Dream Killer

By Craig Harrigan

A girl has been killed in the most brutal possible way. The police department are clueless. All they have to go on is a bloody boot print and a witness who claims to have seen a man leaving the crime scene at around the time of the murder.

The victim's father thinks the nerd, Michael Branson, did it. Just before her death, his daughter had dragged Michael in a one sided Twitter feud. One thing he has failed to consider is that Michael is incapable of murder. The worst he can do is lie for a witness who has decided not to come forward.

When a second person is killed across town, Michael realizes he knows exactly who is behind the killings. However he cannot tell anyone. It is a secret that will destroy him if he lets it out!

As the bodies pile up across town, he is brought face to face with his fears and is forced to make the hardest decision of all. The one that will destroy him, or end the murders.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Youcanprint
• Release date: Feb 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9791220321686

Book preview

thirteen

Chapter one

When he walked in, she was at her table, busy on her laptop, unaware that death had entered her apartment. Her fingers danced over the keys filling the screen with words. The PC held her attention completely.

She should have known that her time had come. She was after all bopping her head to The Reaper. The music poured out from the sound system that had been rigged up the wall.

Come on baby, don’t fear the reaper/ baby take my hand, don’t fear the reaper/ we’ll be able to fly, don’t fear the reaper/ baby I’m your man.

But he was not her man and there was no one else in the room. There would be nobody to give her a hand to take or to fly with her.

He stood for a while listening with a half-smile on his face. 6 feet and 5 inches of muscle carefully covered up in a thick black coat and a faded denim, he held a baseball bat to his side as he nodded slowly to the la-la-la-la-las of the Blue Oyster Cult.

At last he decided he had heard enough and walked up casually to where she sat. First his shadow fell across the table, draping itself over the book that lay open, next to the laptop, then death followed. It swung through air, hanging precariously onto the club that sought out her face.

The girl had no time to scream. One moment she was turning, twisting around, her eyes wide with alarm and her mouth hanging open in an o, the next moment she was falling sideways, pushed out of her chair by the impact of his blow. The chair tumbled over, after her, hitting the floor the same time she did. But it was not as damaged as she was.

Her nose was surely broken. It was dribbling a lot of blood. Her consciousness had drifted away too, for she lay there unmoving.

For a moment he stood over her listening hard. Wondering if anyone had heard. It was hard to know since the music filled his ears.

The bat rose into the air again and went down with force, wrenching out blood from her head. It spattered all over the linoleum staining it. But there was not a sound to be heard from her. She was already far gone. Yet he didn’t stop, instead he hit her again and again and again, until her head was an unrecognizable pulp.

It was only then that he stopped to catch his breath. It was coming in harsh gasps. It was done now. Exhilaration gripped him, making him laugh. He stepped back from the body and turned to leave. The bath in his hand dripped blood on the floor as he walked across the room, back to the door that had let him in.

The stairwell was empty. He paused at the door, waiting to see if anyone would come out. Back in the room The Reaper had come to its end. In its place, silence reigned, but only for a moment, before the first notes of the next song on her playlist floated to his ears. It was 50 Cent’s Many Men.

This girl seemed to have some affinity with death.

Shaking his head in wonder the man left her apartment. He treaded lightly on the stairs, yet went down fast. There were only two flights of stairs between him and the foyer and down there, there was not a living soul present to challenge him.

He walked out through the front door and went down the street, into the night. As he walked, he swung the bat absently mindedly, taking care to ensure that the blood on it did not stain him. He already had a bit on his shoes and trousers but that would not be a problem. They were not enough to get anybody’s attention. Besides he would get rid of them when he got back to his place.

Fortunately there was nobody in sight. But that was only to be expected. Everybody on this side of the planet was asleep, except for him and the moon which followed his every move with its soft light. The echo of his footfalls on the pavement was music to his ear. Unfortunately there was no voice to sing along to it and he couldn’t make it his voice. He would attract attention. That would be very much unwise.

Home was on the other side of the city, close to the campus. It was a studio apartment. That was the problem. There wasn’t as much privacy as he would have liked. His privacy started and ended in his room. Once he left that hallowed sanctuary, he would be