Chapter 47 Horror
VICTORIA
My breath hitched, and I tried hard to get out of the grip of whoever was holding me, but the grip around my body was too tight, and I was too weak to fight him off.
“Let me go!" I screamed out, panicking that it might be the man. He must have hurt the woman and would soon cut us into pieces.
“Victoria, it's me, calm down.”
I found myself relaxing when I heard Mr Thompson's voice instead.
“Boss?" I whispered.
"Yes, it's me,” he whispered. I felt relief wash through my body and I sighed out, relaxing into his protective arms while waiting for my head to stop spinning.
He slowly helped me up to my feet and pulled me back from the table, his worried gaze fixed on me.
“Are you okay? What are you doing in such a place?" He whispered, rubbing my shoulders.
"I'm fine,” I whispered and ran my hand through my hair, sighing.
Mr Thompson turned around and stared at the room, his face twitching up in disgust.
“What in the world is this?" He asked, swinging his head around with eyes darkening.
“I don't know what to say. I thought it was just my mom, turns out…” I paused and sighed again, dropping to my knees in exhaustion.
I had found a finger inside a glass. I didn't know why I reacted that way towards it but I couldn't help it. The ring on the finger looked quite familiar but I just couldn't place where I had seen it.
“Are you okay?" The woman whispered as she squatted beside me while Mr Thompson examined the room.
“This is human blood!" He exclaimed in shock, staring at the blades lined up on the table.
I glanced up at the blades, and my throat knotted up.
“Who knows who he killed?" I whispered and clutched my belly.
The woman slapped her hand over her mouth and jerked up, running out of the house.
“I need to go out for some fresh air, or I'll puke as well," I whispered and got up, then bolted out of the room as puke surged up my throat.
I gasped loudly and inhaled as much fresh air as possible when I dropped down on the porch.
“How could he kill people that way without mercy?" The woman said after coming back from puking.
“Because he couldn't get my mom,” I muttered.
She swerved her head in my direction, her eyes darkening.
“There is no way he'd resort to killing innocent women just because your mother rejected him,” she muttered.
“He's a psychopath. A psychopath can do anything," I muttered and she sighed, nodding in agreement.
“You don't know why he behaved that way with your mom, do you?" She asked.
I shook my head.
"Perhaps, they dated and my mom left him. That's the only sensible thing I can make out," I muttered.
"There was someone I should have ended up with,” the woman began, forcing me to look back at her.
“Who?" I asked.
She looked towards the thicket and clenched her fist.
“Some guy from a first-class family. His mom rejected me because I was poor so we broke up. I moved on, fell in love again, and faced a crueler heartbreak.”
I gripped her hand and smiled at her while rubbing her knuckles.
“You'll be happy again, I promise," I said. She scoffed and shook her head.
“There is no one to do that for me," she said.
"Well… I'm here now,” I said and rubbed her shoulder.
Her lips turned up in amusement and she chuckled.
“Don't tell me you took the daughter thing seriously," she giggled.
My face flushed, and I smiled shyly.
“I believed it for a second," I muttered, and she grinned, poking my forehead.
“Was this why you screamed?" Mr Thompson's voice came up and I swung my head toward the door.
My stomach churned and my heart tightened in horror again when my eyes fell on the chopped finger inside the glass.
“Yes," I gulped.
He looked at me, surprise darting across his eyes.
“You've been changed a lot," he mumbled as he examined the glass.
"I remember you picking up a chopped finger at a crime scene, but now…” he trailed, looking up at me again.
I nodded my head in agreement that I had changed.
“It has been a long time since I did something like that, I'll get used to it soon,” I muttered, rubbing my neck as that sickening feeling returned.
“You'd better get used to it. You'll be seeing more horrifying ones soon," he said and my throat knotted.
My lips parted and slammed shut, words unable to slip out.
“What is he talking about?" The woman, confused.
I realized that she had been in the dark all this time.
“I'm a detective," I turned to her and said.
Her brows shot up in surprise and she looked at Mr Thompson. I desperately hoped she wouldn't curse him for the sugar.
“Is that how he found out where we were?” she asked.
My eyes dimmed in realization and I turned towards Mr Thompson, silently demanding an explanation of how he knew our whereabouts.
He seemed to read the question in my eyes when he looked at me.
“I tracked your phone's location," he answered and my lips pursed out.
"You… you did what?" I stuttered, took out my phone, and began to search for hidden files.
“I'm sorry I didn't tell you beforehand, but I installed a tracking app on your phone during lunch yesterday," he said and my jaw dropped.
I didn't remember taking out my phone or feeling anyone's hand around my pants pocket.
“When did you take it?" I asked.
"When you were interrogating the staff…" he paused and swung his head to the side, his eyes dimming as they stared at me.
“Don't tell me you're not aware I know how to do that?" he said.
"No, I didn't.”
He scoffed at my reply and narrowed his eyes.
“If you want to catch a criminal, you have to act like one," he said and smiled proudly.
"You won't delete the app, will you?” He asked.
I scoffed.
“I don't even know where you hid it."
He twitched up his lips and shook his head in disappointment.
“You've become so dull, it's annoying," he grumbled as he headed back into the cabin.
My face fell and I clenched my fist, cursing myself for failing to meet his expectations.
“I knew he was annoying," the woman scoffed, narrowing her eyes.
I wanted to tell her that he wasn't, but I stopped, realizing that that would only bring arguments.
“I'll buy another pack of sugar when we get back," I said. Her brows shot up and she scoffed loudly.
“Who cares about the sugar?" She huffed.
"I just don't like him,” she added.
"That was how I felt when I met you for the first time, though,” I blurted out in his defense.
She ran her eyes over my body, still not convinced.
“I felt the same way when I met you,” she replied and I burst into laughter, tired of trying.
“I'll send the location to you, come quickly," I heard Mr Thompson say to someone over the phone.
“Hold on, I'll be back,” I said to the woman, and mustered some courage before heading into the cabin. The foul smell seemed to have gotten stronger. I pinched my fingers against my nose and trudged closer to where Mr Thompson stood, typing away on his phone.
“What's going on?" I asked.
He looked up and pointed at the board full of women's pictures.
“Most of these women were all killed by the serial killer,” he blurted out and my heart clenched.
“Wait what?" I gasped out in disbelief.
Mr Thompson took out a marker and circled about six pictures of cancelled photos of women.
“These women are victims of the serial murder going on,” he said, and circled three other pictures that were cancelled.
My heart clenched, and I let out a gasp.
“He is involved in the serial killing?" I gasped out, and Mr Thompson nodded.
“These went missing a few years ago," he pointed at the pictures he circled, then moved to another one that included my mom's pictures.
“These women died naturally, though, I doubt that now."
My fist clenched and my lips trembled as I stared at the picture of my mom.
“Then these…” he pointed at the last two uncanceled pictures of the remaining women. “They are still alive."
"I'm sure they'll be the next to…” he paused and looked at me, his eyes dimming.
“Victoria?"
"That bastard!” I spat in rage, burning up. I wished I could catch him again, I would make sure he disappeared from the face of the earth.
Mr Thompson grabbed my shoulders and forced me to take my eyes off my mother's picture.
“He is the serial killer, now it'
s clear to us who the serial killer is. We're going to find him and kill him," he whispered and I broke down into tears.
It felt crazy that the men I had been after turned out to be the same person.