Randy was still walking along the sidewalk. Although he was now in the town proper, he still was far from his home. As he walked, he noticed a familiar sign lying in the middle of the parking lot. He walked over to it and gasped. The sign read, Rapture Bar.

The Rapture Bar was the bar he'd been beaten nearly to death in so many years ago. As he started to remember something, headlights flooded him. He flung himself out of the way as the car skidded to a halt right where he was standing a half second ago.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw it was his car. The front driver side door opened and a man got out. He looked at Randy, who was lying in the parking lot, shaking and afraid. The man threw Randy his car keys which landed beside him.

He smiled at Randy and said in that same, quiet voice, "Congrats, Rand', you escaped. Don't worry about the corpses in your bas.e.m.e.nt; I got rid of those for ya, too. I'll be seeing you again real soon. Have a safe drive home." After the man finished speaking, his smile turned into a grimace. He turned and walked to another car Randy hadn't noticed before then; a black Mustang with a red roof.

Randy stood quickly, attempting to yell, "Who are you?" But before the words came out the car and the man were gone. Randy couldn't help but wonder what it all meant. At the moment, however, he didn't care. He was too tired. He climbed into his car and headed home, the events of the past two days fading out of his mind, for the moment at least. As he drove, he grew aggravated to find his mirrors and the seat weren't where he'd left them.

The guy had messed with them and now they were all out of position.

Randy returned home that night to find his house was entirely clean. The bodies of Amy and Georgia were gone from the bas.e.m.e.nt and the hole had been filled in and new cement had been applied.

Perhaps this is where the bodies were buried, now sealed under a new layer of concrete, but somehow, though, Randy doubted it. That man didn't come off as the type who believed or cared about such things. He came off as someone who believes in nothing and cares for less. He searched the house, making sure that nothing had been taken. When he was absolutely sure nothing was missing he undressed and went to bed.

Randy slept till late in the afternoon the next day. When he finally awoke, it wasn't because he wanted to; it was because someone was banging on the front door. He got up, pulled on a pair of pants and a white t- s.h.i.+rt and went to the door and opened it. Outside waiting patiently, was a policeman in his mid-forties. The cop was a short, pudgy man with a grey mustache and bushy hair. He looked as though he'd spent most of his life in donut shops.

On his face he wore an expression of caring and concern. "Mr. Barcer?" the policeman asked.

"Yes?" Randy replied.

"Mr. Barcer, do you know where your wife and child are?"

Randy's thoughts became muddled as a wave of dizziness overcame him. They knew and they had him. He cleared his head in the hope that he was wrong.

"No, not at this precise moment. They went out last night to go to my wife's mother's or something. I a.s.sumed they stayed the night, why, is something wrong? Did something happen to them?"

The policeman took a moment to look into Randy's eyes as if he was feeling him out.

"Mr. Barcer, I'm sorry to be the one to inform you of this but it appears your wife and child went over to attorney Daniel J. Gordon's office yesterday afternoon. It appears that Daniel and your wife were having an affair. We believe that she tried to cut it off and he became enraged. They fought and in the middle of the fight, Daniel's wife, Elizabeta, and his son, William, came home. This caused a much bigger fight and sometime during the dispute Daniel may have attacked either his wife or yours first. In the end, he killed both his family and yours. After he realized what he'd done, he set his house on fire and stayed inside to die with them. I'm so sorry for your loss, sir."

Randy had to force back a laugh. This seemed too stupid and unbelievable. Instead of laughing, Randy put on a face of sadness and asked, "My wife and daughter are dead? Oh my G.o.d, no." He managed to scrounge up some tears for his charade. "Iacan I see their bodies?"

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Barcer. There's not much left, I'm afraid, the coroner had to use dental records to identify the bodies. Nothing really but ash remains. I'm really sorry to have to tell you this." The cop's face was morose.

Randy fell back into the house, putting on a well-played show of sadness. He forced himself to cry more false tears, all the while laughing on the inside.

Whoever that man had been, he was good.

The policeman put a gentle hand onto Randy's shoulder to console him and told him once again how sorry he was. The cop left soon after that, leaving Randy behind him after giving him the numbers for any questions he may have.

Randy closed and locked the front door and immediately started laughing; he just couldn't hold it in anymore. Somehow the entire situation just seemed so humorous.

"What's so funny, Rand'?" The quiet voice came from behind him. Randy turned to see the man sitting in his leather recliner, his wide eyes staring right into his.

The smile the man had usually worn was gone.

"Who are you?" Randy replied, not expecting an answer.

"The names Walter. My father told me about you a few months ago."

"Your father?"

"Yes, that's right. You may not believe this but I'm your brother."

"My brother?"

"Once again, yes."

"What do you want with me? Why are you doing all this?"

"It's simple, Rand' ole pal. I want to compete with you. It's already obvious that I'm the better killer in the family, especially considering that I killed dad and a whole lot more as well."

"You killed dad? Why?"

Walter shrugged. "I felt like it. I like to do things I want to do."

"You're sick."

"You're the last person in the world to call me that. After what you did to your own family," Walter grinned.

"How'd you know how to find me? How do you know anything about me?"

"I've been watching you for a while now. I watched you when you attacked and killed your wife and daughter. You really should trim back those bushes around the house; they're perfect for someone to hide in."

"What do you mean compete?"

"Simple, Rand' ole chum. Now pay attention, *cause I'm only gonna say this once. I'll give you a name or two and where to find them and we see which one of us can get to them first."

"That's unfair."

"It's the rules. Don't worry, I won't cheat."

"What happens if I win?"

"Then I'll leave you alone. But if I win..." Walter trailed off for a second, glancing outside the window. He looked back at Randy who stood patiently and continued. "Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

Walter stood up and walked over to Randy until the two were standing face to face.

"There are two girls. Twins actually, named Jeanne and Jenn," Walter said. "They're going to see a movie tonight with their boyfriends. Now remember, this is only a test run, mind you." He turned to leave but before he exited the house, he paused and turned back to Randy and said, "I suggest you start looking for them at the theaters closest to here. Good luck."

With Randy standing with his mouth hanging open, Walter left, closing the door behind him.

Chapter 3.

West End Theater was located in the middle of town. It wasn't as close as Caruthers Coffee so Randy had to drive. It took him a little more than an hour to get to West End. When he was finally pulling into the parking lot, the sun was already going down.

Night time was coming closer and Randy didn't know what the girls looked like or even what specific time they would be arriving. Nor did he know what movie they were going to see. As far as Randy could tell, there was nothing good playing. Just a couple of teenie-bopper pg-13 horror movies, an animated knock-off of some animated movie, and some stupid comedy about stoners. Just your everyday usual stuff, nothing really worth any money.

Randy sat in his car for a few minutes, watching the few customers walking into the theater. The theater itself was aged and decrepit. It looked like something straight out of a horror movie. The paint on the brick walls was peeling off and the gla.s.s doors were covered with a thin layer of dust.

Someone had thrown up on the outside sidewalk and there was some sort of fungus growing between the cracks. All this Randy noticed as he left his car and walked towards the gla.s.s front doors. He was here once before when he was a kid.

He and his mother had taken a day to go and see a movie. The movie, Randy remembered, was actually quite good. It was a movie about aliens. He just couldn't remember the name of it.

In his head, Randy went back to those days of such bliss, when everything seemed to go so right. Somehow, everything seemed to be her fault. It was his beautiful mother who had somehow started all this.

Laughter. A girl's laughter. No, the laughter of two girls which was quickly followed by the laughter of two guys. The laughs and guffaws were coming from somewhere around the theater. It wasn't loud, but it wasn't quiet either. Randy turned to follow the laughter, his hand sliding down into his coat pocket and around the handle of the knife hidden within. The laughter was coming from around the side of the theater. The first thing Randy noticed as he neared the corner was the pungent smell of marijuana. A cloud of smoke rolled around the corner to dissipate into nothing on the wind. Randy put his back against the wall and peered around the corner.

My G.o.d what he saw there was frightening. The twins and their boyfriends stood huddled in a group, pa.s.sing a joint between them. The twins were the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. They were both tall, thin blondes, their bodies shaped perfectly and their skin smooth and s.h.i.+ny; absolutely flawless. Their blue eyes, although red and watered from the pot they were smoking, were simply stunning. The two boys were just your average high school kids.

Football jackets worn and faded and thick blue jeans covered what were possibly muscular bodies. They both wore baseball hats that were turned backwards. Their faces looked as if no facial hair would ever erupt from the pores of their skin.

Yet, none of this frightened Randy. It was the fifth person that frightened Randy.

Walter stood close to the huddled group, a thick, yet fake smile covering his face.

Almost as if he heard Randy's thoughts, he looked up and saw Randy. He winked and moved his hand inside his trench coat.

Backing up, Walter withdrew a crowbar. He raised it above the closest boy's head, the hooked end pointing downwards. With a quick slash, he brought the crowbar down to the back of the kid's head, the hook splitting through the skull. The kids all turned and looked at Walter, too shocked yet to do anything but stare.

But then, like a light switch had been flicked, they started to scream and turned to run away. As they dashed for the street, Randy turned the corner and blocked their path. He withdrew the knife and came towards the second boy. He looked quickly at the twins who were kneeling on the ground now, holding each other and crying. One of them started p.i.s.sing her pants and the other followed closely behind her sister.

Randy looked at the boy who had stopped screaming. He wasn't moving and something was poking through his chest. It took Randy a moment to realize it was the other end of the crowbar that had been plunged through his torso from behind. Walter stood behind the boy, his face expressionless. He withdrew the crowbar and turned to look at the girls as did Randy.

Randy looked back at Walter and then back at the girls. He put the knife back into his pocket and screamed, "Quickly! Come with me!" The girls looked at him questioningly wondering if they could trust him. Walter was now moving closer to the girls with no rush, as if he didn't care.

"Come on," Randy said. "This guy's going to kill you! You'll be safe with me!"

The two girls stood up and followed him. He turned and ran, looking back to make sure they were still behind him. They finally reached his car and he got in, unlocking the doors as he did so. The twins got into the back, still shaking and crying. They closed the car doors behind them and Randy started the car.

As he was leaving, he noticed Walter who still stood beside the theater. He was smiling at him, but Randy couldn't tell if it was a fake or real smile. This guy either hated Randy or he just didn't care either way. For some reason, Randy had the feeling that all of this was just fun for Walter.

He drove out of the parking lot of the theater, speeding down the road and away from the horror of it all. Randy smiled; he had what he wanted. With a glimmer in his eyes, he looked into the rearview mirror at the two shaking girls. If anyone was going to ruin their perfect bodies it was going to be him.

With a smile on his face he couldn't wipe off if he wanted to, he drove home with his two new charges, who were still holding each other and crying softly in the backseat.

It was nice and dark when Randy pulled into his driveway. The neighbor's lights were off so everyone around him was in bed with no troubles or nightmares to plague their sleep. One of the girls finally began to speak, "Where are we?"

Randy turned and looked back at them, smiling as he said, "Safe. Don't worry, he won't find us here."

The two looked at each other in worry. Randy kept on, "Don't worry, I want to help you."

He got out of the car and they followed closely behind him as he walked onto the porch. He opened the front door and held it open for them. They silently and slowly walked inside. He followed them, closing the front door as he did so. Their backs were facing him, giving him the perfect chance. He grabbed the closest thing to him which happened to be a ceramic vase on the small table by the door. He gripped it tightly and quickly ran up behind the twins.

He brought the vase up and then down upon the first girl's head with a loud crash. The vase broke into a dozen pieces and fell to the floor, as did the girl's body. The other girl turned to look at him, her eyes wide with fright. He grabbed her tightly by her waist and said, "If you want you and your sister to live, you'll do exactly as I say."

She started crying again, realizing she'd been tricked. Her head nodded okay as she closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Randy smiled and led her into his bedroom. "Strip and lie down."

She did as she was told, crying all the while. Her hands lifted her s.h.i.+rt off, revealing pure, silky smooth skin. She wore a black bra.

"Take it off," he told her while licking his lips.

Once again, she followed his command. She reached behind her and unsnapped the bra. The straps slid down her arms and she dropped it to the floor. He heard the footsteps coming up behind him. He turned quickly and caught the other twin by the throat. The half naked one started to run at him as well. He easily grabbed her by the throat, too.