Category: Arts & Life

A carnival turned crime scene. A serial killer using a weapon so rare not much research has been done on it. The cautious one in the friend group lives to tell the tale. The odd one in the friend group is nowhere to be found. 

Chapter 4: MASON KIM… Mason Kim, 18 y.o., Korean, always top of his class but quiet. I have been friends with him for as long as I could remember. The profilers came up to me and continuously asked “Where is he?” to which I replied with “I want to know the same thing.” There was a meeting between the police and FBI talking more about the profile and how Mason fit it to a T. I wasn’t allowed in this meeting but that one detective who helped solve Cooper’s wife’s death felt it was okay to tell me, but because of this interaction, the other detectives thought that I was hiding Mason but I really had no idea where he was.

His photo was passed around so everyone knew what he looked like and could turn him in or arrest him if they saw him. I realized at that point how much trouble he was in, when all of a sudden, the area went quiet with a single phone ringing, someone answered and it was from the hospital. The detectives congregated for a minute, wondering if they should tell me, I was relentless though. I needed to know what had happened because I knew it was related to this case. 

A detective from this group came up to me and said “Sam didn’t make it.” My heart dropped. My only other friend was gone. The poison was too strong, he already had a compromised immune system due to asthma. I was so focused on finding this killer I had forgotten about Sam, this was my cross to bear. I dedicated so much time and effort into something that could’ve been discovered without me, I could’ve checked up on Sam, been there for him. The detective handed me a tissue, I hadn’t realized I started crying, heavy. He asked if I needed a space to cry, but all I could think of was seeing Mason in the back of a cop car, looking defeated. I needed to find him for my friends. 

 I rejected the offer and walked away saying “Let’s find him.” I couldn’t think of a reason as to what compelled Mason to take lives or even why he does it. I thought he was good, harmless, normal. Clearly, I was wrong. I’ve known him for so long, it was just so unbelievable, even now after everything that’s happened, I believe that there was something else that in a way forced him to do this.

After about an hour passed and the detectives were just about ready to give up when all of a sudden, there he was. Mason was found. Sitting behind and under the mechanical works of the ferris wheel, there he was, manically laughing at a picture of me. I have no idea where he got the picture because I’ve never sent it to anyone. 

     This exact picture had red marker all over my face and it was cut up. There were hearts everywhere as well. It was horrifying. He was taken in for questioning and admitted he was guilty. When asked why kill his friends, Elly and Sam, he claimed “They got in the way of my love.” He was so mentally gone. Mason admitted to all the murders and said I was supposed to be the last one. I was the main target. When asked about a motive, Mason Kim said “I love her. I want her to recognize me.” 

THE END.  

My name is Azul. But my friends call me Az. I was your run-of-the-mill orphan in 2088, nothing but with an all-grey jumpsuit and a tracker embedded in my arm to make sure I didn’t escape.

Yeah, it sucked.

Sure the Great Ceiling more often than not rained flesh-melting chemicals and a walk in the dark could mean losing a spleen, but this little orphanage that I call prison is above all that. Well technically below, as all things in the Cramp (imagine a shanty town built into the collective basement of skyscrapers). We’re nestled like Static-Bugs in a rug under the green and picturesque sprawl of the Gardens, where the air isn’t recycled by barely functioning machines that pollute just a little less than they clean, and the soul degrades every day. Every day the air gets harder to breathe and people get nastier.

Except for me, though. I

Thats me, Azul Untitled, color-wielding, and (self-styled) badass

Now you know who I am, we can get to the good stuff.

My story starts the day I was almost killed for the above-mentioned powers.

WEEEEEEEE! WEEEEEEEE! I jolted awake to the sound of the morning alarm. 

“Ugh,” I groaned, “Another day in purgatory.” 

“Come on Az! We’re gonna be late!” said Elf, she slept two bunks down the hall where all the orphans slept.

“Can’t I sleep a little longer Elf?”

“Your butt gonna be tossed in the Blank, not me.”

The Blank was a room that was a completely white cube, so while it looked like infinity, take a couple of steps in a direction and you’ll slam face-first into a wall, while this is just incredibly boring for most people, my enhanced ability to see colors makes it even more mind-numbing.

“Fine.”

I rolled on my back and tried to sit up. And succeeded in banging my head on the bunk above mine. Which happened to belong to the biggest jerk in the whole world (and maybe beyond), Thrash. And jerks hate me just as much as I hate them. A big mouth and too much sarcasm don’t make a lot of friends.

I swore.

He dropped to the ground next to me and grinned. Thrash hated me since I got here, and was always looking for an excuse to fight me.

“Well, Well, Well, looks like someone is due for a little lesson in manners,” said Thrash. He cracked his knuckles and went to grab me.

“Come on Thrash, it was an accident!” yelled Elf. I shook my head at her. “It’s all right Elf, Thrash just needs to assert his fragile masculinity.” I said with a smirk.

His face turned beet-red with anger. “Shut up!” He said, turning away from my bunk and shoving Elf to the ground, “Stay out of this!” A crowd of kids had gathered by now, and a few muttered at this. Elf was well-liked, and Trash could sense he was losing the crowd whoops, I meant Thrash; however Thrash knew that the crowds love violence over being decent people so he resumed dealing with his original target, me.

“I’m gonna give you a lesson you won’t forget any time soon, blue boy.” He went to grab me but I slipped around him and into the ring of orphans all hungry for blood. He grunted in anger and raised his fists and started to close the distance between us.

A carnival turned crime scene. A serial killer using a weapon so rare not much research has been done on it. The cautious one in the friend group lives to tell the tale. The odd one in the friend group is nowhere to be found. 

Chapter 3: SQUARE ONE

   After hours of searching and connecting the dots, the police started seeing me as a suspect because they thought it was strange that I would insert myself into the investigation. They took me in for questioning but I thought it was normal because I found two of the victims. For a motive, they said that I had such narcissistic traits, I would find people who looked like me and disfigure them because “there could only be one me,” which is so shocking and made me laugh a little because who thinks that? 

  Once I realized I was a suspect I started answering the questions with more caution. The FBI started getting involved, and with the help of both the state and local police along with the FBI, there was now a profile. There wasn’t much to the profile other than the killer being male, young; and maybe in his teens. Someone who needed attention from women because of possible maternal issues. The investigation turned up a few love letters with no mention of who wrote them or who they’re for. These letters had graphic detailing of what the writer wanted to do to the receiver. The only thing the police told me was that these details matched what had happened to the victims in this case. I don’t fit the profile being that I am female. I thought about everyone I knew who went to the fair. 

Then it hit me…Mason Kim. My friend who suddenly went missing when the first body was found. I’ve known him for years, and yet I don’t actually know much about him. It only recently struck me as weird how he would only ask me how I was and what I was doing but when I returned the question, I’m met with silence or an excuse. All I know is what the police told me about his story after this case was closed. His mother had abused him all throughout his childhood and his parents had divorced. Custody was given to Mason’s father but maybe the courts were too late. Growing up, Mason was always with his mother because his father was almost always at work or on a business trip. He didn’t know his dad all too well so Mason assumed his father was a good person, because what were the odds that both of his parents were bad people? 

  The trauma had been set in stone. His father was the type to seem normal in public but horrible at home. He would make sure that he never hit Mason in places that can’t be covered up because masking bruises is hard, but the physical and psychological pain that can’t be seen in public done to young Mason would severely damage even an adult far into their own life. 3 years after custody was given to the father, Mason became an orphan and was turned over to the state. He was 16 when he was on his own.

    From what I’m told, Mason’s father had died in a car crash, his navy blue Koenigsegg Jesko Attack sped over a cliff and into a body of water. After having discovered that the killer was involved in Cooper’s wife’s death, it was suspected that the same killer might have been involved in Mason’s father’s death based on a signature found on each car. At first, this signature was written off as a scratch because that’s what it looked like, but upon closer inspection, it was the initials “MK” which eventually led to the suspicion of Mason being the killer. 

     I could not believe this simply because that means that 16 year old Mason would have had a hand in his father’s car crash. How would that even be possible? He was so young… We were standing next to each other one second and the next I couldn’t find him. I brought him up when I talked to the police which they replied with “Any lead is appreciated. Thank you.” I said you’re welcome not expecting much because Mason was harmless. He’d been through so much, there was no way someone so broken and innocent could do such a crime. Right?