The Killing Ghost

  The wind whipped his hair all around his face reminding him that he once again needed a hair cut. He loved it when it was stormy because it felt like the universe was one with him, though he knew that it couldn't really be that way, but it was a nice feeling none the less.

  His mind was so chaotic and his motions were a whirlwind, there never seemed to be anything that could tame the feelings. After every sacrifice it was calmer and not so overwhelming. He hated having to do the sacrifices but it was the only way for him to quell his inner demon, yet even he had noticed that the need had started getting worse, an the excitment at the hunt grew more obvious. He now enjoyed himself almost to an orgasmic level when committing the sacrifice, but still it worried him, he was having to do more sacrifices,more often then he did when he first started. He didn't know if he could hide it any longer...if he could control himself.

  He had started noticing that every woman that walked by he took measurements for, or he would watch them to see if they fit his criteria to become an offering. It was constantly on his mind, and when he slept he could hear the voice of the demon inside impatiently whispering to him that it was time for another sacrifice. He hated hearing the voice of the demon, the sound of the creatures voice was that of ice scraping across a chalkboard, it was grating and it had the tendency to make the hairs all over his body stand up on edge.

  He looked down both sides of the beach to see if there was anyone about that would see him drop off the left overs. He didn't see anyone about, but of course there really wouldn't be very many people on the beach or on the river on a stormy day like this. The water would have been too choppy and the cool day was made colder by the wind that was blowing so fiercly.

  Turning he walked back to his piece of crap black truck, and opened the tail gate. Though he hated his truck it worked for his needs, he didn't want anyone to know who it belonged to justin case someone saw him, and he needed something that he could use to transport the lefts overs without making the cab stink. Removing the army green tarp that he had placed over the top, he grabbed the large igloo chest and hefted it up onto his shoulders.

  Who would have ever guessed that left overs could be so hefty. Making his way down to the water he felt the contents sloshing and thumping against the inside of the chest, and the smell was horrendous. That was the one part about doing the sacrifices that he hated, the smell of what was left of the offerings.
  Reaching the waters edge, he placed the chest on the ground and stared at it for a moment, contemplating on wether it was heavy enough to sink into the depths of the river, or if he would need to add more stuff to it to make it heavier. He decided to be safe and add more to it, opening it up he had to step back as a cloud of stench blasted him in the face. He looked into the chest and saw the goo still sliding back and forth, it was a mess, kneeling down he started scooping sand into the chest along with various rocks. When it was filled almost to the top he had the sudden urge to reach in and stir it all together making it look like a chest of goulosh with sand in it.
  Removing his hand he looked at it, at the slim fingers that had helped so many, hands that had brought down the wicked, hands that had brought justice to his city, and yet they were also the hands of a lover to the offerings, hands that had choked, and cut and tore and burned so many of the offerings. The demon inside raised its ugly head in hunger at the site and smell of the gritty composition, with an exciting slowness he sucked the sticky slime off of each finger. The taste was worse than the smell and it made him want to puke but he would not allow himself to, for it would leave behind evidence and he could not let that happen.

  Closing the lid he rinsed his hands in the water and then went back to the truck. Grabbing rope and a cement block, he returned to the chest and attached the rope to the chest and to the cement block. Once he had the rope tied around the chest he pulled out his wallet and the gun that he had and put them in the tool locker in the back of his truck with the rest of his "tools".

  Taking the rope and the chest he waded out into the water, which was so cold it felt like the icy fingers of death were grabbing at his ankles and working their way up his body. He had not thought that the current would be that strong but it was strong enough that he had a hard time keeping the chest with him. Once he reached chest high he stopped and dropped the brick, but after it hit bottom the chest still would not go under.  Getting on top he pushed down on the chest and held it there as it slowly filled with water from the lack of a good seal.

  Suddenly the current ripped the chest out from underneath him and tried to carry it off, but the rope had managed to wrap around his leggs and as it took off he went with it. Fighting the water he tried to catch his breath to get to the surface and break free from the rope, but the more he fought the more tangled he became. His lungs were burning for air and his feet and fingers were going numb from the cold water.

  As he was being swept along the brick got caught between two rocks and became stuck. He fought with the current to get to the knot in the rope to untie it but the water wasn't going to make it easy for him. Looking up at the surface he could see the chest still bobbing on the surface, but yet he couldn't reach the knot up there, nor could he reach the one at the brick. 

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. Turning, right in front of him was a girl, a girl who's eyes were missing, who's body held an assortment of fish that had made her their home. Another girl and another and another began to appear around him, many with pieces of their bodies missing. He soon began to realize that these were his offerings, they had some how escaped death and were there to take him.

  He fought as hard as he could to get to the surface, it was getting black around him and his lungs burned with the need to breathe. Looking down he saw his latest offering coming close as though to kiss him, opening his mouth he screamed. He felt ice cold fingers of death rush down his throat as she kissed him and helped force the water down into his lungs. Light began to fade away and though he was dying he could hear the demon in his head screaming in hatred and anger, then everything went black.

...Mean while on the surface an igloo bounced around on the water, a white beacon, for others to find...

  A week later the police were called out to the river to get the chest.They would have come sooner but the raging storm had not given up until that afternoon. The sun shown bright wich only made the white igloo gleam brighter for all to see. Upon bringing it to shallower waters, they found the body of a man tangled in the rope. He was missing his eyes and the fish had already eaten away at him.

  A homicide detective named Duncan, came down and was asked to open the chest, the detective and his partner opened it. His partner Jack, ran to the water and proceeded to puke over and over again until there was nothing left and he was doing nothing but dry heaving. Duncan looked at the grim site in disgust, inside the chest, was a pair of eyes, along with organs, hair, bones, skin, and un-known body pieces mixed along with sand. This had been a woman for on top of everything else was a breast, with bite marks and chunks missing, one of those chunks being her nipple. Closing the lid the detective turned and headed over to the body. His partner still sick came up behind him.

"Any one that we know" Jack asked.

"Yeah, we all know him, in fact the whole city knows him" Duncan replied.

His partner stared at the body trying to ignore the crabs crawling in and out of the body, then something caught his eye..a watch. Not just any watch, a watch that was given to retiree's... cop retirees. Bending down he tried to remove the watch only to have it tear half of the skin right off of the wrist. Jack again left to go puke.

  Removing the watch Duncan looked at the back of the watch.. and cursed. The back of the watch was enscribed with these words :
"For Serving the City with Honor and Diligence, we thank you for serving as our CHIEF of POLICE"

  Duncan sighed, he knew he had been right and it sickened him. He looked back at the crowd that had gathered and saw 10 women staring at him. All of them pale and sickly looking, and all of them standing together slightly apart from the rest of the gawkers. Then without warning the ambulance pulled into his line of vision, once out of the way the women were gone.

  For the first time in his adult life Duncan felt all the hairs on his body stand up, looking down at the body of the former Chief of Police, he had the sudden realization that the ghosts of HIS victims had gotten their revenge.