The Devils Print- Part 6.2.3-Stalking the Prey-Wednesday

The Devils Print- Part 6.2.3-Stalking the Prey-Wednesday

A Chapter by siri


It was hard for me to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I got flashbacks of the bum I killed, and the flashback provoked thoughts. I felt black and white like two different people, and the turning point was the night I took that man's life. The Adam J Richardson before that night died. The one that was getting married, the one with the successful job, the nice guy who, although it annoyed the s**t out of me, tried to do his good deeds for the world all died and disappeared. Maybe he was somewhere inside, but, as of the moment, he was completely comatose. The present Adam J Richardson was a killer. He was oblivious to what the f**k was good and bad. He just was, and what he was was the devil's bounty hunter. Life escaped me. I had plans, plans to be normal? I had plans to own an awesome house, have a gorgeous wife, and make beautiful babies. The only plan I could think of recently was the perfect way to kill. I am not crazy though. This is all for balance, this is for the devil, this all WAS good.


MY conscience still slips out every now and then. Maybe that means I am still human? I had to try to sleep. I closed my eyes, and this time I saw flashes of mutilated woman. They were young girls actually, and they were all dead. I am human! I am good! I will make this f****r pay. I couldn't sleep there is no way I could sleep. I looked at my clock and it read 5:13 AM I have been laying here awake for a long time. I need to get my mind off of everything. It is so much easier to just do and not think. I cant start drinking already...can I? No! I have work to do. I need my mind working perfectly. Pshhhh. That's funny. My mind is fucked up, but i need to be able to concentrate still.

I got out of bed. I might as well get up. I took a long shower before doing my morning routine. Hey my routine never changed. I guess somethings just don't. I got in my car and drove to my stalking parking spot and waited. Bill's house was quite his SUV parked outside. Let's see how original today will be. I hope it will be different. I was f*****g bored.


What do you want?

"You don't need sleep or what?"

I am sleeping right now. It is lucid though. I am still awake while I am sleeping. It is just a way to replenish myself.

"Oh. Well I guess i don't even want to talk to you so f**k off."

HMMMMM. He will be out earlier today. He likes money.

I Just ignored him I was too busy thinking. He made lousy conversation anyways. He is always right though. Bill was up early. It was 7 and the house lit up. He finally left at 8 and guess where I fallowed him to. The f*****g bar! The same bar too. He was the only car in the parking lot so I didn't pull in and park. I slowly drove by and saw him use keys to open up the doors to the bar. so the f****r worked at the bar. That would explain how he knew everyone and his access behind the counter, but if he spent his days off at the bar where does he make the money for that house of his. There is no f*****g way he can afford that s**t with a salary of a bartenders. The bar must be the hot spot. I am guessing 50% or more of the customers are associated with what ever black market business is conducted there.

I drove a couple blocks  looking for a spot to make a U-turn. Who opens a bar at 8 in the morning? How the F**K does he afford his house. Who is this mother f****r REALLY?  besides a psychopath rapist and murderer... I already know that much. Questions kept breathing to life in my mind and when I drove back past the bar it seemed some of my questions may in fact get answers. The bar widows were blacked out; there was no way of seeing what was going on inside. The parking lot to the bar had four more cars in it. All four cars were extremely nice ones, and they all had their own drivers. The drivers were all watching...everywhere. I will not be able to drive past the bar again with out being noticed. I made sure to notice the two license plate  numbers that I could actually see.

7DK-489 2T9-F32 7DK-489 2T9-F32 7DK-489 2T9-F32. I repeated the two numbers in my head over and over again. I needed to write the damn numbers down before I forgot them. 7DK-489 2T9-F32 7DK-489 2T9-F32 7DK-489 2T9-F32. I pulled in to the first gas station that I crossed paths with. I searched my car for a pen and paper. 7DK-489 2T9-F32 7DK-489 2T9-F32 7DK-489 2T9-F32. Where the hell was a pen and paper when you actually needed it. I found a pencil that was broken in half and pulled out a receipt from my wallet 7DK-489 2T9-F32 7DK-489 2T9-F3 27DK-489 2T9-F32. I needed to figure out a way to get this  pencil sharpened enough to work. I opened up my door and searched the ground for something. I finally found an old soda can. I stabbed it with my pencil and used the big whole to rip it and half and make a a crappy tin knife. I sliced of slivers of wood from the pencil until it became usable to write with.

7DK-489 2T9-F32

I wrote the numbers down and stuffed the paper back into my wallet. Now what? I can't go back to the bar. I need to use this time wisely. I guess the best thing is to find the owners of these cars. Public records  should have the answers I am looking for. The gas station I was parked at had a pay phone as well as a phone book. I guess I would start there. I got out of my car and headed to the pay phone. I searched the phone-book for government offices. When I found what I was looking for I ripped out the page with the public records office address and number. The office was located downtown, and I was about ten minutes away.

Inside the public records office there was a cute young lady behind the reception desk.
She greeted me in a happy overly cheerful way, "Good morning sir! How are you doing today?"
"Well, so far so good. How is your day going ma'am?" I replied.
"That's good to hear. I am doing good. Thanks for asking. What can I do for you?" she responded.
Haha the girl had a nice job, but I couldn't help but notice the grammatically incorrect response to my how are you question. It seems everyone answers with the word good instead of well. I guess grammar isn't all that it used to be.
It took me a second but while I fumbled for my wallet to pull out the paper I responded, "Well I hope you can help me I am a private investigator and I need to locate the owners of the vehicles with these two plate numbers. Do you think  you could do this for me?" I handed her the paper with the two plate numbers on it.
She took the paper and copied the number down onto a sticky note on her desk and responded, "Okay sir, this is how this works. You need to submit a request for public records form, and within 15 days you will get a letter stating that you may come back to this office and view your records. If you would like a physical copy there will be a charge. the charge will not be outrageous, just about 20 cents per page. If for some reason we are unable to retrieve your records the letter that you receive in the mail will explain in full detail the reasons. Would you like the paperwork to get started?"
Wow I wonder how long it took her to memorize that. I thought about this for a second. F****n stupid government procedures always making life so f****n difficult.  I do understand the need for protocols, so I will have to deal with this s**t.

Adam don't forget your a murderer. Your identity MUST stay hidden. You cant fill out that paper
. It will link your request  to your name and address. The owners of the car would have all the info they need to start tracking you. This is bad news get the f**k out of here.

" Yeah I know this, Shut up" I mumbled under my breath
The girl responded to my mumble to the Voice,"What's that sir I couldn't hear you?"
Damn I must seem crazy. The receptionist was looking at me like I was too.
I said, "No that is okay ma'am. I simply just can not wait 15 days. I am sorry for the hassle."
as she gave me back my piece of paper she said, "There is no hassle at all sir. I am sorry I couldn't have been of more service, but you understand I got to fallow protocol. Here is your piece of paper, and you have a wonderful day!"

I had to get out of this place it felt like people were looking at me and that creeped me out. I needed to get to my nice safe car, where everything was all me and I could work on what to do next.

HaHa they think your crazy just like you thought the bum was crazy, and then you killed the bum, and now you basically are the bum. Ha ha

"This doesn't work. you talking to me in public just doesn't f*****g work" I told the voice while pulling my hair and walking out the door.


Miss Lucinda Packers sat at her reception desk watching the weird man talk to himself as he walked out the building.  She wasn't as much scared of the guy and she was confused. She wondered why some people tend to go crazy and some people don't. I guess psychology answers those kinds of questions she thought. Lucinda Packers  went to law school and after 4 years of college partying and the massive amounts of homework and learning she finally got her degree. A lot of good that did her she didn't turn out to be some big shot lawyer. She couldn't even get an internship with a big shot lawyer, or even a reception job for one. Instead she wasted four years of her life to become the receptionist at the city's public records office.  She was told from the beginning of her career with the public records office that if any one comes in for records of license plates that it was very important  to check the plate numbers with all the plate number on this one page she had. If there was a match, she was to call her boss immediately, whether he be in the office or even on vacation. Her entire two years of working at the place and she had never had a match. She figured she never would. There were thousands of registered plates out there, and the paper she had was only a list of a 100 or 200 or maybe even a tiny bit more. This was why she was so surprised to find both of the plate numbers that man handed her both matched numbers on her list. She almost forget what to do if she found a match it had been so long. She eventually remembered and picked up her phone and called her boss.

"Hello?"  came a deep voice  of Lucinda Packers boss on the other end of the phone.
"Hey there Mr. Freedmon. This is Lucinda Packers the receptionist at the public records office."
"Yes what can I do for you Miss Packers?" Mr. Freedmon asked.
"Well sir, This really weird guy came in here asking for the records on these two license plate numbers. I wrote down the numbers and they both match plate numbers on the list you gave me."
"You did good calling me so shortly. I appreciate that did the man give you his name? Did he fill out the request form and what were the plates he was inquiring about?"
"He didn't give me his name or fill out the request form the plate numbers are...You ready? you got a pen handy?"
"Yeah I am ready."
"Okay, the numbers are 7DK-489 and 2T9-F32. he was a weirdo Mr. Freedmon. literally like loco en la cabesa."
"Thanks Miss Packers. Listen if he comes back in there you tell him to hold and you call me right away okay? I got to go. Have a good afternoon."
"Okay, you do the same Mr." Lucinda didn't bother finishing her statement she realized her boss had hung up on her. As she hung up the phone another civilian walked in the door. It never ends she thought and got ready to repeat the Request for records procedure she said a hundred times a day.


That was a waste of my f*****g time. It got me no where going into the public records office. It wasn't even noon yet. I can't risk going back to the bar just yet. Where could I get the info about these plate numbers? The DMV obviously has records on ever vehicle. I f****n hate the DMV. It was always packed. Every time I go there it always ends up a waste of time anyways. They probably would have some reason to not give me the information I need anyways. I guess the only other place would be the police station? They can probably tap into the DMV database. The real question is if it is smart for me to go there. I did kill a man. I could walk right into a jail cell if I wasn't careful. If I haven't heard anything about the murder from the cops by now, they most likely do not even have a lead. I guess the police station will be my next stop.

I started my car and headed to the police station. I love how everything is downtown and conveniently located to where I was at the moment. Ten minutes later I arrived at my destination.

I walked into a building swarming with cops. I wonder if there is a queen cop or something. I even thought I heard buzzing sounds. I hate bees they scare the s**t out of me, and so did this police station. There was another girl  behind the reception desk. There was always a lady to do the greetings. I wonder why the whole secretary job always seemed to be such a feminine position. I already had my paper handy

You are a f****n idiot Adam. Why are you in a f****n police station. Look everyone is looking at you.

"Shut up no talking to me in public remember! Everyone is looking at everyone. Stop trying to make me paranoid" I responded to the voice with a whispered mumble."

I walked up to the reception desk. This time the greeting from the woman had a "I hate my job" tone to it as she spoke to me, "Hello sir, what can I do for you?"

F**k Adam you should have come prepared, I thought to my self. You don't even have a story for this one yet.

Yes I got in a car accident. And the driver made a hit and run. I was parked parallel, and this car rammed me from the back into the car in front of me. I did get his license plate number as well as the cars in front of me. can you tell me the owners information so I can contact both of them? Here are the plate numbers." I handed her the receipt with the plate numbers on it. As I did this, a guy dressed up quite nicely stepped up to the right of me and  talked to the receptionist.

"Good ... I guess its still morning right? Good morning Angela." He said
"Morning Detective Brule. How is your day going? The dead bodies aren't getting to you yet?" Angela the receptionist replied still with the "f**k my life " tone.
F**k Adam you walked right into the lions den. This guy is a homicide detective. He can probably smell a murderer from a mile away.
"Please Just call me Jeff okay? Anyways I am good." He chuckled and continued, "The first dead body still hasn't stopped f*****g with. Remind me why I took this job again? Oh yeah to catch the mother fuckers.   Look I know you rarely take messages for me but I thought I would ask anyways." Jeff Brule returned in response
Angela replied, "Okay Jeff, I forget you are one of the ones that hate getting called MR. and such. And no I don't have any messages for you. Are you expecting something?"

The detective was talking about people like me. I am the mother f****r he tries hard to catch. I all of a sudden got extremely uncomfortable and hot.

"No nothing in particular not sure why I even asked. Well, I am working on this big case, so I better get going. Have a good day Angela!" As detective  Brule  turned to leave, he first turned to me and looked me up and down. I got the shivers but gave him a smile in return, which is what I got back from him.

"I'm sorry sir. Where were we?" Angela said, speaking to me this time. "Oh yeah, well normally we have to fill out TONS of paperwork, but I am almost off work, having one of those days, and I really hate paperwork. I am going to skip that step, so I can get out of here."

"Okay I'm sorry, I hope your day gets better." I said trying to seem sympathetic.

"It will be dear, once I get out of this building, Hmmmm it seems those are bogus plates I don't see any registration for them... even going back 50 years. I'll flag the numbers, but that is more for our convenience . There is nothing I can do for you. I'm sorry. I can make sure you get a phone call if we ever catch the drivers. Would you like to leave your information?"

"No. It is okay ma'am. My insurance will cover my damage. Just trying to be the good person and help out the other car you know? Thanks for trying to help me though. You have fun once you get off work." I said in return.

"Okay sweety, Sorry we couldn't be of more help to you."

I needed to get out of the police station. This was a waste of time too, but I felt extremely uncomfortable inside this building. It did give me a boost of confidence somewhat. I at least knew I was in the clear. No body knew I killed a man, or I am positive at least that homicide detective would have recognized me.

I got back to my car, got inside, and took an extremely huge deep breath. I just sat there for a while. I had no idea what to do next. I felt safe in here though. People were starting to get to me. It felt like somehow I produced a glow that people could see. A glow that showed I was a murderer. I know I am probably just thinking to much, but since the devil mentioned people were looking at me, it seemed like everyone WAS looking at me. It seemed that they weren't just looking at me, but inside me somehow. What the f**k is happening to me.

I decided to get some lunch and then head back to the bar. The regular bar cover up should be open by that time.

The bar was open and back in business. I parked my car and started the peeping. I parked while a couple other customers got there at the same time. When all the customers got out of there cars there was one guy that caught my attention. This skinny white bald guy with glasses. He looked like a nerd, and for some reason he didn't seem like he belonged with the rest of the crowd inside this bar. I decided to keep extra attention on him.

My instincts have never failed me. The man went into the bar and never even ordered a drink. Who goes to a bar and doesn't order at least one drink. My instincts told me he would answer all my questions. The only person that has never let me down was me, and I am not going to let that happen now. I waited for the man to leave and fallowed my new pray. I hope it didn't come down to torture.

I fallowed him to his house. This guy's house was crap. I felt bad for the guy. Once he went inside I waited ten minutes before I decided to get out of my car. I started whistle as I walked cheerfully to his front door. I rung the doorbell and gave the door a little tap. I didn't really have a plan, but going with the flow has seemed to work so far. My first objective was to get inside the house. this would be easy.

The second the door started to open I shoved it open, let myself in and closed it behind me.

"Hey man that's" the guy started to say before I interrupted him.

I shoved my left forearm under his neck and pinned him against the nearest wall and said, "Shut the f**k up. If you speak without first being spoken to I'll kill you. If you scream I kill you. If you attempt to f**k with me in any f****n way, I will f****n kill you. Do you got that?"

The man was so scared he didn't even answer me. He was starting to shake and he looked everywhere but me. I had to make sure he understood so I said again, "Hey mother f****r look at me when I am talking to you." once he looked at me I finished, "Do you understand what I just said?" He shook his head. "Good. Now you have something I need." I stopped pressing so hard on his neck.

"I d d don't have the money right n n now. I c can get it though. I will get it to you." He stammered.

"What?  No man. I don't want your money. I just need some answers." I said.

"Okay whatever you want." he said a little calmer. He shrugged with relief.

"Why were you at that bar and didn't even order a drink? What were you doing there?" I asked.

"That's it? I'm not in any trouble?" He asked

"You will be if you don't answer my f****n question!" I threatened

"Okay okay okay. The bartender he is my bookie. I don't drink man. That's just where I make my bets." He said.

"That's all I needed to. You gotta stop that s**t though your a duck waving at a gun." I said and walked out the door and back to my car.

There is my answer. That's how he gets the money. I wonder who he works for. They must of been the people at the meeting in the morning. Well that takes care of today. I drove myself back home.

Back at my house. I took the belladonna berries I saved and smashed them into juice. I put the juice in a small vile. It all came down to this. Tomorrow this man will die.

© 2010 siri

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Added on March 21, 2010
Last Updated on August 7, 2010
Tags: devil death blood detective mafi



Albuquerque, NM

boom boom boom la la la la la hey you! yeah you! Im pointing at you now... ... i guess some part of me is always gonna be pointing at you...or the other person thats reading this...until of cours.. more..

flash 1 flash 1

A Chapter by siri

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A Chapter by siri