Run While You Still Can

Run While You Still Can

By: Melvin Zapata Mendez

Hello! I am Kelly Garden of Channel 7 News! I have very important news to share with you all! A killer on the loose in Vanester City! He uses a crowbar, most likely it is hidden from plain sight, has a full head of hair He is a white man of the 6’2”. Owns a really old gun, most likely from 1930’s. He is considered armed and extremely dangerous!  Do not approach him alone! If you find this man or have any information on him, please contact the police as soon as possible!

“Achoo! Somebody’s talking about me. Probably the terrible news reporter. Maybe she should be my next target…Hmm. I wonder. Hell, why not just kill the whole crew? Yeah. YEAH! The Channel 7 News crew dies tomorrow night.”

*Next day, 10:00 P.M. October 27th*

The Channel 7 news crew is shutting down the station, getting ready to go home. Kelly Garden gets her paperwork, grabs her keys and jacket and heads to her car. As she exits the news station, she hears an odd sound, and reacts by asking a question, which was, “Who’s there?”

No response. She gets in her car and right before the door closes, a man pops up, stopping her from closing the door. It's the sound guy, from the Channel 7 News crew, Lorenzo.

“JESUS, Lorenzo! You scared the hell out of me! How could you?! After I put a good word in for you, and went out of my way for you so you could get this job! How ungrateful!”

“Sorry”, Lorenzo continued, “I was just gonna ask for a ride home. I didn’t mean to scare you so much. Really sorry..”

“Fine! Get in!” Kelly responded.

I decided to move in, swiftly, but quietly. I then bashed in the front window with my bare fist (kinda hurt) and pulled out a gun out on the two.

The woman, who I presumed to be around her early 20’s, had long, thick and dark hair. Body type of a Cross-fitter, but it seems the woman herself wasn’t used to it. A red and black pantsuit, checkerboard style. She was about 5’3”, maybe shorter. It’s a shame she dare talk about me on national television however, I’ll rip her limb from limb. Such a young and beautiful being.

The man, about early 20’s maybe even teen years, had a baby like face. Italian, maybe Spaniard. He was few inches shorter than me, so roughly 6’2”. He wore a classic sound guy outfit. I’m guessing he forgot to remove his uniform.

“Who are you?! What do you want?! Why are you here?!” asked the man, demanding answers as if he had any place to speak.

“Don’t worry about that!”, I replied. “HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!!”, I yell at the top of my lungs, “HANDS UP OR YOU BOTH ARE GONNA DIE!”  

The pair raised their hands almost involuntarily. They feared for their lives, praying the man only wanted money, and perhaps the vehicle. Sadly, that's not the case.

“GET OUT THE CAR, ONE BY ONE! THE MAN FIRST!” , I demand. I clearly forgot his name. Pretty sure it was Italian though, by the way he asked his question.

The sound guy got out the car, got on the floor in front of me. Perfect. Thinking, “Why not ask him a certain question? Entertain me a little longer, why don’t you?”

I then asked, “So, you wanna ask the guy with a gun a question? I could easily kill you right  here. BUT I have an important question for you. How about I ask you one, since you asked me one, OK? Do you love this woman? Huh? Do you? You better respond honestly.”

Lorenzo replies with, “She’s my-y co-worker! I can’t love her!”

“THAT’S NOT THE QUESTION! DO YOU LOVE HER?!” I yelled, demanding for a clear answer and growing impatient. That and I REALLY wanted to kill him .

“YES!” screamed the Italian. “I’ve loved her as a child, a teenager and to this very day! I love you, Kelly Garden!”

I then beat the hell out of the guy with my rusty, trusty bronze crowbar. The sharp edges, piercing his skin, tearing off flesh like a sticky off of a notepad. OH, was that satisfying! The poor man, crying for help and mercy. Like that was gonna work. Blood everywhere. On the car, crowbar, me, which was enjoyed, and bit under Kelly’s dark grey right eye, almost as if it were a red tear. How poetic.

“NOW! YOU, KELLY GARDEN! GET OUT THE DAMN CAR!” I demanded.

Kelly moved with no hesitation, almost as if fear and sorrow had taken over her entire body. She sat on the hood of the car, and prepared for her death. However, my first instinct was to take her phone from her pocket and asked Kelly to enter the passcode.

She answers, “3-4-6-8”.

He asked Kelly a nickname she calls her husband. She replies with, “Cupcake”.

The man goes to Kelly’s messages and realizes Kelly’s texting pattern. He did this to ensure that he wouldn’t be thrown off by the forced text. The man then texts Kelly’s husband this, “Hey Cupcake! I’m on my way home after a long and hard day at work. I can’t wait to see what’s for dinner tonite! LOVE YOOUU!”

“Please! Just let me go! I won’t tell anyone! I promise on my title as “Most Viewed Anchorwoman on the East Coast”!

“Huh. Lemme think about that. Kill a celebrity that could snitch and get taken under witness custody, ooorrr see the blood of a star?… Nah! I wanna see the blood of a celebrity!”

I  strike Kelly across the face, knocking her out. He keeps beating into her skull, ensuring her death. As the blood flows from both victims, the streams connect, as if they were truly connected, destined to be together, like Romeo and Juliet. At that moment, I felt the absolute desire to continue. I had my sights for the Channel 7 News Station, after killing the head of the lion.

“Oh. I almost forgot. My name is Davis. Davis “Dave” Grand and I’m here to have some good ol’ fashioned fun! It’s only fair you answered my question, so I felt obligated to answer yours. Uhhh, Lorenzo? (Finally found his name tag) Well, swell time talking to you! Gonna go kill your other co-workers now! Have a nice night!”

*10:20 P.M. October 27th*

I walked with haste to the station and struggle to open the door. As I continue to struggle, I evidently asked, “Why won’t this door open?

I struggle, jerk, shake and eventually break down the door. Surprised that no one came to see what had happened, considering that the noise was exceptionally loud. Anyway, I waltz through the station with one thought in mind, “Who’s even here? Who here is apart of the Channel 7 News?”

“DAMN IT!” I yelled to see who would come to my call, seeing if I needed aid. “Help! Help me!” My ploy for this ¨errand¨ is to play like a victim, see who’ll come assist me and take everyone out.

A tall, white man approached down the hall.

“Help! I’m right here!” I couldn’t wait to kill the bastard. By the simple look in his eyes, he had evil intentions towards everyone he hated and I’m getting a sad, depressed vibe. I’m getting a feeling he’s recently divorced type of man, for about 6 months, maybe less.

“Who the hell are you?! State your name, address and show me some I.D.! NOW!” As he had switchblade at my throat. Ohhhh, the pleasure this one offers is almost unbearable.

“Why, I’d be happy to but I was robbed about two blocks from here. But some street thug, and his friends. I came here to report it and see if anyone can bring me to the V.C.P.D. Could you please? Kind sir?”

The man helps me rise, and brushes off some dust off my shoulder. He guides me to what I believe is his office.

“So, could you give me a ride to the V.C.P.D. station? I need to report this theft, although petty. My money, credit cards, identity was stolen in the matter of an instant.”

“FINE! Since you wanna beg and whine, I’ll take you. But before I do, lemme ask you a question. What’s your name?” the man asked.

“Davis ‘Dave’ Grand, pleased to meet you, regardless of the circumstance. And your name, kind sir?

“Carl. Just Carl, don't worry about my full name. Don't even think that I trust you. Pull one funny move and this switchblade will be used for its original intentions.”

“Oh. Trust me I won't try anything of the sort. I simply want to report this to try to clean the city.” I couldn't bare to say that. Almost killed myself. “Clean the city”, as if that's possible. Hell, I've been running loose for almost 6 months, killed almost 50 people and citizens STILL believe there's hope for this terrible, corrupt and overall crumbling city? Please…

We strolled towards the entrance of the station. We walked past Kelly's car, and Carl noticed the red stream.

“Do you know what that is? Do you know what happened?” Carl wondered.

“No. But actually I have to use the restroom. Could you guide me there? I would take the directions, however I always forget. That's why I own a GPS.” I replied.

“UGH! How are you so annoying?! Follow me!” Carl shouted.

Carl guides me to the bathroom, and it turns to be a while before we actually found it. As Carl opens the door, I ask, “That red stream you saw earlier...”

“Yeah? What about it? What did you do?”

“I'm the cause of that.” I utter.

“What do you mean?” Carl asked as he reached for his blade.

“I killed Kelly Garden and Lorenzo, the sound guy. Now, you're next.”

Carl swings his arm so the blade would cut my eyes, sadly he missed, shattered the mirror with his bare fist. His blood flowed between each knuckle and down each finger like the Nile. Seeing this filled me with nothing less than true enjoyment. His blood was dark red and made me wonder, “What the hell?” Regardless, I swung my clenched right hand across the man’s left cheek. He fell to the dirty and sticky floor, dropping the blade. I walked over his body and started striking Carl’s left cheek. I repeated hitting the man, having the blood flow so fast, I couldn’t believe my eyes…

“ANY LAST WORDS?! HUH?! YOU PITIFUL SON OF A BITCH!”

Carl responds weakly with, “Yeah… I hope you burn in Hell with your mother and loved ones…”

I considered his response and replied with, “Trust me. I love no one and nobody loves me. But nice try at trying to offend me. SEE YOU DOWN THERE!”

I continue beating the man into further unconsciousness. Beating into his skin, enjoying each and every hit, grunt, and drop of blood… OOOHHH THE RUSH!!!

I had an idea and wondered, “Should I just gather everyone and shoot everyone together? Or continue doing what I’m doing..? Let’s continue!!”

I head down the hall and see a cross roads. I choose left because it felt the riskiest and maaaan do I love a challenge. I keep walking, to see a female walking, high heels, dark green jacket, long, luscious blond hair. She was rather tall, almost as tall as me, so I’d say she’s at least 6’ 0”. That's two inches I have on her. I approach quietly, raise my crowbar and yell, “SAYONARA!”

The woman impressively dodged my swing, ducked down and  jabbed my stomach, causing my left hand to release my crowbar. She picked it up and swung it across my face. I fall, with my old scar over my left eye reopening.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked.

“Davis ‘Dave’ Grand. It’s a pleasure.”

“It’s really not. What’s your business here at the Channel 7 News Station?”

“I’m here to prank you guys. I heard you were learning some sort of defensive martial arts. Sooo, I decided to put that to the test.

“OK. Who hired you to prank us?”

“Kelly Garden. She wanted to ‘show her appreciation’ by showing that she actually listens and hears what you guys say.”

“Ahhh. So kind of her. But I have a query for you.” the woman said ominously

“Ask away.” I replied, somewhat off my guard.

“Why do you have a real crowbar? What if you didn’t grab my attention and you swung my head at full force?”

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t swinging at full force. It only appeared that way.”

“Oh. Duh Sam. It’s not like he’s a killer, or psychopath.”

She helps me rise to my feet and hands me my crowbar. She had an odd, menacing vibe, but now she gives off a sweet, cheerful one. Seems odd to say the least.

“Sorry sweetheart you’re about me…The judge of character anyway.”

“What do you mean? What type of person are you then?”

“A killer. A psychopath.”

I then pull out my old gun and fire straight into her abdomen. The bullet must’ve hit an artery, because was her blood gushing. Like the Niagara Falls while it rains. Before she bled to death though, I asked her,

“Who else is in this station? Answer, and I’ll take care of you and aid you to a hospital.”

“I won’t talk. You sick bastard!”

“Fine. Die for all I care. Ha! Literally.”

I head down the hall to find an abundance of cans of oil. Wonder why a news station would need Jerry Cans, but whatever. None of my business. But at that very moment, I thought to myself, “Time to torch the place! Make this station an actual Hell!”

I uncap the Jerry Cans, and make multiple trails of oil throughout the station, each leading to the center line of oil, which started in Kelley’s office went through the main hallways and and floors and ended by Kelly’s car. I light my match and set the oil ablaze.

I might just become an arsonist. DAMN! Watching that building burn was GREAAT! However saddening… Seeing all my hard work simply be burned away. But the fire itself, blazed with bright, vibrant colors! Ranging from red, yellow and orange, and the smell of burning flesh is what really got to me… I’m can’t wait to get home and watch the game, with this in mind.

I get on the bus that stops about 3 blocks away from the station. I sit in the row in front of the bus exit, making sure that I could run if necessary. 9 stops later, I get off, walked for about 3 minutes and going the same direction the bus was going and saw my home. When I did, I got in my shorts, turned on the TV, sat in my comfy, linty light brown recliner, and enjoyed the football game. It was the Michigan Wolverines vs the California Golden Bears.

I fell to sleep about in the 3rd quarter and woke up at around noon to hear the Channel 3 News. I heard “Station 7 News” and it immediately drew my attention. I wasn’t aware my crime would be known so quickly.    

“Randell Harrison here from Channel 3 News! I have very important news to share with you all! A killer on the loose in our proud Vanester City! He uses a crowbar, most likely it is hidden from plain sight, has a full head of hair, but has a basic fade. A white man of 6’2”. Owns a really old gun, most likely from 1940’s. He is considered armed and extremely dangerous! An example of his heinous crime is taking out everyone in the Channel 7 News Station, our sister station, then burning down the building! Do not approach him alone! If you find this man or have any information on him, please contact the police as soon as possible!

“I guess it’s lather, rinse and repeat, isn’t it? Can’t wait to see the blood of Randell Harrison.” *sharply sniffs air* “Ahhhhhhhh! I can smell it now! OH I’M READY!

To Be Continued...