Randy caught up with the rest of the Super Six (God, he still hated that nickname) at the hospital. Their trap hadn't worked and Gale had been attacked. At the moment, they were all in the waiting room, waiting for Gale to get out of surgery. As they waited, Tanner gave Sam a tip, "The next time you have the drop on a deranged serial killer, maybe don't blow the element of surprise by shouting "Hey!" until after you've shot him. Or, at least, until after you have the gun in your hands."
"When can we see Mindy and Annika?" Randy asked the man at the desk. The man shrugged, "We just sent someone to check up on them and make sure they're ready for visitors. He should be back any minute now."
"Mindy's not returning my texts," Chad said, sounding worried. Randy put an arm around his friend's shoulder comfortingly, "Hey, I'm sure she's just asleep. It's not like she got any rest last night. She must be exhausted."
Suddenly, sirens wailed and lights flashed as several hospital employees ran by. Randy turned to the man behind the desk, his formerly happy expression now overwritten with fear and concern, "What does that mean!?"
"It means someone was attacked," the man admitted, gulping. Chad turned to Randy, "Where are they?"
"Follow me," Randy took off down the hall, sprinting faster than Tom Cruise in a Mission Impossible movie. Slowing down to turn the corner, Randy came to a complete stop as he saw the orderlies at the familiar door, the bloody red streaks on the floor standing out against the white tile.
Two blood-stained white sheets had been placed over two corpses in an attempt to obscure them from sight. They weren't very successful, since Randy could still recognize the bodies of Mindy and Anika. Randy turned to Chad, who had gone whiter than a sheet, and said, "I'm so sorry."
Chad didn't say anything. He just stood, frozen, staring at his sister's body.
Tanner jogged down the hall, closely followed by Tara and Sam. He looked at Randy quizzically, but the younger brother just looked at the ground and shook his head. Tanner's face saddened as he slowed to a stop, giving his brother a hug. Randy hugged his brother back, and they only broke away from each other when Tara muttered, "Oh my God... Mindy."
"Tara, Sam, I'm so sorry," Tanner said. He nudged his brother to get him to say something similar, but Randy's eyes were fixed on something over Tanner's shoulder. Turning around, the older brother could see the thing that troubled Randy so deeply. About six feet off the ground at the sight of the murders, written in blood, were three words:
I TOLD YOU
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It didn't take long for the police to arrive, although it took slightly longer for their ME to get there. On his way into the hospital, Dr. Mallard could see Randy Becker standing in the waiting room, comforting a friend who, judging by his facial structure, was the twin brother of one of the victims.
"Mister Palmer, if you would, could you please take our instruments to the crime scene?" Dr. Mallard asked, "I need to speak with Mr. Becker."
"Of course, doctor," Jimmy responded, looking sadly over at the group of grieving teens, "Poor people. They're just kids, and they've seen way, way too much."
"Indeed," Dr. Mallard agreed, "but we can help them by catching this killer, hopefully before he takes another victim."
Sighing sadly, the good doctor walked towards Randy as Jimmy Palmer headed deeper into the bowels of the hospital. As Dr. Mallard grew nearer, Randy caught sight of him. The young man stood up and walked over to the doctor, meeting him halfway, "Dr. Mallard, I guess you'll be the one doing the autopsy?"
"Indeed I will," the doctor said, "I hope you know your friends will be treated with the utmost respect. Are there any religious customs I should observe on either of them?"
"No. No, I don't think so," Randy shook his head, "but their families would know better than me."
"Indeed they would," Dr. Mallard admitted before asking, "Would you care to join me at the crime scene?"
"What?" Randy asked, "Is that even legal?"
"Well, it's not illegal," Dr. Mallard smirked (somehow in a very British way), "especially if I invite you. So long as you wear gloves and are careful not to touch anything, you're welcome to join me. Although, I'm afraid, I can only bring one of you. Your friends will have to stay here."
"If you can just let me go tell them where I'm going, I'll come," Randy said, hurrying over to his friends and explaining the situation. Dr. Mallard watched as they seemed to agree, each saying goodbye, although the shorter girl with the dark hair rested her hand on his, where there seemed to be some kind of connection.
Suppressing the urge to smile roguishly, Dr. Mallard waited patiently as Randy jogged back over. When the young man reached him, the good doctor handed him a pair of latex gloves, "Here you go, Mr. Becker. Don't want you contaminating the crime scene, do we?"
"If the killer even left behind any evidence," Randy said, "They haven't before unless it was on purpose. Why start now?"
"We always get something, if only from the, um... method of murder," Dr. Mallard said, trying (and failing) to comfort his new acquaintance, "And rest assured, everyone slips up eventually."
"Ghostface always does," Randy admitted, "but not before taking a fair few people with him, too."
"Then let us go make sure this "Ghostface" does not take any more," Dr. Mallard ushered the young man down the hallway with him, eventually coming to the scene of the crime. Jimmy Palmer, was looking down at a clipboard as he walked out of the room, saying, "Well, Dr. Mallard, I'm afraid they disturbed the crime scene. The hospital staff covered up the bodies with- Oh, hello, Mr. Becker."
"I brought him along to see how this was done," Dr. Mallard offered an explanation. He continued, winking at Randy, "He seemed quite interested in the art of the autopsy."
Randy smiled, then actually thought about it. He hadn't really settled on a career path yet (he was just taking basic classes this year at college to fill out credit while he made up his mind) and he supposed being a Medical Examiner was as likely as anything else. Palmer smiled at Randy, "Are you really? That's amazing! I'm Jimmy, by the way."
Jimmy stuck out his hand and Randy shook it, "Nice to meet you. And please call me Randy."
"Oh, sure," Jimmy agreed. Dr. Mallard, upon walking into the room behind his assistant, seemed a bit more serious. He asked, "Do you think you can stomach being in the room, Mr. Becker?"
"Yeah," Randy nodded, "I've dealt with dead bodies before. I think I can stomach it."
"If you say so," Dr. Mallard got down on his hands and knees, pulling the blood-stained sheet off. Randy got down beside him, making sure to keep his hands out of the pool of drying blood. After several seconds of investigation, Dr. Mallard said, "Well, this is interesting."
"What?" Randy asked. Anything that distracted him from the gash in Mindy's neck and the hole in the back of her skull was a good thing. Dr. Mallard leaned in closer, "This slash took place first, cutting the vocal cords so Ms. Meeks-Martin couldn't scream for help. The stab to the back of the skull was just as targeted but much more lethal. There's almost no way she could have survived that.
"It seems that the killer was brutally effective, but not vicious," Dr. Mallard observed. Randy gawked, "Not vicious?"
"The killer didn't torment his victim, he killed her quickly, almost as if he took no joy from the matter," Dr. Mallard defended. Jimmy (who was observing Anika's... well, Randy didn't want to think about that right now) observed, "It's the same over here, doctor. The killer slit the second victim- I mean, Ms. Kayoko's throat. She didn't feel a thing. Then there's the literal writing on the wall."
"Yes, I noticed that," Dr. Mallard said, "Mr. Becker, I'm also a psychological examiner, so this wouldn't necessarily be part of an ME's duties, but I would guess this was some kind of warning. The question is, why did the killer leave it, and to whom?"
"It's not a warning, it's a promise," Randy corrected, "The killer left it for me. He said he was going to kill everyone I love. I'd bet that if I'd been able to see what was happening in here, the killer wouldn't have been so "merciful." He seems to get off on torturing me."
"Then let's consider it a blessing that you weren't here," Dr. Mallard muttered before continuing, "Judging by the angles of the slashes, this was the same person who killed Ms. Chase the night before last, but it was definitely not the same person who attacked you last night. While Detective Bailey may have asked specifically that his daughter not be autopsied, the family of the deceased man found in the bath tub had no such reservations.
"Whoever attacked you last night, was a different killer from all of those responsible for the other bodies I've autopsied," Dr. Mallard admitted, "Which means we have three killers on the loose."
"Great," Randy muttered, "I had really hoped that was a one-time thing, like with Roman Bridger being the only single Ghostface killer."
"Apparently not," Dr. Mallard said, getting back on track with the autopsy, "Now, we shan't need to take the liver temperature, as video of when the killer entered will give us a much more precise estimation than deductions by body temperature."
"How does that work, exactly?" Randy asked, genuinely curious. Dr. Mallard continued performing the on-the-spot autopsy as he answered, "Well, since humans are warm-blooded, our temperature is typically higher than that of the environment around us. After death, the body begins to slowly cool, matching the room temperature around it. By measuring the temperature of the liver, as well as that of the place of death, we can calculate about to what hour the murder took place.
"Usually, this is used for bodies found hours after death, not mere minutes," Dr. Mallard stood up, "Well, that's about all I can do here. Come, Mr. Palmer, shall we get these young ladies on their way?"
"Just a moment, if you would, Dr. Mallard," one of the hospital staff interrupted, "We have video of the killer entering the room."
"And, thus, an approximate time of death?" Dr. Mallard asked. The woman nodded, "Yes, doctor. The killer entered at 8:45 and left five minutes later. The thing is, they entered in a Ghostface costume and left in a nurse's outfit."
"Any idea what nurse?" Dr. Mallard asked. The staff member shook her head, "No clue. They had an ID badge that we identified, but the person it belonged to reported it stolen several days ago."
"I'm guessing part of the nurse's outfit was a mask and cap that covered many of their distinguishing features," Dr. Mallard asked. The woman nodded, "but we were able to get a bit of information nonetheless. The killer is a caucasian female, about six feet tall, and is left-handed."
"What about eye or hair color?" Dr. Mallard asked, "Or a limp or physical tick of some kind?"
"She wasn't limping, and there was no tick I could see," the lady shook her head, "She left almost immediately, so I didn't see much anyways. As for eye and hair color, she had a cap that covered her hair and glasses that obscured her eyes and eyebrows."
"Big glasses," Jimmy noted, "Well, doctor, I do believe it's time to get back to autopsy."
"Right you are, Mr. Palmer," Dr. Mallard agreed. He turned to Randy, "You needn't watch any further, my boy. Just remember the description of the killer, and be on the lookout. I hope that, by the next time we see each other, this problem will be well behind you."
"Thanks, Dr. Mallard," Randy walked towards the door and back towards his friends, "thanks for everything.
"Oh, you're quite welcome," Dr. Mallard said. He looked around, checking to make sure no one was looking in, before he whispered (just loud enough for Randy to hear), "And good luck."
Smirking, Randy jogged down the hall, eventually reaching the waiting area where... only his brother sat on the couch. As Randy slowed to a regular walk, Tanner stood up, "They headed back to the theater. They're planning to trap the killers there and finish them off. I stayed behind to let you know."
"Okay," Randy sighed, accepting the fact that his friends were rushing ahead without really thinking things through, "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"
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"Strange, isn't it?" Tanner asked, looking at a map of the subway system of Manhattan. Randy looked over from the passing subway cars to his brother, "What's strange?"
"That the station where we need to switch trains is also the station closest to your apartment," Tanner stated, "We're only a little over a block away."
"Yeah," Randy agreed without really listening (he was focused on someone in a Ghostface costume walking by them), "Weird."
Since it was Halloween night, nearly every person in the station was dressed in some sort of costume. Randy could see Freddy Krueger, a Pinhead, Michael Myers, and even two or three Jasons (from Friday the 13th). Of course, the ones that were the most numerous were the ones that had him most worried: the twenty or so Ghostfaces that filled the subway.
You couldn't have thrown a stone in the station without hitting someone dressed in a creepy white mask and sparkly robe.
The thing was, Randy couldn't just go attack all of them. Most of them were innocent people dressed as their favorite character. Only one or two (or maybe even three) could be the real killer(s). So, for now, he had to watch and wait. One particular Ghostface caught his attention.
This particular costumed individual walked in a circuitous path that seemed to be going towards Randy and Tanner. They were about six feet tall and- And their left hand was hidden within the folds of the robe, most likely holding on to the all-too-familiar knife!
"Um, Tanner," Randy nudged his brother with his foot, "I think we should run for it."
"What? Why?" Tanner asked before his eyes fell on the approaching Ghostface, "Oh."
Without a word the killer lunged, wielding his- (no, wait- her) -knife in her left hand. She slashed at Tanner, but the older brother had hopped forwards, out of reach. Screams and shouts echoed through the station as people caught on to what was happening. Deciding to head for the nearest place the killer couldn't get, the two brothers ran forwards, diving through the doors as they began to close. As he ran, Randy said, "I think this is our train, Tanner!"
The regular people in this car (understandably) began to freak out. They rushed through the doors on the other side of the car, where they were picked up by the motion sensors that kept the doors from closing. With the doors remaining open a little longer than Randy and Tanner had planned, Ghostface managed to squeeze herself through just in time, trapping Randy and Tanner in the same car as her as the subway began to move. Randy summed up his feelings about the situation in one simple word, "Fuck."
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Tara looked nervously at the clock on her phone. Judging by the time Randy had texted her, saying he was on his way to the theater, and how long it had taken them to get here, Randy and Tanner definitely should have been here by now. Ethan sat not too far away from her and noticed the anxious look on her face, "Is everything okay?"
Obviously it wasn't. They were waiting in a now-dead killer's lair to trap and kill another killer who was trying to kill Sam, Randy, and everyone they loved. Things were very very far from okay.
"Randy and Tanner should have been here by now," she admitted, "Do you think something happened to them?"
"No way," Ethan shook his head, certain in his belief they were fine, "I'm sure their train is just running late or something. Maybe asshole reporters found them and won't let them leave. I'm sure they're fine."
"Yeah," Tara nodded, still unable to shake the gloom of fear that clouded her thoughts, "Yeah, I'm sure I'm right."
Tara walked away, leaving Ethan to stew in his own thoughts. He was sure that Randy and Tanner hadn't been attacked, because that hadn't been part of the plan. His father and sister were supposed to wait for everyone to be at the theater before entering themselves. Quinn was going to take care of Kirby, while Dad was supposed to come in, earn Sam's trust, then disarm her before the killing started. Attacking Randy and Tanner before they even got here definitely wasn't a part of the plan. Then again, neither had been the killing of that girl on the roof, or the death of Mindy and Annika in the hospital.
Was it possible...? Could someone else entirely be trying to get revenge on Randy Becker while the Kirsch's were trying to get revenge on Sam and Tanner? There was no way... right?
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Tanner ducked under the killer's first attack, leaning forward and tackling her around the waist. Ghostface fell to the floor with a grunt as the knife was knocked from her hand, skittering across the floor. Randy slammed his foot down, keeping the weapon stuck in place so the killer couldn't get her hands back on it. Now weaponless, Ghostface struggled with Tanner on the ground, eventually kicking him off.
Ghostface got back to her feet and turned toward Randy (who had snatched the knife up and was brandishing it like the weapon it was). She tilted her head and said in the altered voice, "I told you what I was going to do. There's no stopping me. First your acquaintance, then your friends, and now..."
Ghostface rushed forward, yanking the knife out of Randy's hand. An uppercut to the jaw sent the young man spinning, and by the time he'd regained his balance, Ghostface rushed over to Tanner continuing her statement, "Your brother!"
Tanner gasped in pain as the knife was stabbed between the ribs on his right side. Ghostface let go of the knife and Tanner fell to the floor, blood leaking from his torso. The killer turned around to see a horrified Randy who'd frozen on the spot.
"Just one more, then I finally kill you," Ghostface said as the train pulled into the station. She said one more thing before running through the open doors and hiding in the crowd. One thing that chilled Randy to the bone: "I hope you enjoyed your time with your girlfriend while you had it, because you're not getting any more."
Once the killer had disappeared amongst the crowd, Rand rushed toward his brother, shouting, "Help! Help! Someone, please, call 911!"
"On it," a random person by the doors (who, funnily enough, was wearing a Ghostface costume) agreed. He pulled out his phone and dialed quickly. Once the operator had picked up, he said, "Hello, yeah, someone was stabbed on the subway..."
Randy stopped paying any attention to him. Instead, he pulled off his sweatshirt and wrapped it around the knife in the wound. He couldn't pull the weapon out, since it was staunching the bleeding. However, it still needed more bandaging. Tanner held the sweatshirt against his torso, gasping in pain. He leaned forward and said, "Go."
"What?" Randy asked, "What the hell do you mean, go?
"I mean, go," Tanner said, "I'll be okay. You need to go help everyone else. This was our stop, anyways."
Randy was about to interject, but he stopped, thought for a second, then asked, "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," Tanner nodded, "I'm sure."
"Can you look after him until the paramedics arrive?" Randy asked a woman covered in prosthetic cuts (she seemed to be a character from one of the later Stab movies), who was with the "Ghostface" on the phone. The woman nodded, scratching one of the apparently itchy prosthetics, "Yeah, I guess... Where are you going?"
Randy was about to answer when he noticed the white, putty like substance on the woman's fingernails. Randy raised a hand, pointing at it, "What's that?"
"You mean the prosthetic putty?" she asked, confused. Randy's eyes widened, "Fuck."
Randy took off, running across the subway station and up the stairs. He sprinted across the sidewalk and pulled out his phone. He dialed Terra's number, but she didn't pick up. Knowing it would be useless to call her again (if she didn't pick up on the first call in a situation like this, spamming her wouldn't do anything), he left a message, "Tara, I know who the killers are! Call me back, now!"
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So, even though I blew through all of Spider-Man 2 this week, I somehow managed to write a complete chapter. I hope you enjoy, cause the last chapter is coming out next week on Halloween!
Best Wishes,
GameknightJ14