Page 2 of Grave Possession (Grave #2)

Chapter One

Graves

Present.

“ L ennox, there’s a call for you on line two.” Carla pokes her head around the corner to ensure that I heard her.

“Who is it?”

She huffs in annoyance, disappearing back around the corner.

No less than five seconds later, she’s yelling, “It’s a woman named Victoria, says she knows your girlfriend.

” My heart swells at the endearment. She is my girlfriend, and I’m so fucking lucky.

I lift the receiver, yell to Carla that I’ve answered it, then raise it to my ear.

“Officer Graves here.”

“Where the fuck is she, asshole? I swear to all the gods if you did something to her I’ll lob off your nuts and shove them down your throat.

” The female voice on the other end of the line is drenched in worry while trying to remain intimidating.

Unease swirls in my gut. After watching Mallory for so long, I learned Victoria is her closest friend.

If she is contacting me, something is seriously wrong.

“Ma’am, please calm down. What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, cop. Where the fuck is Mallory?” she growls at me through the phone.

“Mallory… I don’t know.” Fuck, how long has it been since I’ve seen her?

I pull my phone out - no new messages or calls.

Noting the date and time, I realize I haven’t seen her for almost forty-eight hours.

Shit, am I the world’s worst boyfriend? I’m definitely being demoted from my obsessive stalker position.

I’ve been so wrapped up in the new evidence, time has dissolved without me even realizing it.

Two phones were dropped off to the city police department by a messenger service.

The boys in blue began interrogating the young delivery man while the tech department started on identifying the devices.

It was uncovered that they belonged to the last two victims, Melissa and Melody.

I’ve been working overtime and running down leads ever since.

“She’s probably at work or home. Have you tried calling her?” I try to keep my voice steady and authoritative. Internally, I’m fucking panicked.

“Of course I’ve called her. Her phone just rings and rings, then goes to voicemail.

She missed her cleaning shift this morning, and now she’s not here for her waitressing shift this evening.

I know you two haven’t been together very long, but this isn’t like Mal.

She never misses work, and if she does, it’s only because she’s too sick to even get out of bed.

But she always calls. Always .” Victoria’s voice breaks on the last word, and my mounting anxiety has me needing to get the fuck out of this building.

I need to find my little siren and ensure her safety immediately.

“Victoria, I’m leaving work right now to head to Mallory’s house. Give me your number so I can call you back if I find her.” She rattles off her number, then demands mine in return. I hang up the receiver, dragging my hands down my face to collect myself.

I decide to call her first. She has no reason to not answer a call from me. Maybe something happened between her and Victoria.

Ring… Ring… Ring…

A clicking sound comes through the receiver, then her answering message starts to play in my ear.

“Hi, you’ve reached Mallory, I’m unable to answer your call at this time. Leave a message and maybe I’ll ring you back.” Click.

She didn’t answer.

Rounding the corner to Carla’s desk, I’m annoyed to find her filing her fucking nails.

“What time did Mallory leave the other day?” I snap.

She just about jumps out of her skin from fright but points to the sign in/sign out sheet that’s been used for the past few days.

The precinct doesn’t get much foot traffic, so the forms can last over a week sometimes.

Scanning the page, there’s Mallory’s name, written in her familiar script.

She was in and out in less than five minutes, probably just dropping the keys and snacks off on my desk.

Something like a knife impales itself in my gut as her initials are scrawled in the ‘signature’ section of the form.

M. E. K .

“Tell the captain I’m taking my break.” I don’t wait for a response from Mrs. Willows before I turn and leave.

I’m sprinting across the lot, then diving into my truck.

Everything is taking too much fucking time; the turn of the key, the engine rumbling to life, the door closing behind me, reversing out of the parking stall.

I wait for the traffic to clear then tear out onto the road, loose pebbles kicking up from beneath my tires.

I flick on the police lights and rip through town.

Dusk is fast approaching, and my mind races as I whip the truck off the main street, onto Sawmill Road.

Too long, I’m taking too fucking long. If anything has happened to her because of my inability to catch a serial killer, I will never forgive myself.

The turn off for the mill is fast approaching as I debate whether to head there or stay on course to Mallory’s place. I don’t turn, and I hope I don’t regret it.

S teering into her driveway, my skin prickles with unease. Her car is here…so where the hell is she?

I cross the distance to the door. The scene before me turns the blood in my veins frigid as I force away a chill crawling up my spine.

The glass window is cracked, the spider web pattern radiating outward from a concentrated point of impact.

There’s blood on the door and the step, the trail then disappears into the grassy gravel.

Surveying the area, I notice drag marks leading away from the house and I follow them.

There’s no need to check the house, she’s not here, I can feel it in my bones. Mallory’s gone.

I follow the impressions in the dirt, they lead me to the alcove where I park my vehicle on the nights I watch Mallory.

My entire body freezes when I see a syringe laying on the ground.

There’s dried blood on the needle and the plastic is shattered as though it was crushed beneath a tire.

The tread imprints surrounding it are smaller than those left by my truck, these are most likely from a small sedan.

The memory of the red one I had seen the night of the rain storm flashes through my mind.

There’s no way she’s been watched this long and I didn’t know.

But I did know, didn’t I?

There were little signs everywhere, signs I chose to ignore or forgot about.

I make my way back to Mallory’s, looking for more evidence as I go.

Do I call this in and get the entire squad and city police department up here combing for clues?

She would fucking hate so many people in her space.

I can’t say I’m too fond of the idea either.

If I keep this quiet, I can find the man myself and drag out his death.

I trudge up the gravel drive, scanning the area for anything of meaning along the way.

My vision snags on something lying on the ground by Mal’s rear driver’s side tire.

It’s been partially kicked under the car, shadows partially obscuring its location.

Did you try to leave me a clue, little siren? I crouch down and retrieve the item.

A horrifying realization plows into me as all my worst fears come true.

Dropping to my knees I curl into myself as the emotion threatens to spill over.

Sharp gravel stabs into my skin. I welcome the pain.

I deserve it. An agonized roar erupts from deep in my chest as I expel every excruciating feeling from within me.

The cry echoes through the silent evening, sending my pain out into the expanse around me.

My fingers curl around the Ghostface mask that doesn’t belong to me, but was undoubtedly used to lure Mallory out from within her house.

The cheap plastic crinkles and snaps in my bare hands, compromising any lingering evidence.

I don’t care though. When I find the culprit, I’ll stab the razor-sharp pieces into their jugular and watch them bleed.

Someone took my fucking woman. Ripped her away from me without me even realizing it.

Self-loathing dances with the darkness swirling on the fringes of my psyche as the monster within pushes against my skin.

The part of me I keep under lock and key is growing, raging and thrashing, ready to explode out of me as an unstoppable force.

I let it.

Nothing will stop me from getting her back, and I pity any fucker who stands in my way.

Picking myself up, I put the broken mask into the toolbox of my truck, then head inside Mal’s empty house.

The door is unlocked. It swings open, the groan of the hinges eerie in the deafening silence.

Mallory’s combat boots are missing and there are no signs of a struggle within the house.

I head to her bedroom, immediately noticing her cell phone sitting in the middle of the bed.

Where are you, baby?

I unlock her phone, then open the security camera app.

“Camera Offline” stares back at me from every feed, and my heart stalls.

No, this can’t be happening. I open the past recordings of ‘motion detected’ alerts.

They are short fifteen second clips of whatever triggered the camera to kick on.

The most recent one is from two days ago.

I watch someone in the mask emerge from my path in the woods, and make their way across the yard.

They stop suddenly, tilting their head to glare directly into the camera.

The perpetrator raises their hand in a two finger salute of acknowledgement, then turns towards the back of the house, where they disappear from view.

This is the last clip, the cameras have been offline ever since.

Before leaving Mallory’s room, I grab her favourite hoodie, a fluffy pair of socks, jogging pants, and her ghost blanket.

Shoving it all into a duffle bag from her closet along with her phone and charging cord.

I close the door behind me, make my way across the yard, and slide back into the driver’s seat of my truck.

Think Graves. Think . You know these woods better than anyone.

Where is she? It’s been two days. Where would he take her?

He has to have eyes on the mill at all times.

How else would he have known when it was left unmanned for such a small window of time?

He knew when to commit another murder- the one night I was snuggled up with Mal.

Were the phones a distraction? A way to tie up the squad so he could rip Mallory out from under my nose?

It all makes sense now. Each victim became closer and closer in appearance to Mal.

The hair, the coloured contacts…even the victim’s height and build resembled Mallory.

My head swims, vision blurring as my world flips upside down.

This is what total devastation feels like.

I’ve failed to protect her. A single vow I made and couldn’t keep.

Guilt and despair pull me under as another agonized cry bursts from my throat.

The urge to lash out and break something swells within me.

I’m reverting back to the person I was before I learned control, emotions threatening to take over and steer me towards irrational thought.

My grip tightens around the steering wheel as my eyes slam shut.

Breathe in. Visions of Mallory flood my brain.

She is my calm in this storm. Breathe out.

Her smile. In. Her laugh. Out. The way it feels to be loved by her.

In. How loving her has made me whole in a way I never knew possible. Out.

The very thought of her wraps me in a comforting hug while my heart threatens to crumble in my chest. She can’t be dead yet.

She’s been his focus for far too long to kill her so quickly.

I can’t even think of what he is doing to her or I will lose it again.

Instead, I plan my next move. He has to have his ear to the ground where the police are involved.

If I sound the alarms that she is missing, he could kill her and go on the run.

I need to do this quietly. Taking a deep breath, I compose myself, then call my uncle.

“Captain Graves,” his gruff voice carries through the earpiece.

“Are you alone?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Who is on patrol at the mill?” Anxiety shoots through my veins like an electric shock.

“Myers, why?”

“Pull him out and send him on my route.”

“Why? What the hell is going on, son?” His concern threatens to tear down the flimsy walls keeping my emotions at bay.

“He’s got Mallory. He’s got my girlfriend. ”

“What do you mean? Who’s got…” his voice trails off as the few things I’ve said click together. “No.”

“She’s been gone for two days by the looks of it.”

“Lennox…”

“No. Don’t. I’m going to get her back, I have to. You pull Myers out of that mill, and I’m going to be waiting for that fucker to show up again to carry out his sick little ritual.”

“You can’t go in alone.”

“I can and I will.”

“What if something happens?”

“Nothing will happen. I don’t have time for this.

I have to go. I love you, uncle.” His breath catches, stalling in his lungs.

I can count the amount of times I’ve said those words to my adoptive guardian on one hand.

There’s no doubt in my mind that hearing me say them now solidifies the idea in his mind that I may not be coming back.

I will die for Mallory. Fuck, I’d eat a bullet for the chance to just exist again with her in another lifetime, in another existence.

“Be safe, Lennox, and come home.”

“Yes, sir.”

Click.