The Night Slasher Book 2: The Night Slasher

By Keifer

Told from different perspectives, The Night Slasher is a classic take on the cat-and-mouse game between witness and killer, but with a twist. On one side is a man desperate to assert his innocence and protect his mother, on the other is a monster who has crushing secrets and nothing to hide. Ensnared in a trap where the police just want to find the killer after twenty years of hunting, Kane struggles to assert his innocence and find the real culprit. 

Picking up where Book 1 left off, this novel tosses the reader right back into the thick of drama and danger. Kane finds himself in a room in the sewer, trying to fight his half-brother, the Night Slasher, who wants to kill him and his mother. But that's not the only thing Kane has to contend with. The water's rising fast, threatening to drown them within moments.

After a harrowing ordeal that Kane and his mother barely survive, he is once again forced to try to hunt down his brother before his brother kills again.   All the while fearing that his mother, recuperating in the hospital, will be attacked..  

The Night Slasher killings continue on the streets of San Francisco.  With each attempt, he grows more and more frustrated that Kane can thwart him, all the while the police are circling ever closer to catching him, and his escape is steadily slipping away. Can Kane stop his brother in time before he does something drastic? Or will he meet the same grisly end as all the other victims of The Night Slasher!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Keifer
• Release date: Dec 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201458171

Keifer

Keifer grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area.  He has received many awards for his numerous writings including fiction, non-fiction, and poetry.  He earned his Bachelors degree in business at California Polytechnic State University, San Luis Obispo, and an MBA at San Francisco State University.  Keifer has been a small business owner, a radio DJ, a manager, a paralegal, and a writer.  He continues to write many different types of books, novels, and poetry.  He currently lives in San Francisco.   

Book preview

Acknowledgement

Iam grateful to writer , and my first editor Anne Bravo for contributing so much to this book and the series.  I would also like to extend my appreciation to Lisa Yu for suggestions and advise on keeping the overall storyline together and making sense.  An extraordinary thanks are due to all of the individuals who gave their time to read and help edit the book. 

A very special thanks goes out to those of you that helped inspire the characters and all their various mannerism that made these personalities unique.  Contributors include Sandra Perrin, Leigh Ann Kleinsasser, Sean Salinas, Deseri Valdez, Ivey Lebron, Wendy Su, Lance McIntyre, and Suzanne McIntyre. 

I would like to thank the Mayo Clinic for helping me decipher all the research in mental psychology needed to figure out our main character if not all the characters. 

I would also like to acknowledge all my readers, who have stuck with me through this whole epic roller coaster of a saga.  A profound Thank You! 

Preface

First of all, thank you for reading this book.  You will not be a boring read.  This is a thriller.  This book was inspired by the alarming amount of murders in this world.  Many of them are repeat offenders.  I was intrigued to learn the differences between psychopaths, and sociopaths.  There are many more similarities than you may think.  I was also curious in what makes a killer a killer.  Is it inherent, or learned through experience?  This book will show you it’s a little bit of both. 

I originally started this book as an homage to my recently passed brother.  And I believe I have.  But it also morphed into a story about my also passed mother and my many friends who have left this world. 

I hope that this book entertains you, and you can somehow connect on an emotional basis.  There are a lot of characters in this story.  I would imagine that you will appreciate at least one of them.  And somehow come to an understanding of how our villain becomes a killer.  If you find that you cannot disassociate with the villain, I understand this as well. 

This book is violent, has acts of gruesome death, blood, gore, and implied rape.  With some people, this is completely reprehensible.  And some of it many victims’ sensibilities.  If any of these things are unobjectionable to you, put this book down now before reading further.  If a mystery chase of a cold-blooded killer is your thing, please read on. 

PART NINE

Sometimes when the wind is the highest,

and the night is the darkest,

and the air is the coldest,

there is sanctuary,

in the eye of the tempest.

We dare not move from this spot,

for it shall surely mean the return of the rein.

But in time, the tempest moves on,

and with it,

sanctuary.

We either find the strength to fight the storm,

or we fall at its feet.

Sanctuary left me long ago.

I face the storm everyday.

Sometimes I fall down.

But I always get back up.

I can see the edge of the tempest,

can you?  

A KILLER’S WORKLIFE

(The Night Slasher - Twenty Years Ago)

T hings really sucked there.  I am now seriously considering working for my friend down south, in a new venture.  It's not much, a startup, but it’s not here, which makes it well worth it.  Still looking around though.

I was talking to my girlfriend and trying to be normal.  It had been two months from the time I first ran over and killed the girl on the street then dumped her body in the Bay.  I felt as if I could somehow become a normal person again. 

Now that I am out of there, I can see even more what a horrible place it was, it is, over there.  I think it might be time to look for a good opportunity.  Look into finding something better.  You never know where it can lead.  I also hear the job market is better down south.  Life is too short to spend every day in misery.  You know, there were some days I could not get out of bed to go to work in that god awful place. 

She was cute.  I didn’t think much of her but thought she could help me find a new job.  I also thought she was good in bed.  So, there was no reason not to keep her around.  Besides, I could just kill her if she got out of hand.  I suddenly was daydreaming of the way I would feel with her blood all over me. 

You still with me?  She snapped her fingers in front of my face and smiled in a joking fashion.  I smiled back but was thinking of how much better I would feel with her fingers cut off. 

Yeah.  I put my burger down and shifted my attention back to the conversation.  So, I think I would enjoy a new job, any other job, much better.  A place where everyone is much more professional, and young.  And, you know, the weirdest thing, I could actually get recognition for the work I do.  What a concept.  I put my hands up, frustrated, but also trying to be just as jokingly.  I don't know why I wasted so much time working for such a lame company before.  I feel like it robbed me of two and a half years.  Going to work was such an ordeal for me.  That place is like a prison. 

I agree,  She said.  Comedy, if you think about it.  It was worse than a prison.  At least in jail they have cable, and you get fed in jail.  They have to put up with that whole jail rape thing, ‘butt’ I think I'm getting that done to me here as well.  Butt pun intended.

She giggled faintly. 

My friend can't afford to pay me that much in the beginning, bet he's got some good ideas, and thinks things will take off.  I was hopeful, but also did not want her to think I was leaving her.  Not yet.  I want to try it out first before committing.  Although I will take the commute and the hit in pay not to go through another job like the one I just left.  Like you said, I was wasting away there. 

It used to be good here.  She started to explain, then looked down at her food.  When I came on board, people had respect, and listened to me and my ideas.  Now I can't, couldn’t, even get a meeting to talk about stuff they actually need.  More reason to blame me for not getting things done when they were supposed to be completed six months ago. 

Anyway, as you can see, I am bitter.  But I find my life outside of those prison walls better.  I held her hand.  New girlfriend, new job, new place, new life.  Light at the end of the tunnel. 

Thanks! She said, It makes me feel better to think there is a bright future. 

I hate that place with a passion, I said.  I am angry that they stole over two years of my life.  I was really feeling discouraged, and angry.  All they do is find people to blame for their own insecurities.  I have never worked with more incompetent management in my life.  They are all old farts who can't make that kind of money anywhere but there.  I have now officially broken free.  I have saved my sanity! 

I am trying to focus on the good things outside of work. She was trying to dissuade me from another outburst.  I’ll tell you, I used to dream daily about walking out of there and quitting.  I still can't believe it, the day has finally come.  I completely cleaned out my desk.  There’s nothing in my cabinets or drawers.  Everything is sitting in a bag, waiting for me.  I’ve been prepared because I thought one day I was going to lose it and walk out of there and never go back.  Now it’s really true. 

Tell me how you really feel.  And don't sugar coat it so.  She was trying to be jovial again. 

Ok.  Her nose started to flare. The Company, the boss, fake friends, all those bastards can rot in hell.  But first I’d like to see sticks up their noses ‘til their eyeballs pop out.

I was starting to like this girl more and more. 

Something tells me that won’t be easy.  I was thinking of killing again.  And I guess it showed.  She looked at me questioning, but still had a smirk on her face as well.  I changed the subject.  I have a plan. 

What’s that?  She leaned in curiously. 

Whelp, that’s the tricky part. 

How tricky? 

Might need to do a little breaking and entering. 

Great.  She was still smiling.  I guess this is going to end up a permanent vacation from there anyway. 

I hope so.  I was starting to think long term.  I’ve got nothing to do.  I am unemployed now.

I got up and grabbed a beer from her refrigerator.  I opened it and gave it to her.  Which brings us full circle. 

Full circle? 

Yeah.  I looked at the beer and her.  All my stuff is at my desk in a backpack ready to go.  I can grab it all and be gone in 5 minutes. 

So we’re going back?  She thought.  To break in?  She stopped again.  This will be like payback for you.  Why aren’t you smiling? 

It might be crazy?  I questioned her, but still wondered if she would go along.  I found the words I thought might pique her curiosity. 

That is a major installation. She cautioned.  We can’t get in there without a badge at least.  And if we do get through all that security, all the alarms would have us surrounded by a million cops.  And call me crazy but I don’t think even you can get us out of that.  Not even if you were still working there." 

You might be right.  I tried to ease her worry.

I thought you were some kind of pencil pusher.  She was questioning if I had the courage. 

I am.  It’s just for a huge corporate company that has a huge contract with the government.  They can fire me like I was nothing.  But take away a cent from their million-dollar security system, wouldn’t hear of it. 

OK.  That wasn’t a little bitter.  She used my words on me and smiled even more. 

Sorry.  But that place worked me like a slave.  For not that much money.  And then they threw me to the curb like I was yesterday’s garbage. 

Yeah.  You’re bitter. 

Ok.  I sighed. 

But something tells me that this is not going to stop you from trying to get in.  She gave me the quirky eyebrow. 

So right you are.  I smiled knowing exactly what would happen. 

Why do I feel like I am going to regret this?  And she fell for it. 

WE DODGED THE SECURITY cameras and entered using her security card.  We had to cover some of the cameras with post it stickies.  She thought it was cute.  I thought it would hide what was to come perfectly.  Until the next day when security swept the building. 

They found her body spread out in the middle of the office they had both once worked for.  Parts of her could be found on everyone’s desk.  But most of the carnage was in the boss’s office.  At least that’s where the head landed.  Along with some internal organs the police could not identify the next morning when the body was found.  But the most horrifying part was the word ‘BITCH’ written in blood on the side of her glass office.  And below it a personal message ‘you’re next’ written in the same blood. 

Her executive assistant Sheila was mortified when she walked in the office.  She was still wrenching when the cops showed up.  They found her sitting outside the office crying and occasionally wailing.  Two patrol cops came to the scene and went inside.  Clearing the scene, the younger officer came out and threw up in almost the same spot as she did.  Stunned, he also thought of quitting the police force.  The job was supposed to be about helping people.  This is nothing like they said it would be.  The squad commander found him crying next to Sheila when she showed up. 

THE BOATS

(The Night Slasher - Ten Years Ago)

Ihad felt myself change , both mentally and physically since my first kill.  I didn’t really like all the killing at first, but I really hated anyone that didn’t believe in my mother’s ideals.  I hated them!  But I still believed in women.  Civil women.  I read all the books about how to deal with them.  I studied them like I was in school.  I worked at dealing with them at work.  At the coffee shop.  On the street.  I saw dignity, strength, and bravery in all their ways.  Still, some of them were not worth my time or patience.  Until the hunger came. 

Somehow, thinking back on those days helped me with what I had to do today.  Kill.  I was on my own home turf, where I can kill in my own special way. 

I had become an expert with the knife.  But I needed something better to complete my tasks here today.  I could pinpoint a target from a mile out and needed to be precise and quick.  I studied a lot of firearms until I knew all weapons, even some the military was testing now.  But those were too big and bulky for me.  I liked my special made 10 blade.  The 10 blade was specially crafted by a surgical tool manufacturer.  I bought a dozen of them.  The 10 blade was more precise, so I had the best one modified to fit my larger hands.  Finding this grip a better way to slash. 

I had to admit my ability to take a life with any weapon in less than a minute was very impressive for anyone, let alone all the practice I had as a mass murderer.  I was good at my job, and better with cutlery.  With a kitchen knife I could take a target's eye out from 40 feet.  I wouldn’t be using a blade now.  Although I kept a 10 blade snug in my belt in the small of my back, just in case.  Nor would I be using a gun either, even though there was a backup Glock 21 waiting in my car.  Ultimately, I could use my size and strength to take down anyone within seconds.  I would be using none of those skills today.  I wasn’t using any weapons today.  For this job I didn’t need any one of those. 

I liked the idea that I could use everything around me.  And use every given opportunity.  I knew the surroundings, and I could do this without any of the tools I usually fashioned for the job I was so often happy to do. 

For this kill I didn’t want the target to go out quietly.  I didn’t want that silent, slasher murder that I was so good at.  I wanted my target to go out with a bang.  Why, because it would hurt Kane more.  I was supposed to do what the passion had told me to do.  Revenges’ job was not to ask, its only job was to kill. 

It was about the show, the big production this time.  Sure, the voices, the commandment, and all the power that I felt wanted to make them all the big kill, with all of the blood.  They were no better than the rest, perhaps even much worse.  This was a special kill. 

It just so happened that there were other killers just like me.  Copycats.  Perhaps not as skillful, but deadly nonetheless.  Each one of them on their own mission.  Each one of them killing for their own voices they hear inside.  The Power.  They all knew who I was.  They all knew what I could do.  But today would be different.  Today I would show them all a lesson by killing one of Kane’s very own. 

I was on the San Francisco Bay.  The Bay that I had grown up with, a bay that I knew rather well.  At the bend of the Bay, where it doglegged just a few miles out I could just about see it now.  Over that dogleg there was a bridge.  Not used very much these days.  Ships from one end of the world to the other have increased in the last 20 years since I first killed.  The passage under the bridge seemed small in comparison to the billions of dollars in commerce flowing under the Golden Gate Bridge to the rest of the world.  It seemed that under this bridge you could only get one ship through at a time.  I was counting on this. 

The bridge was still as wide as it always was.  No cars.  It was usually used by bicyclists riding from one side to the other.  Most of them thinking they owned the road, Caltrans permanently shut down access for cars and motorcycles.  Taking the passage on the bridge as their way of owning the road. 

Analyzing the bridge, I knew what it was made of.  Some brick, some stone, some wood, and steel.  Built about 50 years ago, it was rebuilt to accommodate the traffic underneath, and the earthquakes that rattled the bay every once in a while.  Its history throughout the years never consisted of a simple walkway until it was rebuilt.  Cars, trucks, bikes and finally people, no longer crossing on a daily basis. 

The boat was not on an easy enough route to the bridge for me to predict when it was coming and going.  But the tracking device would change all of that.  Standard cargo for these types of ships included crates and containers full of boxes of spare parts, military supplies, illegal drugs, and sometimes, even women.  Things that needed to get around the world when and where they are needed, with no questions asked.  But today this boat had valuable cargo.  The party boat with all Kane’s friends celebrating some event.  Didn’t look like a wedding, but they were definitely drunk, happy, and flaunting their perfect little lives.  That would stop today. 

I checked and rechecked my calculations.  How would the bridge collapse?  I knew