SERIAL CEMETERY
by Em
While this
wasn’t the first time I had stumbled upon a dead body, it was the first time I
had literally stumbled over one. When I
stood up again, I realized I was surrounded by several bodies in varying states
of decomposition. The bodies were all
within a 20-30 foot radius of one another.
The ones with flesh still attached had clearly been female.
I called for
Wade to come see what I was seeing. He
was just zipping up his pants after taking a leak behind a tree. The truck’s engine was still running and our
black lab, Riley, was waiting patiently in the extended cab. Wade walked over slowly and his eyes
widened. A smile came across his face as
he realized what he was seeing.
“Well, well,
have you been engaging in extra-curricular activities without me, Jez?” He laughed and started walking amongst the
bodies. He bent down next to a couple of
them and minutes later shouted, “No skulls!”
I stood,
staring, unbelieving that there could be a serial killer so close to our fair
city. Wade and I thought we were the
only ones.
**
Wade and I
met when we were kids and we had been inseparable ever since. Wade had been in my 4th grade
class and I always thought he was really smart.
In fact, I had no clue that he was into the idea of killing until we
were in 10th grade. He
mentioned that he idolized killers who were never caught and hoped that one day
he would be one. From that moment on, I
was very interested in a romantic and violent partnership with him!
I remember
reading about Bonnie and Clyde and knowing that he and I would be glorified
criminals one day. Instead, we were just
garden-variety lust killers who murdered both women and men.
For me, it
really wasn’t about the killing, it was about the “playing.” I loved whips, chains, and sexual
assault. Let it not be said that I
wasn’t easy to please!
Wade lived
for the kill itself. He couldn’t get
enough of death. His choice of tools
included various types of knives and screw drivers. Woe to the hitchhiker with long legs or a
nice body---you were just our type!
**
In fact,
when we stumbled upon this little cemetery, we were looking for a good dumping
site for our latest victim. We had
picked him up at a truck stop and made good use of his ripped abs and hard
cock. He didn’t know at the time that we
had murder in store for him later. I was
pretty sure he didn’t even know when Wade slipped the cuffs on him and hog tied
him. “Truck Stop” was a kinky one. Wade was using his favorite oriental blade
when he slashed Truck Stop’s throat and blood sprayed everywhere. I was immediately glad I had put up some good
plastic before we started fucking because this was going to be a bitch to clean
up!
In the body
dump, Wade shrieked with joy every time he noticed another headless
corpse. “This is just like Ted
Bundy! He decapitated his victims
too!” I wasn’t thinking of that. I was thinking about something else. If someone else was dropping off bodies here,
why not toss a few of ours in? If this
mysterious decapitator was ever caught, some of our bodies would be listed as
his bodies. I just hoped our victims
would fit in! This must be how a mother
feels sending her children off to school on the first day.
First things
first, we would have to decapitate our victims from now on, and that could be
mess. Plus, what would we do with the
heads? The idea behind dumping a victim
is to get rid of the entire body, not just part of it. It wasn’t like Riley could play with the
heads in the backyard, although it is a pretty funny visual.
**
On the ride
back home, Wade and I discussed our finding.
Leaving our male victim in the field would really confuse things, but we
were far too tired to look for another place.
We figured the cops might suspect more than one killer dumping bodies in
the area, but we were beyond caring.
Still, the
idea of a Ted Bundy copycat killer was thrilling. Ted Bundy, a serial killer in the 1970’s
gained a rock star reputation by pandering to the media during his 2 trials for
murder. He was rumored to have killed
more than 30 women and he decapitated at least 12 of them.
As we mused,
we noticed a young blonde walking along the side of the road with a gas can. Her car must have been the dead Toyota we saw
a couple of miles back. Wade looked at
me and I nodded. Tonight was proving to
be quite interesting.
As we pulled
the truck over beside her, the tall woman looked at us warily. I rolled down the window and smiled. “Hey, need a ride? The closest gas station is maybe 2 miles
away.” I did my best to look
non-threatening and innocent.
“Uh no, I’m
fine. Thanks though.” She continued walking quickly away.
**
Three nights
later we returned to the body dump with a blonde female corpse in tow. Wade lifted the headless body from the truck
bed. No matter how many dead bodies he
handled, he was always struck by how heavy dead weight was.
I had just
found the perfect spot for our victim when I looked dead ahead at a silhouette
standing beneath some trees. The male
silhouette stood frozen in place as he eyed the two of us. He couldn’t have been more than 30 feet away
and I wasn’t able to get Wade’s attention until the man was standing right in
front of me.
“Are you the
ones who left a male body in my
cemetery?!” he shrieked in disbelief.
Wade was
completely taken aback by the sound of another male’s voice nearby. He tripped over his own feet, falling face
first and stared up at the two of us.
“Yeah, we
left him here,” I stood defiant.
He audibly
scowled, “Goddammit! You don’t walk into
someone else’s cemetery and start using it!
That’s just not done!” His body
was shaking and I imagined his face would be red if it weren’t completely dark
just then.
I leaned
towards the Stranger, who noticeably changed his posture.
“We dumped
that body here and we’re leaving another body here tonight. The idea is that if you get caught for all of
your misdeeds and police find this dumping ground, you’ll take the blame for
our victims too.” My voice sounded
gruffer than usual and I noticed I was standing on my toes to reach the
Stranger’s face.
In hindsight,
I probably should have been terrified.
The next thing I knew, the Stranger shot Wade and I somehow found myself
handcuffed in the back of his sedan. How
in the hell did this happen? I truly was
at the mercy of a sophisticated killer who had done this many times
before. Compared to him, I was an
amateur.
**
As he pushed
me through the door, I nearly fell over what appeared to be a pile of ski
equipment. It was strange because we
didn’t live in an area that received a lot of snow. I was still wearing cuffs linked in front and
the large man was pushing me towards a small room in the back of his
house. Inside the house, it was pitch
black and the walls were painted a dark color to ensure nobody could see a damn
thing at night.
As he forced
me to turn a corner, I could feel The Stranger trip and the sound of a gunshot
pierced the room. I crouched
instinctively and was grateful not to feel any pain or blood shooting from any
part of my body. I listened for a
moment, not sure what to expect. I felt
around for a light switch and located one on a hallway wall.
The scene in
front of me was embarrassing for this particular killer. When we turned the corner, his gun had fallen
from his hand, hit the floor, and shot him in the forehead. To this day, I don’t know how that could have
happened, but it happened and he was killed instantly. I knew the cops would get a kick out of
finding him this way when I called them from a neighbor’s house. I would appear to be just another victim and
the skulls found in the fireplace and Polaroids of victims would just reinforce
his connection to the deaths around town.
**
When I
returned to the body dump, Wade was gone.
I assumed he had headed to a hospital, but when I got home, he was there. Turns out, he was barely grazed by the bullet
and was able to hitch his way home. As I
was packing my suitcase to hit the road and out of this town forever, Wade
turned on the news. A story about the
killer was just being announced. It
seems he was kidnapping young women from college campuses and having his way
with their dead bodies. The media had
dubbed him “The Bundy Copycat Killer.” This
guy was so lame he didn’t have the distinction of having his own killer
nickname. At least Wade and I were
referenced as both “The Carolina Ripper” and (since some of our victims hadn’t
been linked to others), “The Highway Slayer.”
Sheesh, was it so hard to get an original name?
The news
story continued and stated that police had noted some inconsistencies with my
story and I was now a “person of interest” in the crimes. I had to get out of town fast, but where to
go? When Riley started barking at the
front door, I knew I had a problem on my hands.
Wade became wide-eyed and slowly moved towards the door. As he opened the door, I noted the gun in his
waist-band.
The cop at
the door flashed his badge and Wade quickly drew his gun and fired. The cop went down, but his partner shot Wade
in the chest. Wade was able to fire once
more and the partner was hit in the face.
I stood in the hallway in complete shock. I had no idea that Wade planned to shoot the
police at our door. As he lay in the foyer
bleeding, I felt compelled to run to him.
However, I realized that more cops were coming. I grabbed my suitcase and took off in my
Honda sedan. Things weren’t going to be
the same without Wade and Riley, but I had to get out of there!
**
I got 20
miles down the road before I was pulled over by a big burly female cop. She had graying hair pulled into a bun and
manly hands. She came at me with her gun
pulled and I knew I wasn’t getting out of this.
She handcuffed me with those manly hands and down to the jailhouse I
went.
It took me
hours of bull-shitting and spinning yarns before I finally convinced the cops I
wasn’t involved in the killings. I told
them I was leaving Wade and hadn’t even seen the news indicating I was wanted
for questioning. Lucky for me Wade hadn’t
survived his gunshot wound and was suspected as the only killer in the “Carolina
Ripper” killings.
I knew that
Wade’s death was the only reason I was free, but it still saddened me. We had known each other for a long time and
finding a willing accomplice to help me kill might take awhile, but it was a worthwhile
endeavor. No matter what happened, it
was time to move to the North Carolina coast and start a new life. You know what they say…there are always
plenty more fish in the sea!
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