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The Keystroke Killer Page 10
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Morty retrieved his pocket knife and slit the duct tape between her feet. He ripped open her legs to a spread eagled position and grabbed her folds as he licked his lips hungry for a decent fuck. The tip of his gun rested on the girl’s forehead. “If you scream, I’ll kill you. Do you understand?” His voice cut like a whip. “What’s your name?”
“Cris… Cristi… Jew… Jewell.” Her words faltered between her short breaths horrified as she looked over at the sacrificial Anna. “Why did you kill her?” She trembled as tears fell.
“I don’t like freaks of nature. I sell girls. The men that buy from me expect a piece of sweet pussy and not a fucking dick. Now shut the fuck up.”
Cristi scooted away from her captor as the chains held her in place. “Please, please, let me go.”
“You bitches need to stop fucking begging. Now it’s time for a test run.” He flipped her over.
***
Judas worked on the blue tesseract using delicate precision while he channeled the genius ambition of Leonardo Da Vinci in his fantasy thoughts. He appreciated the public would remember him for his inventions like his idol – the great master creator.
He fantasized that he replaced the Da Vinci’s anemometer by the Greenberg Lanemometer that measures the speed of lasers in space. His hero’s flying machine replaced by the Greenberg Rocket, a one-man spaceship capable of warp speed that would reach Mars in under nine hours.
Judas, deep in thought and fantasy, ignored Marge as she entered the lab. “Come to bed. Your work will be here tomorrow.”
Judas smirked at his wife. “Not yet, I will soon. You get some sleep.”
“Will you promise me you’ll come to bed in an hour?”
“It’s only midnight. I have several more hours in me. Go to bed.”
Marge approached her husband and gave him a peck on the cheek. Although she disapproved of her husband’s decision, she closed the garage side door behind her as angst filled her expression.
Judas continued to adjust the blue cube. After four adjustments, the cube’s hum filled the room as a blue plasma lightning bolt escaped, traveled through his fingers, through his arms, to his neck and stopped at his eyes. For a brief second, his eyes glowed the same faint blue of the tesseract. He collapsed, his body shook, and his tongue protruded.
“Are you malfunctioning? I sense you are in distress.”
“I am Judas, I come from the fourth dimension.” The dark, computerized and methodical voice echoed in the lab with chilling menace. It was definitely not Judas’ voice; it was something inhuman.
FRIDAY, MARCH 29, 2058
chapter 8
Space Oddity
Marge’s love for antiques shined in the décor splashed by her collection of Moon and Stars glassware displayed on the fireplace mantel and bookshelves. Each piece originated from the 1950s and had belonged to her family for more than a century. They were important because they connected her to her ancestors. The antiques were in direct conflict to the contemporary living room furniture and modern technology.
A family portrait of Marge, Judas, a Caucasian seven-year-old boy and an African American teenager girl provided the focal point on the mantle. A replica of the U.S.S. Hawking sat on Judas’ desk and served as his constant reminder of his solar wind design.
Judas sat in his favorite chair reading the daily newspaper’s headline - “Another Woman Found Dead at Kenner Boat Launch.”
Marge peeked her head into the living room from the kitchen. “You want any more coffee?”
“Deedra, turn on the news.” He continued to read the paper.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t understand that.”
Marge retreated into the kitchen.
“Never mind, Deedra.”
“I will search for never mind and see what I can find.”
“No, Deedra. Turn on the television.”
“The television is powered to your favorite news station.”
The television loaded to Samantha Breland.
“I wish Marge responded as obediently as you.” Judas turned the page.
“I’m sorry Judas. I didn’t understand that.”
Marge entered the living room waving the feather duster in her hand. “Did you hear me or were you ignoring me?” The scroll at the bottom of the television screen caught her eye.
“Deedra, turn up the sound.” Marge crossed her arms over her chest.
“Unmuting sound.”
“In Mid-city, Tom Thompson announced his bid for the Congressional seat he holds after former Congressman Joe Bartlett resigned amidst sexual harassment allegations. Congressman Thompson pledged not only to increase the space exploration program, but he also pledged to launch an additional colonization spaceship by the year twenty sixty.” Samantha glanced toward George Newland, her co-anchor.
“Moments ago, Congressman Thompson cut the red ribbon to his congressional campaign headquarters as hundreds gathered in support. His wife, current Louisiana Attorney General, Janice Bennett, stood at his side. Congressman Thompson known for his legislation to produce our own green energy set the standard for America. Not having to rely on other countries for oil, this move will have a significant impact on America’s economy and autonomy…”
***
Alex continued to organize the liquor bottles as he listened to the morning news reported by Samantha Breland.
“…The impact on our economy has already begun as stock prices for Angela Wind Farm International skyrocketed. Using the same technology as the starship, U.S.S. Hawking, launched over a decade ago and now forty light years from earth, the U.S.S. Dimension will make headlines when it docks alongside the sister starship in the TRAPPIST-1 system. This densely packed star system has a planet similar to earth. In less than two months, Major Drax ‘Spinner’ Angela, Dr. Garrick Angela’s only son, who is stationed aboard the U.S.S. Dimension will mark this historical event for humanity as the two crews attempt to colonize a planet outside our solar system.”
***
At KWNC, George continued the news broadcast behind the anchor desk to the right of Samantha. “Everyone on both starships volunteered for the one way trip. If the planet is deemed unsuitable for colonization, the two crews must continue their journey to find a planet suitable to save humanity. During our last broadcast covering the U.S.S. Dimension, Lieutenant Commander Eli Giannis, Mission Control Specialist, named the planet Terra Realm. NASA isn’t sure if the name will hold, but for now that is what we are calling it. We now go to a live broadcast from the U.S.S. Dimension. Standing by is Lieutenant Commander Eli Giannis, the only astronaut and crew member who has remained awake during this twelve year voyage to Terra Realm.”
***
As David Bowie’s song Space Oddity played throughout the spaceship, Eli Giannis, an attractive olive skinned thirty-three-year-old, wore his tight white body spacesuit as he floated around on the Command Bridge of the U.S.S. Dimension.
A patch on his uniform bore the Dimension logo; his name engraved in royal blue below the famous insignia. On the suit’s upper left arm, a United States flag patch identified his citizenship.
He anticipated the live remote broadcast - the only communication since 4,185 crew members and the 58,327 colonists, selectively chosen, were induced into cryo-sleep. His primary focus during the last twelve lonely years composed of taking care of the starship and those on board until they go through the Reborn process to awaken from their cryochambers.
“This is the U.S.S. Dimension. Houston, can you hear me?” A delay in the broadcast by several minutes was longer than expected. Eli executed a fluid somersault through the atmospheric void of gravity and pushed himself away cartwheeling from the movie screen size bridge window which displayed a perfect view of a blooming crab nebula.
The crab nebula, bright orange and tinges of red and yellow, enclosed a vibrant multi-blue interior and pulsated bursts of white lightening succumbing to the darkness of the black space. Thousands of stars gleamed and winked like diamonds.
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br /> He maneuvered and floated to the area appointed for the science officer. On the control panel below him, an electronic chess game in progress against Deedra challenged him. Eli slid his queen to a bright blue luminesce square. It turned dark teal as the queen landed.
“Are you sure that is the move you intended? I have mastered the Fischer move.”
“Yes, Deedra. I’m certain.”
“Yes, U.S.S. Dimension, we can hear you.” George grinned with excitement. “How is everyone on board?”
“Saved by the bell. Sorry Deedra, save our chess game. We’ll finish later.”
“I can’t wait to continue our game, Eli. You are on.”
Eli somersaulted in the antigravity atmosphere he created for the broadcast by adjusting the gravity controls beforehand. “All still on ice and doing great. I can’t wait until they go through the Reborn process. It’s lonely out here in the vastness of space.” He pretended to adjust the controls on several cameras to put on a show for the world during another broadcast delay.
“We here on Earth are excited about that too.” Samantha’s eyes followed the teleprompter. “We have several questions. What has it been like not talking to anyone for two months? When your brother is Reborn, how will it feel for you to be older than him and most of the crew as they didn’t age while in cryo-sleep? Have you had to activate SO-LAR? Last question, have you communicated with the U.S.S. Hawking?”
The broadcast on the main screen in front of Eli flickered several times and turned blank.
***
From the KWNC newsroom, George reported, perplexed. “We’re sorry about that. We have lost our connection to the Pegasus satellite and will have to wait two more months for those answers. Samantha, catch everyone up on the headlines.”
“In other news, the death toll rose to eight as another sorority sister from Alpha Sigma Kappa has become the latest victim of the Sorority serial killer. Details of how his latest victim died are not being released pending further investigation and identification of the woman through either DNA or dental records. FBI consultant and oral surgeon Dr. Frank Franklin was brought in to consult on the case…”
***
“…It is well known the Sorority serial killer stalks his victims using the powerful search engine, D-Net, developed by Dr. Garrick Angela through his company, Dimension Global.” Dr. Angela listened to Samantha from the back seat of his black stretch limousine.
***
“…Victims of the Sorority serial killer have four commonalities: college women, brunette hair, blue-green eyes and pledged Alpha Sigma Kappa.”
Matthew’s hair dripped from his morning shower as he pulled his jeans to his waist. He grabbed the remote control and increased the volume.
“Women matching this description are advised to take every precaution and report any unusual activity to the FBI by calling one-five-five-five-HOTLINE. Stay tuned to KWNC for updates as this breaking news story develops.”
Matthew clicked the remote to turn off the news.
“What did they say?” Roxy grasped the blue sheet to cover her enhanced breasts. Her dread and gloom the night before transformed to bread and bloom.
“Another murder victim of the Sorority serial killer. Nothing that should concern a blonde.” He nabbed his red plaid flannel shirt he wore the day before from the laundry pile and put it on.
“Really? A blonde joke. Just come back to bed, how about another quickie?”
“Not today. Got things to do and places to be.” He buttoned his shirt. “Coffee is on the stove and I left a blueberry muffin and some cream cheese for you. Lock up when you leave and don’t steal anything.”
“What! I may be a pro, but I’m no thief.”
Good to know.
chapter 9
Is This for Real?
Across town from Matthew’s apartment was Loyola University’s campus, home of the Wolf Pack. Blaze clutched her books, a notebook and scurried toward Mag and Jenni. She tripped dropping her books and folders as papers took flight in the wind. She scrambled in a cat-and-mouse chase to the amusement of her friends. “Great! There goes my ‘A’ plus.”
Jenni sprung to the aid of her friend and caught several papers in mid-flight.
Mag laughed. “Not so fast. After I proofed your paper last night, I printed a copy. I thought you might forget to bring yours.”
“You’re a life saver.” Blaze watched several papers fly out of her reach as the wind speed increased. She cast a thankful grin toward Mag.
Jenni stopped and returned to her friends. “Well, somebody had to.”
Across the campus grounds, a black stretch limousine arrived. The chauffeur stepped from it, moseyed to the back passenger’s side and opened the door. Dr. Angela stepped from the stretch.
Mag’s brow burrowed. “Blaze, what’s your dad doing here?”
Blaze looked over her shoulder. “Umm, you must be seeing things.”
“No kidding, I saw him.”
A frown developed on Blaze as she glanced at her watch. “Great. We’re late to class.”
“Now she cares.” Jenni slapped her thigh in frustration.
The girls scampered toward the psychology building and through the entrance. They bounded up the stairs landing on every other one, raced down the waxed hall to Room 619 on the right, and bolted into the lecture room.
Professor Faust stood behind the podium on the seven inch raised stage. He looked at his pocket watch and huffed. “Glad the Three Musketeers could join us.”
“Sorry Professor.” Blaze’s cheeks flushed. “It’ll probably only happen once again this semester.”
The class laughed at Blaze’s attempt at a joke.
Mag tapped Blaze’s shoulder in disapproval as Professor Faust, not amused, squinted and frowned.
Mag led the way down the aisle, stopped at the third-row and sat in the middle of the empty row. Jenni and Blaze followed behind. Jennie sat next to Mag. Blaze tripped, dropped one of her books and plopped onto the cushioned seat next to Jenni.
Jenni gently pushed Blaze’s shoulder. “Geez, Blaze. Can you walk a straight line?”
Blaze retrieved her book.
The girls opened their text books and retrieved their pens and papers.
“Now that we’re all here, we can begin class.” Professor Faust fixated his eyes on Blaze.
Jenni scanned the room as if calling roll, she leaned toward Blaze. “Where do you think Cristi is?”
“Not sure. It isn’t like her to miss class.” Blaze nodded and scanned the room.
“Frances isn’t here either.” Jenni leaned back into her chair as a worried expression developed.
“Please pass your assignments to the front.” Professor Faust scanned the class. “Does anyone know where Cristi is?”
The students passed their papers to the front as Blaze tried to organize hers.
“I told you.” Jenni inclined close to Mag’s ear. “Cristi has gone missing? I think the serial killer got her.”
Roth leaned between Mag and Jenni. “If you two don’t shut up, you might be next.” That is, after Frances.
The girls looked at each other startled.
Mag creased her brow. “You think he means that?”
The redhead cleared his throat.
“Can I have that copy?” Blaze leaned across Jenni to Mag.
Mag retrieved the folder from her notebook and handed it across Jenni to Blaze.
Professor Faust looked at Blaze. “Ms. Angela is there a problem?”
“No problem, under complete control.”
Mag passed her assignment and Blaze’s research paper to Jon who sat in front of the girls.
Blaze extended her thumb. “Thank you.”
“Ms. Angela, you did your own research, didn’t you?”
“Well, like dah. Smile, sparkle and shine. I ran out of ink, so Mag printed it for me, that’s it.”
“I hope you read your assignment too.”
Blaze shook her head. “Close cal
l. Thanks Mag.”
Professor Faust took a sip of water. “These next two chapters are important in understanding the psychological aspects on test subjects who have gone through near death experiences.”
Blaze leaned toward Mag. “Is this for real?” Her voice a faint whisper attracted the Professor’s attention.
“Ms. Angela! Would you like to make a comment we all can hear?”
“Is for real? People having near death experiences.”
The class erupted in laughter once again.
“Indeed Ms. Angela, this is for real. In fact, a guest speaker who not only experienced near death, but who also has done extensive research on victims of serial killers who came close to dying will be in attendance. In the meantime, it will be your assignment to work in groups to prepare for your final presentation. Each group will present specific aspects I have chosen ahead of time for a creative presentation for your final semester test. As I call your group, find a spot and begin to collaborate.”
Blaze leaned over to Jenni. “I hope he knows to put us together.”
“Like he would have a choice.”
“The Three Musketeers will present their group presentation on how people cope after enduring a near death experience. Roth, Heather and Jon, your group will present interviews correlated on what people described they witnessed during an event.”
***
Across the campus in the Hawking Science Lab building, Dr. Angela stood alongside a researcher at a black lab table. His white engraved lab coat read, “Dr. Bryan Langford.” Beneath his name was, “Geneticist.” By the Bunsen burners, distillation glassware, beakers, Erlenmeyer flasks and a crucible, a research project progressed as Dr. Langford attached a buret to the ring stand and suspended a flask filled with light blue liquid. “I’ve isolated the DNA mutant chromosome SNP-IT-C6/11. Drax is a carrier.”
Dr. Angela watched as Dr. Langford manipulated the experiment. “Excellent work. Do you realize what this means?”
“I trust I do. We’ve waited twenty years to isolate this mutation.”