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According to Brian Wilson, the song was going to be a long, eerie whine which would start out small and slowly build into a giant conflagration of sound that would create vivid pictures of raging infernos in the mind of the listener. The song was inspired by two events.
The first was the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, which was allegedly started by a cow owned by a Mrs. Catherine O'leary that accidentally kicked over a lantern while she was milking it.The fire then slowly built into a gigantic, raging inferno that was responsible for hundreds of deaths and the destruction of almost all of the city of Chicago.
The second event was Brian Wilson's second experiment with the drug LSD. Instead of the spiritual experience he was hoping for, his LSD trip served up a "horror movie" that began with the sound of sirens from nearby fire trucks. Brian imagined being consumed by flames and dying.
In his own words:"...I was bathed in flames, dying, dying, and then the screen inside my brain went blank. I visualized myself drifting back in time. Getting smaller and younger."
Brian relived arguments he'd had with his father. He continued to drift back in time. "I continued getting smaller. I was a baby. An infant. Then I was inside the womb. An egg. And then, finally, I was gone. I didn't exist."
Did Brian Wilson lose his ego during this experience? Was this ego-death? Only Brian knows for sure. But in any case it seems likely that such questions must have entered Brian's mind at this point.
Looking back on the song, Brian Wilson made this peculiar statement, "The chords were weird, sick, not the straight eight. I ran the miniorchestra through twenty-four takes before I was satisfied. Still, during each version, I thought, Oh God, I'm flipping out to have written such stuff. The weirdest was the crash and crackle of instruments smoldering for the final time. Listening to the playback, I began to feel unnerved by the music, strange and eerie. I liked the music. But it scared me."
Congratulations to the following choir students who were chosen to sing in the 2015 Opus Honor Choirs: Abigail Lincoln- soprano, in the 7/8 Treble Choir, Grace Kiple, alternate 1 alto in the 9th Grade Mixed Choir. The concert will be held in CY Stephens Auditorium at 4:00 p.m. on Thursday, November 19th. Nice job girls!
Parent Teacher Conferences will be on Tuesday, October 27th and Thursday, October 29th. SBL Schools will again use the MyConferenceTime Electronic Scheduler to schedule conferences. Please click on the following link to sign up for Parent Teacher Conferences. https://www.myconferencetime.com/sblschools/ Sergeant Bluff-Luton High School is proud of the educational experience we provide our students. Our dedicated staff is committed to promoting higher levels of learning and achievement for all students. We hope you find our homepage useful and invite your comments and If you have any questions concerning programming an plans for the upcoming year, please do contact me.
The Primary School staff wants school to be a positive, successful, safe, and rewarding experience for each child. We believe this is best accomplished through a commitment to effective instructional practice; engaging, relevant learning opportunities; and a collaborative partnership with families and community stakeholders.
I’d be happy to give you a tour, answer any of your questions, or just sit down and visit…my door is always open.
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SBL High School 2015-16
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The devil will soon escape from his prison. Pandora’s Box will be opened, and the monster of the Apocalypse will arise. Make sure that Cthulhu stays sleeping, or it will be bad for the humans. I like green.
The SB-L Middle School offers the following extra-curricular opportunities which are governed by local and state guidelines where applicable. Opportunities for 7th and 8th grade students, per state guidelines, include football, volleyball, cross country, cheerleading, boys/girls basketball, wrestling, track, and soccer. Students in grades 6th-8th can find various opportunities within the fine arts (band and choir) arena, the Archery Club, Fellowship for Christian Athletes (FCA), and Student Council to name a few. Iowa Athletic Association guidelines prohibit sixth grade students from participation in middle school/state sponsored athletics but the Sergeant Bluff Parks and Recreation Department offers a WIDE range of activities for students starting as early as four years old in some area. Fine arts opportunities are available to all students in grades sixth through eighth.
As a school community, we enthusiastically share a commitment to ensuring learning for all students, utilizing best practices for teaching and learning, and fostering excellence in student achievement.
Sergeant Bluff-Luton will play host to the first round of the Iowa High School Athletic Association playoffs. Sergeant Bluff-Luton will host Spencer on Wednesday, October 28, 2015 starting at 7:00 p.m. Admission to the game is $6.00 for adults and students. This is a state sponsored event and No passes will be allowed.
· PHONE: (712) 943-5561
The Primary School staff wants school to be a positive, successful, safe, and rewarding experience for each child. We believe this is best accomplished through a commitment to effective instructional practice; engaging, relevant learning opportunities; and a collaborative partnership with families and community stakeholders. Anime (Japanese: アニメ?, [anime] ( listen)), also informally romanized as animé, are Japanese animated productions featuring hand-drawn or computer animation. In Japan, the word refers to all animation, being a shortened form of the rōmaji animēshon("animation"). Outside Japan, the meaning of the word anime can vary slightly; definitions include animation from Japan or, alternatively, a Japanese-disseminated animation style often characterized by colorful graphics, vibrant characters and fantastical themes. Arguably, the stylization approach to the meaning may open up the possibility of anime produced in countries other than Japan. For simplicity, many Westerners strictly view anime as an animation product from Japan. Some scholars suggest defining anime as specifically or quintessentially Japanese may be related to a new form of orientalism.
Anime is a diverse art form with distinctive production methods and techniques that have been adapted over time in response to emergent technologies. The production of anime focuses less on the animation of movement and more on the realism of settings as well as the use of camera effects, including panning, zooming, and angle shots. Diverse art styles are used and character proportions and features can be quite varied, including characteristically large emotive or realistically sized eyes.
The anime industry consists of over 430 production studios including major names like Studio Ghibli, Gainax, and Toei Animation. Despite comprising only a fraction of Japan's domestic film market, anime makes up a majority of Japanese DVD sales. It has also seen international success after the rise of English-dubbed programming. This rise in international popularly has resulted in non-Japanese productions using the anime art style, but these works are usually described as anime-influenced animation rather than anime proper.
Anime are often classified by target demographic, including kodomo (children's), shōjo (girls'), shounen (boys') and a diverse range of genres targeting an adult audience. Shoujo and shounen anime sometimes contain elements popular with children of both sexes in an attempt to gain crossover appeal. Adult anime may feature a slower pace or greater plot complexity that younger audiences typically find unappealing, as well as adult themes and situations.:44–48 A subset of adult anime works feature pornographic elements and are labeled "R18" in Japan, but internationally these works are grouped together under the term hentai (Japanese for "pervert"). By contrast, a variety of anime subgenres across demographic groups incorporate ecchi, sexual themes or undertones without depictions of sexual intercourse, as typified in the comedic or harem genres; due to its popularity among adolescent and adult anime enthusiasts, incorporation of ecchi elements in anime is considered a form of fan service.:89
Anime's genre classification is different from other types of animation and does not lend itself to simple identity.:34 Gilles Poitras compared the labeling Gundam 0080 and its complex depiction of war as a "giant robot" anime akin to simply labeling War and Peace a "war novel".:34 Science fiction is a major anime genre and includes important historical works like Tezuka's Astro Boy and Yokoyama's Tetsujin 28-go. A major subgenre of science fiction is mecha, with the Gundam metaseries being iconic.:35 The diverse fantasy genre includes works based on Asian and Western traditions and folklore; examples include the Japanese feudal fairytale InuYasha, and the depiction of Scandinavian goddesses who move to Japan to maintain a computer called Yggdrasil in Oh My Goddess!.:37–40 Genre crossing in anime is also prevalent, such as the blend of fantasy and comedy in Dragon Half, and the incorporation of slapstick humor in the crime anime Castle of Cagliostro.:41–43 Other subgenres found in anime include magical girl, harem, sports, martial arts, literary adaptations, medievalism, and war.:45–49
The word laser started as an acronym for "light amplification by stimulated emission of radiation". In modern usage, the term "light" includes electromagnetic radiation of any frequency, not only visible light, hence the terms infrared laser, ultraviolet laser, X-ray laser, and so on. Because the microwave predecessor of the laser, the maser, was developed first, devices of this sort operating at microwave andradio frequencies are referred to as "masers" rather than "microwave lasers" or "radio lasers". In the early technical literature, especially atBell Telephone Laboratories, the laser was called an optical maser; this term is now obsolete.
A laser that produces light by itself is technically an optical oscillator rather than an optical amplifier as suggested by the acronym. It has been humorously noted that the acronym LOSER, for "light oscillation by stimulated emission of radiation", would have been more correct. With the widespread use of the original acronym as a common noun, optical amplifiers have come to be referred to as "laser amplifiers", notwithstanding the apparent redundancy in that designation.
The back-formed verb to lase is frequently used in the field, meaning "to produce laser light," especially in reference to the gain medium of a laser; when a laser is operating it is said to be "lasing." Further use of the words laser and maser in an extended sense, not referring to laser technology or devices, can be seen in usages such as astrophysical maser and atom laser.
“Because they're cute.”
“I choose you...”
“Rattata I choose you!”
“I love robot”
Zalgo is an internet phenomena and a meme-status urban legend often seen as the personification of chaos and evil, in a similar fashion to the later adaptations of Lovecraft (the earlier Lovecraftian literature however did not have "evil" and "good" - due to Lovecraft's nihilistic thinking).
In his right hand is the Candle Whos Light is Shadow. In his right he holds a dead star. His left hands are stained with the blood of Am Dhaegar. -Invocation of Zalgo
Zalgo is depicted as a jet-skinned knight in silver armor surrounded by a corona of black lightning.
However, his true form is much more horrific. He is described as having seven mouths speaking in six foul tongues, the seventh singing the song that will end the world, and four arms holding a Black Hole and a candle that sheds darkness rather than light. Am Dhaegar may have been an ancient city, another entity like himself, or anything else, up to and including an entire universe. He is also described as an amorphous, eyeless being. As Zalgo is malevolent chaos incarnate, both descriptions may be true.
Mermaimon is an Ultimate Level Digimon that resembles a black mermaid, with a anchor-like scythe.
In Episode 40 "Day of Destiny", the Sailor Scouts were on their way to the Negaverse through its possibleentrance to fight Queen Beryl. When Queen Beryl asks her Youma subjects which of them would like to dispose of the Sailor Scouts and earn their place in Negaverse history, the Doom and Gloom Girls appear and volunteer for the job. They tried to trick Sailor Moon by disguising themselves as Tuxedo Mask, trapped, and nearly succeeded in trapping Sailor Moon, even though the others knew it was a trick. They then tricked Sailor Jupiter into thinking that they were Andrew, and then they trapped her with metal wires. They pulled her into a hole, presumably killing her, but not before she destroyed two of them (the red one and the blue one) with Jupiter Thunder Crush.
Their next target was Sailor Mercury. The three remaining Doom and Gloom Girls disguised themselves as Greg, but she was able to see through the illusion. But they managed to trap her anyway and presumably kill her, but not before Mercury destroyed the crystal on one of the girls that allowed her to create the illusions in the first place. Afterwards, they attempted to get Sailor Moon from under the ground, but she was pushed out of the way by Sailor Venus, who was trapped instead. She managed to kill the pink one with a Venus Crescent Beam Smash to the face, before apparently dying herself.
Afterwards, the two remaining girls captured Sailor Mars in a huge pile of rubble, where she destroyed them with Mars Fire Ignite, but was presumably also destroyed by them.
After the death of Queen Beryl and the Negaforce, the four Sailor Scouts reappeared, with their memories of being Sailor Scouts erased just like Serena. However, their memories would later return in Sailor Moon R when a new threat emerges.
The Huntress was a female Iktotchi assassin who operated in the years following the end of the New Sith Wars. An impeccable record of success saw the Huntress employed by Lucia, a bodyguard working for the royal house of the planet Doan. After efficiently honoring her contract with Lucia, the Huntress was then hired by the bodyguard's charge, Princess Serra, to track down Darth Bane, the only surviving Dark Lord of the Sith of the war of twenty years prior.
The night had started off very normally. Around ten at night, Tyler had knocked on my back porch glass sliding door. I let him in, and for two hours we had played video games. We decided we would sneak out as we often did, and go to the grocery store. It was a chilly Saturday night as we stepped out of my house, hopped over my fence, and proceeded to the store. We bought two Monsters and a bag of chips. We sat at the empty employee smoker table outside. In the middle of talking, an unfamilliar teenager walked towards us. He asked my cousin for a cigarette. He sat with us and began a conversation; we immediately hit it off as friends.
Justin was his name. Tyler, and I would meet up with him every night around the same time. He was an interesting guy. He was homeless, but he was always happy. We had snuck him into my house a few times where he slept in my basement in the month we knew him. I met with Justin, and treated him to some doughnuts. I wasn't able to sneak him into my house this night, as my parents were starting to get suspicious. I felt bad for him, taking into consideration that it was pretty cold, so I told him I would stay out with him for longer than usual. We had found an area to block us from the wind. He had been smoking, and we were both thirsty, so I offered to go get sodas. I told him it was okay if he just wanted to wait there. I left to the store and got him an orange soda while I got a grape soda.
I've always been a prankster, so I crept up to the corner of the wall to peek around the corner. I was going to pop out to scare him, but when I peeked around the corner I saw something horrifying. Justin was laying on the ground with his neck slashed, and a man clad in black with a black balaclava covering his face. He had plunged a big silver blade in Justin's chest. After a few seconds which felt like being in the dentist office waiting room, I dropped one of the sodas. My body stiffened, and all of the hair on my body stood as I listened to see if the murderer would stand. I broke out of my stupor dropping the other soda, and ran to the back of the store, quickly climbing onto the roof of the shopping center. Never had I thought those summer days with Tyler where we had become so bored we began to climb anything would actually come in handy. The murderer walked around the corner, and I carefully looked from my perch. The murderer walked so casually now, silently checking nearby hiding places; all the while, Justin's now drying blood coated the bright silver blade gripped in that monster's right hand. I waited in that spot for hours, too scared that the killer would be hiding just from my view, waiting to see me leave my hiding spot.
Eventually, even fear and the cold was beaten by my lack of sleep. I awoke around 1 in the afternoon to the hot sun beating upon my body on the roof. I soon remembered the events of the past night, and fear overcame me again. I slowly climbed down the side of the building assuring myself the killer was long gone by this time. Walking around the side of the building, I expected to see yellow tape, and cop cars lining the site of Justin's murder. I was surprised to see nothing of the sort. I walked over to the corner, and peeked around it. Justin's body was gone. I slowly approached the spot where his body should be laying right now, rotting. Not even a stain of blood was on the ground. I walked home, puzzled as to how a body could just disappear. By the time I returned home I thought of a good explanation as to what happened. I must have had my leg pulled by Tyler and Justin. I entered into my house, and used the house phone. I only recently received a cell phone. Tyler answered his phone in a tired voice. I could tell he just had woken up.
Smooth streamlets from caverns of Kathos Where broodth the calm spirits of twilight. And over the lakes and the streamlets Are bridges of pure alabaster, White bridges all cunningly carven With figures of fairies and daemons. Here glimmer strange suns and strange planets, And strange is the crescent Bnapis That sets 'yond the ivy-grown ramparts Where thicken the dusk of the evening. Here fall the white vapours of Yabon; And here in the swirl of vapours I saw the divine Nathicana; The garlanded, white Nathicana; The slow-eyed, red-lipped Nathicana; The silver-voiced, sweet Nathicana; The pale-rob'd, belov'd Nathicana And ever was she my beloved, From ages when time was unfashioned Now anything fashion'd but Yabon. And here dwelt we ever and ever, The innocent children of Zais, At peace in the paths and the arbours, White-crowned with the blest nephalote. How oft would we float in the twilight O'er flow'r-cover'd pastures and hillsides All white with the lowly astalthon; The lowly yet lovely astalthon, And dream in a world made of dreaming The dreams that are fairer than Aidenn; Bright dreams that are truer than reason! So dreamed and so lov'd we thro' ages, Till came the cursed season of Dzannin; The daemon-damn'd season of Dzannin; When red shone the suns and the planets, And red leamed the crescent Banapis, And red fell the vapours of Yabon. Then redden'd the blossoms and streamlets And lakes that lay under the bridges, And even the calm alabaster glowed pink with uncanny reflections
Hello. You have six hundred and sixty-six new messages. Message one.
The phone beeps again, and you're not prepared for what comes next.
You spin around, thinking that she's standing right behind you. There's pure terror in her screams, accompanied by other disturbing noises. You stand there, horrified, for about ten seconds. Screaming gives way to hysterical, garbled crying before dying out with the sounds of spilling meat and tearing flesh.
The phone beeps again. You're shaking.
“Hey Lou, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even shown you the case. I don’t want you to feel scared for Jenny now, though. Carlson’s the second best detective in this department. He’ll get the job done,” Bill reassured me, and I nodded and headed out the door.
As I walked through the grey corridors to Carlson’s office, I noticed a stray paper hanging out of the envelope. I grasped it and pulled, revealing the slip of paper. It was a hand-written suicide letter from one of the five year olds. The handwriting was primitive, and hard to understand. I walked and read, trying to decipher the first word when I found myself outside Carlson’s office. I quickly stashed the paper into my pocket, and walked through the door.
“Chief’s got a new case for you Carlson. Three five year olds, suspected suicides,” I said, waltzing inside the roomy, dark office and throwing the files onto his desk.
“Suicides, you said?” Carlson asked, looking up from his phone. He had been texting someone he wasn’t supposed to, judging by the way he quickly locked the phone and looked up. I couldn’t believe Bill was leaving the case in this man’s incapable hands.
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Suicides.”
“Well, open and shut case then. If they killed themselves what am I doing with the case?” he asked, seemingly confused.
“You don’t find it strange that three five year olds all jumped from buildings within the space of a few weeks?” I asked him, folding my arms over my chest.
“Not really. Pressures of school nowadays, it doesn’t surprise me at all to be perfectly honest with you,” Carlson said, leaning back against his chair and sliding his phone into his pocket.
“Okay, valid point. Except that when you read the case file you’ll find out that these three kids aren’t even in school yet. In fact, they were all due to start in a month’s time,” I said angrily. I couldn’t believe how passive this man was being. Three five year olds were dead without a valid explanation, and he was shrugging off the case as if it had already been figured out.
“Thanks, Sherlock. Is this your case or is it mine?” he said aggressively, and then picked up the yellow envelope and waved it around. “Get out of my office please, Lou. I’ve got work to do.”
“Just make sure you do it then, Carlson,” I said, stalking out of the office. When I was far enough away I removed the crumpled letter from my pocket and studied it. I reached my office and sat down in my seat, smoothing the wrinkles in the worn bit of paper.
This is what the note read: Mummy and daddy. I love you, but I have to go now. Don’t worry, I’ll be okay. He promised. Michelle.
The writing seemed forced, and promised seemed like too big of a word for a five year old to know, whether they had started school or not. And who was this mysterious man mentioned? Did he force little Michelle to write the letter, and then make her jump? According to the file, there had been no men on the scene apart from the father, and later the police. Security around the crime scene had been watertight. Could it have been an imaginary friend perhaps?
So many scenarios flooded my mind, and although the case wasn’t mine, I knew I wouldn’t be able to rest until it had been solved.
A few days later, the girl entered my dreams.
I had almost forgotten the case, but it still played on the edges of my subconcious, tricking me into believing it would release my mind and break free, leaving me in peace. It would then re-enter my brain; a small child walking on the sidewalk would remind me of one of the children, or I would pass a crying woman, and then the case would swoop in to the foreground, never letting me forget completely.
But I went to sleep three nights after the case had passed my desk, and there she was. Help me, she said, tears streaming down her face and her hand outstretched. Her blonde hair was whipping in the wind as she stood in the darkness. I reached out my hand, but she was leaning backwards, getting further away. And then she was falling, and she crashed into the blackness surrounding her, breaking it and revealing the sirens and screams as she toppled from the roof of her house. Her fingers slipped past mine, and then she was screaming.
I woke up, sweat covering my chest. I hadn’t saved her. I hadn’t been there at the scene in time, but I was going to help her now, and that was a promise.
I had woken up in the morning, earlier than usual, and joined my wife and daughter in the dining room for breakfast.
“I didn’t want to wake you up,” my wife said, surprised.
“I wanted to eat breakfast with you two this morning. Morning, darling,” I said to my daughter as I kissed my wife. She made a face of disgust at the gesture, and I laughed. “Off to day care?”
“Yep, but I’ll be at school soon daddy!” she said, giggling.
“I know! You are getting so big, aren’t you?” I said walking over and kneeling down at her chair in order to be face to face with her.
“She is!” said my wife. “You’ll never guess how many pancakes she’s eaten!”
“How many?” I asked her. “One?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve eaten three!” I said playfully.
“I ate four!” she chuckled, and I leant over and tickled her belly.
“You’re lying! You couldn’t fit four in there!”
“I did daddy! They’re in my tummy,” she said laughing as I tickled her.
“Okay sweetheart, mummy’s going to work now. Come on, say bye to daddy,” my wife rose from the table, and took both of their plates to the kitchen.
“Bye daddy,” Jenny said, hugging my neck.
“Bye Jenny! Have a good day at school, honey,” I replied, hugging her back. A short time after they left the house, I took a quick shower and headed off to work myself.
When I arrived, my boss and Carlson were having a heated argument. I walked through the sliding glass doors and past the reception area of the police department. I headed towards the two, catching glimpses of what they were saying as I neared.
“No, look you don’t understand...”
“I understand perfectly, Carlson. You do not have enough evidence there for a warrant. End of story.”
“But he’s the guy, I’m sure!”
“Then gather more evidence, Carlson. I cannot grant you a warrant with such little information.”
“Fine.” I walked up, and Carlson shot me a disgusted glare as he stormed off.
“What was that about?” I asked my chief as casually as I could, although I was bursting on the inside to find out what had made Carlson so enraged.
“He wanted a warrant to search his suspect’s house. He doesn’t have enough information. Some delivery guy, I don’t even think he did it. I was the first one on all of those crime scenes you know, Lou. Seeing those kids kill themselves, it just isn’t right,” he said tiredly. “I hope he catches the bastard who did this.”
“Me too. You don’t think he will though, do you?” I asked.
“No, Lou. I don’t,” he said as he walked off. “I wish I did.”
I walked into my office. The double-homicide case was sitting on my desk. I stared at it for a long time, but I couldn’t open it. My brain would only let me focus on one thing at a time, and that case was killing me.
I pulled out my chair, turned to my computer and searched the database for the three victims. I ran analysis to try and find a connection to the three kids. I found out that they all lived within three blocks of each other, and were enrolled in the same public school due to start next month. Harshley Primary School; the same kindergarten my own daughter was soon to attend.
I printed off my findings and read over them once more. I was looking for a connection somewhere, a connection to a particular man or organisation.
I tried a different angle. Instead of looking for people or organisations that had contacted the families, I looked for organisations and people the families had contacted themselves. I investigated for a while, until my police department popped onto the screen.
All three children had been enrolled into the ‘Stranger Danger’ interactive seminar which had been held by my department at the beginning of the year. It had been targeted at those about to go into school, four and five year olds, in order to educate them about the dangers of strange vehicles and all of the basic things like avoiding people you don’t know.
The seminar had been run by my chief, Bill, and a few others, including Carlson. I decided to look further into Carlson’s background. After only a short time investigating, I discovered a blocked file entitled ‘Carlson E. Richmond’. It should have been the file on Carlson’s history, however instead of coming up with schools he had attended and other records, the file had been completely wiped.
I had no idea why, or even how it possible to wipe a file on someone’s history. All I knew was that there was a reason his file had been cleared of his past, and it was most likely in order to cover up a dark history.
At three o’clock I decided to call it a day. Staring at my computer for hours had dried my eyes and given me a pounding ache in between them. I walked into my chief’s office.
“I think I’m gonna call it a day, Bill. I’ve got a pretty bad headache,” I said, rubbing my temples.
“No worries, Lou. You did overtime last week. Go home to your family,” he said sympathetically.
“Thank you. Are you about to head home too?” I asked, noticing the briefcase on his desk.
“What this? Oh no, this is some more files on the suicide case. I’m staying here late tonight to help Carlson out with the case. I’m afraid he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
“Oh okay. Well, I hope you two aren’t here too late then,” I replied, turning to head out the door.
Later, as I was driving home, I received a call from a strange number. I turned on hands-free, answered the call, but before I could speak a raspy voice I had never heard before began to cry.
“I don’t want to do it, but I can’t help it. When I see them, I can’t help but make them die!”
“Who is this?” I asked the man on the other end.
“I can’t tell you. But you have to help me. I don’t want to keep killing them.”
“I can’t help you if I don’t know your name. Who are you killing?”
“The children! The children are dead because I make them jump! I could never kill them myself, but I love to watch them die. I’m sick! You have to help me, oh god you have to help me!”
“Who are you, sir?” I asked, shouting to be heard over the top of the man’s gibberish. I heard a door opening in the background, a muffled voice and then the phone hung up. I stared at the road in astonishment.
The killer had just called me and confessed! All I had to do was trace the number of the phone back, and I had him! I ran into my house excitedly and submitted my call logs into my personal computer. I got heart flutters as the number ran through the database, but my heart stopped when the number showed up belonging to Carlson E. Richmond, Warrega Police Department. The call had been made from his desk.
Carlson was the man behind the suicides. And I had the evidence now to put him behind bars.
I thought about driving back down to the police station, but decided against it as Carlson may have already left, and I didn’t want to have to explain everything to Bill so late at night. No, it could wait until the morning.
I woke to the sounds of my daughter crying downstairs and my wife comforting her. I threw on a dressing gown and rushed downstairs.
“What’s the matter, Princess?” I asked my Jenny, as tears flowed from her blue eyes onto her red cheeks.
“A man was in my room last night and he said he was my friend but I didn’t know him!” Jenny cried as she looked up at me.
“A man was in your room?!” I demanded.
“Yes! But I didn’t believe he was my friend. I said go away, and he went out the window!” she cried as she hugged my wife. My wife looked up at me with wide eyes.
“We have to call the police!” she said in a frightened tone of voice.
“I am the police Maureen! No, we’re not calling. Look, we’ve been working on a case down at the department and I think this man in her room might be related. I’ll take her into work today so she can give them a description. I’ll get everyone watching the house. This won’t happen again, okay honey? I promise,” I said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Come on, Jenny. You’re coming with daddy into work today.”
“Okay,” Jenny said her voice still shaky from crying.
“Give daddy one minute,” I said climbing the stairs to my bedroom. I opened the top drawer of my wardrobe chest and removed the pile of t-shirts concealing the .22 revolver I had hidden in there for safety. I took it out, feeling the cool metal on my fingertips. I then tucked it into the back of my jeans, and walked downstairs again. “Let’s go, pumpkin.”
We drove through the streets silently, neither one of us uttering a single syllable. When we arrived at the turnoff for the police department, I turned the other way.
“Where are we going daddy? You work down there!” My daughter said, pointing towards the police station becoming increasingly smaller in the rear vision mirror.
“It’s too early to go there yet sweety. Daddy has to pay a friend a little visit.” I drove a few blocks from the police station, and then rolled to a stop outside a three storey house marked with the number ‘162’. I got out of the car and dragged Jenny after me. I didn’t even bother knocking on the door, I just kicked it down.
“Daddy what are you doing?!” Jenny was screaming at this point, but I forced myself to ignore her. I stormed up the stairs, still holding Jenny’s hand. I could hear shuffling in the upstairs bedroom. I kicked the bedroom door down to reveal Carlson and his wife desparately trying to hide in their ensuite, but unable to get the door open.
“Lou, what the hell are you doing here?” Carlson screamed. “Why are you in my house?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I said calmly. “Why were you in my daughter’s room last night, you filthy little bastard? Three kids weren’t enough? You had to threaten my daughter, too?”
“Daddy,” Jenny said, pulling my sleeve.
“Not now, sweetie. What do you have to say for yourself, maggot?” I asked Carlson, who was shielding his wife with his body.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My son has called the police. They’ll be here soon enough,” Carlson said, barely managing to choke out the words. He stood so pathetically, dressed in cross-hatched pyjama pants and top, standing at the door to the ensuite in his comfortably-sized bedroom. His wife was crying behind him, cowering and hugging his legs, dressed in a blue night gown and wearing slippers.
“Bullshit. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Chief gave you that case, and you didn’t want to investigate it further because you were the one who killed them. You were scared,” I said, my hand reaching around to grab my revolver.
“I just said, Lou, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. You sound crazy right now!” said Carlson.
“I don’t believe a single word you’re saying, arsehole. You killed three five year olds. Does that make you feel tough? Huh? Does it?!” I screamed, whipping the gun out from my jeans and pointing it in between his eyes. “I must say, your manipulation skills are pretty impressive, but nothing gives a better result than a simple bullet.”
I squeezed the trigger, the cylinder of solid metal on a direct course with Carlson’s forehead. In less than a second half of his head was no longer attached to his body, rather it was plastered over the ensuite door. Jenny’s screams were broken only by the sounds of police sirens approaching the house. Carlson’s wife was crying next to the body of her dead husband.
Everything was so deafening. The sound of the gun being fired still rang in my mind, rattling my brain against my skull. The screams only added to the already impossibly loud noises in my mind. I couldn’t see anything that was happening around me. Everything seemed to slow down until it almost stopped, and then time slowly sped-up again until everything was happening at normal pace once more.
I turned towards Jenny. “Daddy’s done a bad thing, Jenny, but that man was bad, okay? The police won’t believe daddy, so we have to try and convince them. I’m going to put you out the window, and I want you to climb onto the roof. Okay, sweetie?” I said, gripping her shoulders with my strong hands. I picked her up and hauled her out the window and onto the roof, following shortly afterwards.
The police arrived with fourteen squad cars. They must’ve called everyone in the immediate area to come to Carlson’s house, but they were too late. I had killed him. But in killing him I had saved so many, including my own daughter. I had to think about that aspect, and only that aspect, because otherwise I would die with a guilty conscience.
My chief, Bill, stepped out of one of the cars with a megaphone. “Lou, come down immediately. We’ve got the whole area surrounded. Stop scaring little Jenny. We can end all of this right now!”
I thought about a lot of things in that last second. But there was one name that stood out from the rest of my thoughts that made me want to cry. The sick bastard who had forced those children to jump, and was going to kill my daughter. The evil, plotting murderer who had taken so many lives, and destroyed even more. The only reason I screamed as I fell was because within me so much hatred and anger had been evoked as I thought of that one name.