The Red Cross Killer

Chapter 1

‘Life is like a script, it has to come to an end.’ The line seemed to form in my head. A few tears rolled down my dirty face and dripped slowly onto the creaking floorboards. I sat there with the man’s head cradled in my hands. Fear was still painted upon his face as if he were reliving his last living moments over and over again. The man had that mark; another one of his victims. I did not know who he was, but it had to be the same person. No one would ever listen to me, but I knew it. The tiny ‘X’ that pierced the skin on the man’s left palm, signalled that he had stolen yet another life.

Ian Raston looked down at the crumpled sheet of paper that he held so tightly in his sweaty hand.
“Mountford Road!” He told Evans. He could not control the zealousness in his voice. He watched ardently as Evans keyed the address into the PDA. Who could blame him though? He was just a rookie. Life as a cop was new to him. Life without acting was new to him. He had only been working here for five months and had already participated in the investigations of three murder cases. What was the world coming to?
There was one thing that Ian was waiting desperately for; the time at which his bugger of a partner Evans would retire. It would happen sooner or later. Ian wished it would be sooner.
He looked upwards. The sky was a dusty blizzard of blackness and the moon was a dimming, single bulb; revealing to them the old country paths as they raced onwards, towards Mountford Road. He laid his head back and – if only for a few seconds – let himself melt into the warmness of the night.

I looked down into the man’s bulging eyes. I tried to picture the normal man behind all the blood and fright. Somehow I remembered him; or if not, he looked familiar. Where I had seen him, where and how I did not know. But this man’s image seemed to trigger something in the deep roots of my memory. I had no explanation as to why I had wound up finding another of these victims; but something in my conscience knew that leaving these corpses to be found by anyone was not a good idea. Why? I was not sure. I was not sure about anything. But I had to make a move.
I heard the distant roar of a police car, growing ever louder. Or maybe it was just my brain, hurling scared thoughts back and forth in a frenetic madness.

Ian was jerked back to reality as Evans slammed the brakes down suddenly.
“What was that?” He mumbled from under his crumb-covered beard. Ian looked at the street sign: Mountford Road.
“What?” Ian blinked, “I didn’t see anything.” Evans looked annoyed,
“You’re about as vigilant as a stuffed toy!” He looked at Ian disapprovingly, “And you’re the young’un!”
“Err, I’m sorry sir,” Ian defended himself, “And I am thirty nine.”
“Well that’s fourteen years younger than me then!” Evans growled, Ian slid down into his seat; his head drooping, clearly embarrassed. “Hmm,” Evans’ eyes widened, “look, there it is again.” A figure was strolling casually down the road, through the forest which surrounded them. “Eh, it’s probably nothing.” Ian nodded his head in agreement and was sure he heard an engine quietly shake into life. Evans continued down the winding road.

I closed my eyes as I gently pulled the blade out from the man’s heart. Blood gushed out like a leak in a water pipe; I stifled a scream. An unnerving feeling of guilt had implanted itself upon me. Why was I feeling like this? It was not my fault this man had died; I had just been a passer-by, a nosy one at that. Walking through the forest, I had heard a horrendous yelling from a house nearby, yells full of pain from a dying man. I just could not carry on walking. Not me. No one seemed to care about me, but I could never leave someone to die.
I lifted up the man’s checked shirt and a small gasp escaped me. His chest and been cruelly pierced in several places. His body was a bleeding mess, blood still oozing out. Why had I not just left him and ran? Now I had left my fingerprints upon him, hinting to any clue-seeking coppers that I was the murderer. Why did I always have to interfere?
I took hold of the man’s hands. He was short and quite scrawny, and so with a sudden wave of strength, I managed to haul him to the stairs. It seemed as though his bulged, sorrowful eyes never left mine. I tried my best not to focus on the reality of what I was doing. I was mad.
Part way down the stairs I tripped on the corpse and staggered backwards a few steps. My heart pounded ferociously. I regained my balance and let go of the chilled, scraggy hands to brush my frizzy mop of hair from my face.
As I pulled the strands from my eyes, I revealed my worst nightmare. Staring at me through was him. That pale white face. That bush of a curly black beard. And those empty, dilated eyes; peering at me through the black mask, hungry for the light. A face that I could not remember, yet knew so well; a
oops, it didn't all fit on lol. The last part was 'a face that I wanted to forget. My heart that had been drumming so viciously only moments ago now froze. The sudden stillness scared me. I became as cold the corpse lying at my feet. Now I had proof. For on this man’s forehead was a dark red ‘X’. Bigger and more sinister than those I had seen on the victims. A sign of the killer…
Thanks Katt, I've wrote about 12 more chapters at the moment, which works out at about a third of the book I reckon, and sure, I'd be happy to email it to you as soon as its finished =) x
oh by the way, when I used the words 'he' and 'him' and I was referring to the killer, they were meant to be in italics but it's changed it when I pasted it in here, that might make it make a bit more sense =)
Thanks Rougerambo =)
sure I could send it to you, but it's all rough at the moment as I'm in a process of editing all I have so far before continuing, so maybe it would be best to send you the edited version as soon as I've completed it.

I'm 14, in year 9 at school.
And yeah, I have MSN but I'm banned off it for at least 6 months lol

thats a great beggining keep at it, its not like alot of the other works ive read by people our age, it actually kept me intruiged and wanting to know more, is it possible you could email the 12 chapters too?

keep at it and id love to read more, you got msn?

p.s how old are you (im no pervert jsut to base your age and how good you are at writign, and how good you could be)

edit- there are still one or two bits that donbt quite flow but keep workign at it, i personally think about the third quarter of the script and the very very beginnign is the best