Story Jots # 11 (b) – Red Door, Blue Cadillac, And A Murder

Here’s where this story began…CLICK HERE!

Friday was gone. Saturday was coming up with the sun, and Ryan had still not been asleep. His acute insomnia was expected after he travelled. Triggered by past traumas. Any variance in his life could bring on his curse of no bedtime, sometimes it’s a week before he feels any sign of tiredness. It’s three days into his house swap, one of those life variances that was suggested by his sister, Laura. She has been telling him forever how it would be a good idea for her brother to get away for an extended period of time. To see and to get to experience another part of the country. A difference in atmosphere could be exactly what Ryan needed. An opportunity to leave that place behind for a bit. It’s been long enough with those bad memories. It’s time to heal.

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Story Jots # 12 – Signal Red

I’m bitten…

I will become one of them any minute. It can’t end like this. I promised. That day he took them from me. That monster, Roșu. I called him Red. He was the first one and started all of this. I called him that because it was all I could see when I thought of him. And it was all he wanted. Nothing, but red. Red everywhere. To feed his parasitic reign. An eternal starvation for existence and undying life sustained by the veins of human prey. Prey fooled by his dark fluence of sultry words and reverie. Like it did when he stole my family. It was his bloody thirst that started this hunt. Started my journey to find and destroy him. But, now I need him. I must stay alive a little longer. I have to signal Red. For a choice. A choice my loving husband and dear daughter never had. If he gives me that choice, it could be my last chance.

to be continued

Story Jots # 11 (a) – Red Door, Blue Cadillac

Well, we’re home. This is me. 

Hey, sweetie. You awake? 

Oh, right. Of course, you’re not. You had that last drink now, didn’t you? With a little something extra from me. I knew you couldn’t say no. None of you do. My looks are a curse, I swear. Anyway, let’s go in… shall we? 

A man lifts a young woman out of his blue Cadillac and shuffles her half-limp body along with the weight of his own toward the front door of his house. She is wearing a short black dress that sparkled each time a streetlight caught her sequins a certain way. She was semi-conscious. She had no shoes, no purse, no phone, and because her makeup had long melted away you could tell she was half the age of the man she was now draped over. With her petite frame shifting over his shoulder with a step, her head drifts next to his. The man smiles and whispers something into her exposed ear.  

Continue reading “Story Jots # 11 (a) – Red Door, Blue Cadillac”

So Long, it’s Killing Me Too – The Red Journal

Hey everyone,

It excites me to write that I have something coming down the pipeline with regards to my series “The Red Journal”. I hit a wall with this project an embarrassing long time ago on account of losing my confidence in the story. But, short and sweet, and no bullsh*t excuses. The Red Journal is back in my “works in progress”.

Also, I’m planning a relaunch of the designated page to get everyone up to speed and on the same well…page. So, hang tight, and soon enough we will all be getting another chance to delve back into the lives of Det. Sarah Wilson, Det. Ethan Frost, supporting cast, and the still unknown killer. Someone who has taken quite the shine to Det. Wilson and there is not one single clue to determine why.

Stay tuned for the next chapter in my killer story that’s literally “in the making”. As in, I am making it up as I go…

Story Jots # 5 – Serial Number

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The body was easy to move from the place to the car to the boat. As it always is. Premeditation is kind of my thing. I have done this same routine maybe a hundred times. No, I believe it is a hundred and six times. Yeah, a hundred and six. You know, blondes are my favourite of all the women. Slightly more gullible. Usually more attractive. All of them walking by themselves late at night. Coming from their restaurant shifts, drunken bachelorette parties, or on their way to an ex-boyfriend. Then, I would present myself to these tired, these tipsy, and these texting specimens. Most nights, it is an unlit cigarette in poor lighting that works effortlessly. Cliché I know. Although, there were times I would fake a bleeding lip on this fragile face of mine. It was easy with these ladies the way I look. Always so helpful they are. But now I am bored. Unmotivated. No more of this killing racket. I am done. Finished. The girls just do not seem to fight back anymore anyway. Shall I leave a clue? Maybe allow one to getaway? Hmmm. Better yet! How about this one? Number 107. I mean, after all of that and you, my pretty blonde lady…are still breathing.

The Black Journal – (Take-Away)

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If not up to date, please visit The Red/Black Journal Page

Friday, 9:45 P.M.

Ethan’s driver-side door crunched and creaked as it slammed shut. He was home. Another long day of chasing a killer without so much as a single clue of who it might be. Zero answers, just more questions. Questions, that for now had to wait. The only thing on his mind was finally getting to see his beautiful wife, Susan. Take one look at her and no matter how bad of a day he was having, she’d quickly make all go away. A hot shower and some food wouldn’t go astray either.

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Buffering – What’s Next, Who’s Next?

Hey peeps,

I thought it was necessary to give my awesome followers a fair warning that something’s coming. Something very overdue. So, my friends, later tonight or 100% tomorrow we will all get another glimpse into the world of The Red Journal. I have been hemming and hawing internally for too long creatively. It’s time for all of us to see who’s been doing all the killing in Jamestown and what Jamestown’s finest will do about it.

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The Black Journal – (Break Room, Over Lunch)

Friday, 5:40 p.m. 
(Ethan and Sarah come up short with their first visit to The Keep. They decide to spend most of the afternoon going over the witness statements from the bar and various other items of interest scattered in a brown file on a lunchroom table)

Awfully quiet, how’s your Chinese food? 

What? Oh, ah…it’s good, it’s good. 

Is that right? Well, you wouldn’t say that by what’s left there on your plate. Sarah, you’ve haven’t eaten a thing. You’re not still mad at me, are you? 

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The Black Journal – (Pulled up in front of The Keep)

(Shortly after the briefing, Ethan and Sarah find themselves downtown at the bar, The Keep, the victims last known whereabouts and the potential for video evidence. As they slowly exit their vehicle, a homeless man suddenly appears from the alley motioning toward the door.) 

Friday, 9:46 A.M.

It’s closed! 

Excuse me? 

The bar, it’s closed. Not open yet, doesn’t til six. It’s written right there on that sign. 

Right, thanks for pointing that out. 
Listen, I’m Det. Frost and this is Det. Wilson.  
Jamestown Police Department. 
Tell me…ah, is that yours? Around the corner over there? Do you live in those boxes by the dumpster? 

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The Black Journal – Chief’s Office, Over Coffee, Pre-Briefing

Friday, 8:05 A.M.

Good morning, Det. Frost…coffee?

Morning chief, sure, thanks.

Frost, I didn’t sleep very well last night. Do you know why that is?

Why is that chief? Go ahead and enlighten me.

It’s because of our latest homicide case. It’s gone and made my damn ulcer act up again. It bloody well kept me up most of the night. Frost, this guy’s sending a clear message here, but who the hell is it for?

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