It's Gonna Rain Tonight- A sequel to "I'm Not Losing Him"

Eighteen

[You've selected: Clues]

Warning: this chapter has a scene of horrific violence that goes into vulgar detail. Readers discretion is advised.

[Jack]

"Fine. We will spend two days on this and if we don't have a lead, we keep doing the fucking missions, ok?" Mark gave in, seeing the logic within my reasoning.
"Ok, let's do some profiling of the killer. Is this someone who wants to make a statement, or is this someone who is out for us and want to torture us?"
"Well, we need to take into account that the same kind of situation has occurred to us before; this isn't the first time someone has been kidnapped within the people that we know. Bob was on their side somehow, so I'm thinking that it's definitely someone that is out to get us." Mark explained.
"Ok, but what about the triangle slashes? What do they mean?"
"Not sure. I'm thinking it's right in our face, but I don't know what it could represent. I would think that is a trademark, which would mean that the killer is trying to make a name of themself. That doesn't really make sense."

"What if they are trying to tell us something?" I asked. "What if they're so confident that they made the triangle represent something that we know?"
"Oh my god." Mark blurted out. "The youtube play button!"
"You're right. The triangle is even sideways... how did we not notice it before? That must be it!"
"Well, let's not bank on it, but it could be a primary possibility. Now, let's focus more on the location he might be in. Have our missions had any link when it comes to location?"
"Um, I don't think so. What kind of place could he be in?" I grunted, frustrated with not being able to connect the dots.
"Well let's take a look at all the notes the killer has given us before."
As he said this, he spread all of previous notes on the table, and silently began to examine them. I attempted to do the same, but I felt as though he would have more luck with this kinda thing.
"They're all on the same type of paper. They're all postcards!"
"Ok, but what does that have to do with anything?" I interrogated, trying to figure out what he was getting at.
"He could've gotten these at the post office. And there's only one post office in town!"

"Isn't that a bit of a stretch?" I asked, eager that we had a potential lead, yet skeptic.
"Yeah, well, it's honestly all we've got right now. So let's at least try it."
"Alright. Hey, do you have a mailbox there?" I questioned.
"Yeah, why?"
"Just a thought. Let's go."

*****
[Chase]

I was going to try to escape that day. I had been able to figure out when and what times people would come to check up on me, and give me food. The plan was to knock a guy out with a bowl that Wade had given me for one of my meals. Then, use that extra time to search the jailor for any weapons or tickets out of here, then escape. The one day I had everything set in stone, was the day the schedule had changed.

A man I assumed to be behind it all walked up to me. A knife in one hand, and a camera in the other. I had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen to me, but I couldn't do anything about it. I needed to get out of there when the time was right, and I was sure that had I tried to escape then, I would've easily been detained in the matter of minutes, and probably killed. So I looked him dead in the eyes, and muttered, "Whatever you are planning to do, just do it."

Sure enough, the man did not hesitate. He took his sharp knife, and picked up my foot. I winced and turned away, yet I didn't struggle. No matter how I struggled, it wasn't going to help me, and it would please the man more if I cowered like a child.

The man held the knife firmly against my pinky toe, and slowly began to saw it away. I screamed in agony, trying to hide my pain, but no longer able to contain myself. I twisted and turned, and that only made him hack at my toe even slower. I felt blood trickle off of my my toe, even though it felt as if it was already off. I felt vomit make its way into my mouth, but I swallowed it, not wanting to give him even more satisfaction from my suffering.

It felt like forever before it was finally separated from my body. I looked at my foot, unable to move it from the shock I was in. Not being able to hold it back anymore, I vomited all over myself, the throw up thankfully not getting into the wound the man had left. After I had puked, the man lifted up his camera, along with my toe, and took a picture of me. This was the first time I had recalled him taking a picture of me, so I wondered what his sick agenda was. Regardless, he soon left me there to sit in not only my own vomit, but my own blood as well. Soon after, I blacked out, most likely from shock, or for some blood loss, or from just feeling like I was going to die.

I know it's been literally forever since I've written but I hope you guys haven't forgotten this story! I hope I've caught your interest again and I hope you continue to support me. I don't expect you to, but I appreciate you even just reading this. Thank you so much and I hope you have a great day