It has been a few months since the last… incident took place. I moved cities, a few states away, I disguised it as wanting to go live with my girlfriend, while that was also true it was mostly to go somewhere where *he* would not find me. Before I moved I made sure there weren’t any subway stations in the city.
I was extremely paranoid the first month or two. I barely left my house, to pitch in I got a sound editing job I could work from home but I made sure my name stay out of any projects I worked on.
My girlfriend, Fran, was very supportive the entire time and as of a few days before writing this I was feeling back to normal. I went grocery shopping, did a date night with Fran at the movies, and for once in a few months, I was feeling truly happy again.
This was until around three days ago when I got an email from an address I didn’t recognize. As I opened my phone to read the notification my mind was racing from thought to thought. This couldn’t be him, I changed emails, and my phone number isn’t attached to this, no way it would be him right? Then I read the title.
“Seeking more film work,” it was him.
He sent a link to a private anonymous chat room where he started to type.
“I was very impressed by your last work and would like to commission you again.”
I was shocked by the calmness and official sound words as if he was not just asking me to watch him murder someone.
He continued “I see you have moved cities, I found out where you lived and leased an abandoned building a few blocks west, you will definitely know it when you see it. Meet me there tomorrow at about four to earn your next paycheck.”
I was terrified to my core. I didn’t want to go, but he knew where I lived, I could not run, he would just find me again and if I left he might hurt Fran, if I didn’t go he would probably also hurt her. I couldn’t call the police, I would get tied to the other murder and my life would be ruined. My mind slowed and my fast-beating heart almost stopped when my mind realized the only decision I could make in this situation. *I had to go back*.
When I woke up the next morning my hands were clammy and my skin was grey with fear. Fran noticed my state ”baby is everything okay?” she asked running her hand through my hair, “Yes love,” I lied back, “I’m just feeling a bit under the weather today, might have to take the day off of work and rest.” She nodded and said, “yes you do that, you look like death warmed over.” She gave me a warm hug and kiss before she left for work, god I could not live without her.
Because of my paranoia, we made a habit where we would text each other when we arrived somewhere we were on the way to. Every morning when she got to work she would text me, but into the afternoon I was left without a text.
My heightened nerves were bad enough but now I was worried that something had happened to her, it was probably fine though, she’d forgotten to text before and she was okay then so I just ignored it and continued to have my mini-heart-attacks waiting till four.
Then after hours upon hours of suspense of terror, it was three-forty-five. I decided that now was the time I was going to get ready and leave.
Like before I grabbed a few cameras, the email had also listed a few bits and pieces of equipment he knew I had from when I applied to the job at first. He asked for a slow-mo camera, a time-lapse camera, a regular filming camera, a gimbal, a clip-on mic, and a thumb drive. This was much more than what he asked from me before, I was scaring myself more by imagining what he needed so much equipment for but I took my nerves and walked the few blocks.
The building he had leased was an abandoned swimming pool. The outside was rusted and greasy, looking like a warehouse that had been left to rot for a few decades in an ocean. The only reason I could tell it was a pool was that there was a sign a few yards above the door that said “Marty’s pool, bar, and lounge,” in disgusting, disjointed, and near-illegible red text.
I knocked on the door and on the third knock like clockwork he opened the door and let me inside. Around the interior was the pool, which had been cleaned and converted into a mini filming set. He had placed soundproofing around the sides, tarps below, and a black backdrop behind a rusted metal chair.
He gestured for me to place my bag on a table that stood several yards in front of the chair so I did. I set up everything and he broke the awkward and nerve-racking silence by slapping me on the back and saying “this will be so much more of a spectacle than the first time.”
He said it with a grin that shattered me to my soul. Normally if one thinks of a terrifying grin they think of a head tilt and a plastic smile with no life behind the pale emotionless eyes but this was not that. His face was full of life and vigor, you expect dead eyes from a serial killer, you don’t expect an actual human to say those words and yet, one was, and he was enjoying what he was talking about.
After I set up my equipment he took out a bag of his own and set it up on a separate table that was to be outside of the shot.
“Ah, finally ready,” he said to himself under his breath.
“Well let’s get started,” he clapped his hands together and walked out of the pool into a back room.
About a minute later he walked out with a figure in hand. They were wrapped with black cloth but it was tight enough to see it was a feminine form. It seemed under the black hood and wrap she was gagged as only sounds of struggle came from her mouth.
He placed her in the chair and tied her down.
“Action,” he yelled as he went to his table, he put on his mic and grabbed a bucket of water from his table as I started filming. With two quick steps and a throwing action, the water was thrown into the woman’s face, beginning to waterboard her as she struggled to move and breathe.
He began to laugh maniacally as he took the camera from me and did a close-up of the woman.
“Look at this little bitch,” he whispered to himself as he saw her dry drowning.
He gave the camera back to me as he stood in front of her for a moment. He switched her hoods so she could breathe once again but he stood in a way where neither I nor the camera could see her face.
He put the bucket back and grabbed a gun from the table. He prodded around the side of her for a few minutes before whispering to himself “of there’s her arm.”
He just stood there staring at her for a minute or two, relishing in the fear he could feel and hear coming from his victim before.
*BANG*, a gunshot was heard and a hole was blown through the woman’s arm.
He took off his mic and came over to me. “I have to leave for an important business meeting, can you set up the time-lapse camera and throw another bucket in her face, I wanna watch her drown when I get back.”
I nodded quickly and began setting things up as he left. Before I finished I took off the hood of the woman to see who this was, who I was helping to hurt and murder.
My heart dropped as my worst fears sat before me, it was Fran.
When the cloth came off I immediately took off her gag. She was screaming in pain and wailed for several dozen seconds as I tended to her wound and came up with a plan that I quickly told her.
I was going to put everything back on but before I started the camera I was gonna untie her and undo her cloth a little bit, I also told her that while my back was turned to knock me out.
The plan was set in motion, I turned on the camera and while my back was turned she took a pipe on the murderer’s table and bashed me in the head with it knocking me out.
I awoke with the man in my face.
“Rookie mistake,” he said, the thumb drive with footage in hand.
“But an earned dollar is an earned dollar,” he continued handing me an envelope.
I stammered back home, I was in such a rush that I forgot all my cameras. I just wanted to make sure that Fran was okay.
I got home and unlocked the door, praying that her beautiful eyes would greet me, but I was met only with silence, she had left, of course, she had.
I sat alone in the apartment we shared. For days I sat, not doing work and living off the few thousand dollars I was given.
An email came into my inbox, from the same account as before.
“Your services are no longer needed friend,” it said in its opening text.
A blade of relief crossed over me until I read the next line.
“See you soon.” it read.