Page 1 of The Vigilante's Heart
Prologue
His screams echo off the walls of the empty building. No one can hear him, no one ever hears any of them; it doesn’t stop him from crying out for help though. Not that this one's cries will do him any good with me. I feel nothing, my heart died a long time ago. Ten years to be precise. He can beg all he wants, but I’m not stopping, not until the last drop of blood leaves his tortured body and his last exhale ghosts his lips.
The chains rattle as he shudders, his sobs heaving through his battered body… well, what’s left of it. I’ve slowly carved him up piece by piece; he’s not going to last much longer, not if the pool of blood underneath him is any indication.
“Why?” he wheezes as his body begins to shut down.
“Because I can.” They always ask when they realize they’re going to die; when they know that no one is going to rescue them. Once they finally accept their fate; it's then that they always ask. My answer is always the same, and it’s true. I do this because I can.
“Bu-but I don’t know y-y-you.” The words barely manage to leave his lips.
“No, you don’t, but I know you. I knoweverythingabout you, Gerald.”Enough, I think to myself. I step behind him, raise my knife to his throat and slice.
Another one gone. Another one to find.
Chapter One
Peyton
That sensation makes its way up my neck again, a feeling of not being alone, of being watched. I pause in my approach to my car, looking around the empty parking lot. I worked overtime tonight at the ER and it’s nearing midnight now, which unfortunately means no one else happens to be around the staff parking lot at the hospital. It's the third time I’ve felt this feeling of being watched and it’s getting harder and harder for me to dismiss it as my own paranoia. I quickly take in my surroundings, trying to note anything out of the ordinary, but come up empty. Picking up my pace again, I quickly make my way to my car, climbing in and instantly locking the doors behind me.
This is getting ridiculous, am I imagining things? The first time this happened was in the supermarket, it was busy, but I had the distinct feeling that I was being watched. The second time was outside my apartment the other night; that night was different, though, I’ve convinced myself I saw a shadow behind the tree. But then tonight is just a feeling again, there are no signs of anyone else around the parking lot. I feel like I’m going insane and I don’t know what to do. I can hardly go to the cops with a feeling; I literally have nothing else to give them, not once have I seen anyone or received anything.
The thirty minute drive home is filled with me continually checking my rear-view mirror and telling myself off because I’m just imagining things.
Walking through the front door of my apartment I’m greeted by the best man to ever exist and my absolute world.
“Hi D’Artagnan,” I coo, crouching down to stroke his back as he rubs himself against my legs. “Did you miss mommy? Did you miss me, baby boy?” He paws at my legs, chirping his agreement. I scoop him up and cuddle him as I make my way into my bedroom to shower and change, already feeling the stress leave my body as he buries his soft little head under my chin, purring contentedly. I place him on the bed as I go to strip for my shower but pause and turn to the window in my room. The blinds are up as usual — I never normally close them, they look out into the woods so no one can see in — but something is telling me that tonight I need to close them. As I pull the chord to shut out the trees, I look out and see nothing but darkness. No movement, no mis-shaped shadows. Nothing.
“What do you think, D’Artagnan? Is mommy being silly?” I ask as I turn back to my little fur baby. His only response is a tilt of his head and kissy eyes. “Yeah, helpful as usual,” I mutter. “Come on, showertime.” He likes to sit on the lid of the toilet while I wash, he’s my little shadow.
For the first time since I moved in here, I leave the bathroom door open, giving me a view of my bedroom and the hallway of my apartment. I’m following my gut instinct right now, and it’s screaming that something is wrong. That danger is lurking nearby.
***
Having tossed and turned all night, I push the button on my coffee machine needing the nectar of the Gods more this morning than most. I turn on the T.V so I can watch the morning news.
“Details have emerged about Gerald White, whose body was found last Monday in the downtown area. A source has informed us that he was being closely monitored by police for pedophilia. Since his death, evidence has been found to prove this. This begs us to ask the question: is our city vigilante responsible for the ending of yet another villain?”
The report goes into a discussion about our resident hero-villain. The public and news stations are split on their opinion of him — assuming that it even is a ‘him’. Some praise him for removing scum from the face of the earth, others say that people cannot take the law into their own hands, and that at the end of the day he is committing murder. I’m somewhere in the middle. As a first year ER resident and having taken the Hippocratic Oath, I can’t condone murder, but having seen the horrific results of some hideous crimes, by hideous people, I’m also glad to see some of them leave this earth by any meansnecessary. There’s not one of his suspected victims that I’ve felt sorry for, they are all the vilest of human beings.
I’m distracted from my thoughts by my cat getting the zoomies by the front door.
“D’Artagnan, what are you doing?” I call, but he continues running about like an absolute loon. It sounds like he’s moving something around, though. Walking out into the hallway I investigate what he’s trying to destroy this time.
“What have you got?” I ask when I see him laying on something white, his large saucer-like eyes staring at me. Grabbing what I can now see is a piece of paper and avoiding his gnawing jaws, I pull it out from under him and freeze. The blood drains from my face and fear like I’ve never known runs through me. I re-read the words written on the square of card, certain I must be imagining them. But they’re still there, still horrifying and still on the floor of my hallway after having been slipped under my door.
Chapter Two
Bennett
I stand at the floor to ceiling windows of my office looking out over the city,mycity. The city I protect. The city that — for the last ten years — I have rid of the evils that walk it. Glancing down the forty-five floors to the sidewalk, the people milling about look like ants from here, and I can’t help but wonder if they know of the dangers lurking around the corner, of the horror stories I could tell them, the lengths I go to to protect them.
I look back towards my desk and the figures on my computer screen, figures that keep blurring because my mind is on something else. I’m too aggravated with the lack of movement on my newest project. He should be frustrated by now; it’s been weeks since his last victim, unlessI missed one. By now, he should be tailing someone, giving himself away, but he’s quiet and it’s making me doubt myself. I need eyes on him, maybe he’s found a way around my tracker. In person, I think to myself. Tonight, I’ll follow him in person.
My eyes stray to the picture on my desk; she’s the reason for what I do, the one I couldn’t save. She’s why my heart is closed off, never to feel, never to love again. It died with her.
“Sir, your ten o’clock is here.” My P.A’s voice comes through the intercom on my desk, breaking me out of my thoughts.