Whispers Of The Beginning

The source

If I wanted to know more about this killer I would have to look at none other than the book itself. Chester the pumpkin eater. When I asked the librarian about it she just looked at me funny and gave me the only copy from behind her desk. Ever since the murders took place they took all the books off the shelves. I turned the book in my hands, the cover was a creepy looking boy with a carved pumpkin for a head and a scare-crow like body. It was written by William Clide. I opened the book and read it "Chester the pumpkin eater was very lonely," I turned the page "He liked to have friends to play, but he had ate all his friends last week" I turned the page and the picture of the boy now had dark ink like liquid coming from the mouth and eyes of the pumpkin head, he was in a dark room and he seemed huge compared to the hay bails and such around the i'm assuming farm. "What kind of children's book..." I read on and it explained how Chester would then go on to 'share' with the other kids by biting off their arm and replacing his scarecrow one with it. Or how to play nice by strangling a kid until he 'went to sleep' Finally I couldn't bare to read it anymore and put it on the table "Do you know this guy's address?" I asked the lady. She typed on her computer and it took a while but she was able to print out the address of William Clide, the creator of this messed up thing.

I stopped by the apartment and saw Jean already there. "Oh hey, sorry I can't stop in for long, I was just getting a few things" Jean raised an eyebrow "Where're you going?.." I got an extra pencil and slid on my trench coat "Oh uh, going to the Chester book writer's place to ask some questions" Jean looked away and muttered. "What's up?" "It's nothing, don't worry about it" "Well ok" I turned and closed the door behind me.

I knocked on the door and an old man who looked about 80 opened the door and grumbled "MILDRED, WE HAVE A GUEST" He shouted so suddenly I thought my ears were ringing "Uh Mr Clide i'm a detective and-" "Bah! All the cops and hooligans runnin around! What do ya want? Money? Here! I got plenty!" This would be troubling.. "No, No sir I just want to talk to you about your book 'Chester the pumpkin eater' for a minute" With one light blue eye he looked at me up and down "Are you a critic?" "No, sir" "Bah! Then come in!" I stepped inside and the smell of smoke caught my attention "Do..you or your wife smoke, sir?" "No it's our damn cat!" "uh huh.." That was very unlikely. William hobbled around his coffee table, I put my hands in my pockets and looked around the living room. Starting from the door there was a hanging light in the middle of the ceiling that had probably hit people's heads a lot. In front of me was the entrance of the kitchen, where I could see a large circle-like table with three chairs sat neatly around it, one being occupied by an old woman with her grey hair up and a pink robe on. I saw pictures hanging along the wall on my left by the hallway that I assumed led to their room. A very proud looking young man with his beautiful young wife, but there were two children who looked identical with their father and mother's hands on their shoulders each. "Hey so about those pictures" William wobbled his way over to them and pointed with a wrinkly finger at the family portrait "THIS OLD THING?!" "Sir it's not that far you don't have to yell" He took it from the wall and made his way back over to me "Here see?" I looked at the picture more closely and at the bottom the date read '1987' which means the two boys would be 17 or 18 now. But beside that were the names, Mildred Clide, William Clide, Jean Clide, and John Clide. Identical twins. "Sir, is this a photo of you, your wife and.." "our two sons? OF COURSE!" "Just wanting to make sure," I wrote in my notebook, 'Jean Clide had an identical twin John Clide, their father wrote the book 'Chester the pumpkin eater' which seems to be the motive of the recent murders' "Now can you tell me about the book? What was your motive for it, why did you direct the cover pictures to be kind of cartoony for kids?" William sat down on the brown leather couch and rubbed his head "I don't remember why I wrote it when I was young lad, I had issues then. I don't recall if I even put it out for everyone to see. All I know is both my sons took off in a week once they read it, poor boys...I haven't seen John since. But Jean came back to us and told us everything...but he left again.." "And that was?" "Jean explained that John had plans for them to run away...show people their dad wasn't a crazy hoot for writing a book so sinister..But when John pushed them both to steal Jean came back to us, leaving John on his own path.." I noticed sorrow and regret in William's glassy blue eyes, he must have had a lot of guilt after that. I closed my notebook and looked at him, "I'll solve these murders, and after that I'll find your other son." I turned to leave but said one last thing "Sir, Jean is in good hands now. I'm not sure if you know it but I'm sure he'll come back to you someday" I thought I could see a smile on William's face before I closed the door, trapping all the smoke and dust in the ancient place.