The Stalker at Dawn

At 8:15am, Ivan Yates woke up with a lump in his throat. He thought it odd, and tried to be rid of it for a while, before eventually becoming used to it. At 7:27pm, he got in his truck and left work, unease accompanying during the drive home. By 9:45pm he had eaten without tasting, watched his programs without seeing, and somewhere along the way exhaustion had washed over him. He was in bed and asleep before 10:05. The sleep he fell into was deep, uninterrupted by dreams or tossing and turning. But at 3:18am his eyes flew open and were immediately drawn to the figure that stood at his door. "F**K", Ivan exclaimed breathlessly, sitting up. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see inhumanly large yellow-grey eyes staring back at him. He noticed something new with every second that he gawked at this figure. For instance, apart from the dimly glowing eyes, he saw no other facial features. Not only that, but there was nothing in the place where arms should have been. Though there were legs, they resembled the hind legs of a fawn, only much bigger. The frame of this thing was outlined by thick fur-like bristles and it appeared to be vibrating softly, rhythmically. It did nothing when Ivan had moved, it simply stared at him patiently. His eyes shifted between the clock, 3:20am, then quickly back to the figure. He didn't feel a trace of sleep in his whole body, but he couldn't fathom that what he was seeing could possibly be real. Not knowing what to do, he thought to himself, "what is this thing?". 

'Part of you', the words echo in his mind, filling him with a fresh dose of unease. Ivan spoke again, "Did it just answer my thought?", his voice trembling a bit on the last word. Silence. Curious, he thought to himself again, "What do you want?" 

'What do YOU want?', the mouthless voice replied. Not bothering to speak anymore, Ivan retorts, "Right now I want to wake up from this weird a*s dream and continue my rest", a tinge of annoyance coloring his thoughts. The figure shook its head slowly in response. Suddenly, a wave of red pulsated through his body, causing him to rock backward. "What the f**k was that?!", Ivan wondered concernedly. He wasn't sure how something without a mouth could smile, but that was exactly what it was doing. It's question to him reverberated through his mind once more, 'What do YOU want?', seduction dripping from the words. Before he could answer, images of bloodied weapons and battered corpses flash through his mind and his head begins to pound. "AHG, what's going on", Ivan cried out. The voice attempts to sooth him, 'Its coming back to you'. Brief aggravated confusion rolls through him, followed by more red tinted images. He see's visions of himself, naked and bloody, laughing over a mangled corpse. "Stop putting this s**t in my head!! Who are you?!", Ivan thought angrily. 'What you see are your memories alone. As I said, I am part of you", the voice reassured. "That's bullshit!", Ivan screamed, rushing to tackle the figure but colliding with nothing. It was gone, a key and a golden object sat on the floor in place of where it stood. Breathing heavily, Ivan bent to pick the strange object up. Upon touching it, he sees in his mind the violent ways it has been used, and he dropped it immediately. Reluctantly, he picked up the key and his imagination pictured a place he had never seen before, a building. Brand new questions formulate in his mind, but looking around the room, he sees no evidence of the creature. Deciding that he couldn't just let this go, he put on a jacket and his shoes and was out the door by 3:33am. 

He was driving without even thinking about it, and at 3:50am he found himself before the very building that he had seen in his head. He had no way of knowing how to get there, but now that he thought of it, it felt as if he was being pulled here by magnets. He stepped out of his car and began walking towards the seemingly abandoned building. Just before he reached the door, the figure appeared. The two exchanged nothing, Ivan walked past his odd informant and took the key from his pocket. Amazingly, it fit in the lock perfectly. "What in the f**k is going on", he mumbled under his breath. It was dark as he stepped inside, but there was a large switch on the wall that he flipped up, causing the lights to flicker on. The hum they generated was the only noise he could hear aside from his own footsteps. He walked down the narrow, industrial looking corridor, until he reached another door. 

He pushed it open and was terrified by what he saw. Dozens of foreign instruments (including the heavy golden object he'd seen earlier) were strewn across a long table, some hung crudely from hooks attached to the ceiling. This room had the unmistakable and overpowering smell of blood and bleach. On the wall to his left, there was a list of maybe 40 names. By each name, was a description of a random object, 'Ronda Howard, pink compact mirror', 'Terra Long, engraved wedding band', and so on. He was so distracted by everything he was seeing, that he had not even realized a new sound being made. Muffled grunts and the sound of someone sniffling could be heard from behind a curtain at the far corner of the room. Ivan's heart began to race and he contemplated turning back and running to alert the police, but something bade him closer. He took a few steps forward, pausing to look at the figure who was by his side. Strangely, it now provided him with a level of comfort. He proceeded until he was directly in front of the curtain, the noise had stopped. Slowly, he lifted his hand, gripping the material in his fist and hesitating a split moment before yanking it open. Tightly bound, laying naked on an operating table, was a young woman with fiery red hair. And when he saw her face, Ivan Yates suddenly remembered everything. 

Rebecca Thorn had been independent since the time she was 8. Her ambitious nature and knack for being fearless is how she wound up as Milwaukee's best homicide detective. But for the past 4 years, her city had been subjected to some of the worst serial killings she had seen in her entire career. During the middle of each month, a young woman would go missing during the early morning, only to be found 3 days later. The state of the victims varied, some were badly beaten, their bones broken causing their limbs to contort in grotesque fashion. Others had deep lacerations all over their bodies. But all of them had been raped, and the cause of death was always blunt force trauma to the head. Over the years, the killer was given the nickname 'The Stalker at Dawn" Last month, on the day the most recent victim went missing, Rebecca received an anonymous tip. The witness claimed to have seen a man shoving a woman into the cab of his truck just after 6am. It was because of this tip, that Rebecca had gone undercover, walking in that area every morning this month.  It was because of that decision that she was now looking into the face of her enemy. 

She had watched his expression  go from horror to sinister pleasure within seconds of him opening the curtain. This troubled her more than the abduction itself or being bound for days had, because it told her that he was no longer a man in control of himself. He was close enough to her now that she could see the watch on his wrist. It was 4:20am, October 11th 2016, making this the third day. She began to quietly calculate ways out of this situation, but was interrupted by Ivan's voice, 'You remember now, don't you Ivan?', she watched as he nodded to himself in response. The delusional dialogue continued, 'Now, for the last time, what do you want?' He took his eyes off of Rebecca and looked to his right intently for a few seconds, then back to her. This confused her at first but as she watched him move about the room, gathering tools and carrying on this one sided conversation, she realized that he was answering himself in his head. 

'With what would you like to start, Ivan?', Rebecca's eyes widened as he picked up a pair of industrial strength pliers. 'Very good, and where would you like to start?' Without a word he grabbed her right wrist firmly, forced her hand open, and clipped off her pinky finger. She cried out in pain, and as she sobbed she began to choke on the gag in her mouth. 'Oh, well don't get sloppy and let her choke to death'. Ivan looked at her blankly and removed the cloth from her mouth, being answered by gasps and wails of agony. 'That's better, now continue'. He brought the pliers to yet another one of her fingers and she screamed in horror, but was once again interrupted by his voice. Angrily this time, 'NO!! Can't you be more creative than that? Put those pliers down and think of something else'. He obeyed. Rebecca's breathing quickened as she watched the gears turn in his head. Suddenly he began untying her hands, causing the nub that was once her pinky to throb. Before she could stifle that pain, she was experiencing a new one. In one fluid motion, he brought her arm up over her head, and yanked it backward, bracing it against the table. She heard the ungodly snap before she felt the blinding excrutiation. 

The sound of his laughter was barely audible among her screams. 'Yes that's all well and good but why not try something new?' Ivan stared off to his right, with an expression of childlike confusion on his face. His head snapped forward once more, facing Rebecca again, 'I've got it. Let's exsanguinate her, then there will be lots of blood to play in', his dark side offered excitedly. Ivan sauntered catatonically to the other side of the room, retrieving a needle, an IV bag and a long rubber tube. Standing over her again he attached the tube to the bag and needle, automatically forcing the needle into her skin. She squirmed beneath him but he let her go to yell at himself more, 'NOOO!!! STRING HER UPSIDE DOWN FIRST OR YOU'LL WASTE IT ALL'. He stared off looking confused again, and Rebecca became aware of what was her last chance for survival. The pliers he had used to mutilate her were still on the table, next to her severed finger. Her one good arm darted out, grabbing the pliers and shoving them into his throat just before he could stop her. His eyes bulged and his hands grasped weakly at his neck. She pulled the tool free of his flesh and drove them into his stomach, then again into his crotch, ululating wildly all the while. His knees gave out and he fell to the floor, bleeding to death. Rebecca fell completely silent, laying back to catch her breath. She freed herself all remaining binds, slid down to the floor, and dug into his pockets to search for his phone. After making calls to the appropriate channels, she rested next to Ivan Yates' dead body. Realizing his blood was all over her hand, she began swirling it between her fingertips, a quiet smile spreading across her face.