Chapter 7 - Rythe: Fake News


I don’t have any proof that Michael Pulson is the serial killer I’m looking for. But, he did have relationships with two of the victims. The first was Audrey Conrad. A small time local professional wrestler. In the early years of her career she had been managed and walked to the ring by Michael. Audrey got pregnant and left the business alone to raise her kid. From what I've been told, Michael wasn’t good enough to work for someone else. Soon he was done with the wrestling business. I don't know if he just liked wrestling or he really loved it. That could be his motivation for the killing. If they stayed friends, it wouldn’t be hard to lure her to a secluded location.

The second person I've managed to like with Michael is Paul “Big Paulie,” Figueroa. All I’ve got on this is that they used to work together at a shipping company. Nobody could really give me much information on why the two wouldn’t get along or anything like that. Still, I’ve been looking into this for several years and I don’t have much else to go on. There really haven’t been any signs of a regular killer. No taunting messages, no signs of sexual perversion, no unique symbols or trophies taken from the people.

These two connections and the fact that Michael fits the profile of a serial killer is all I have to go on. The Macdonald triad is a group of three traits that may indicate a person will become a serial killer, or violent criminal. The first is being cruel or abusive to animals. Michael is an avid hunter, and there isn’t anything cruel about that. Instead the way he hunts is what makes him cruel. He lures the animals to a safe spot, traps them and slits their throats. Most people would just use a gun, but not Michael. The second is arson. I learned that Michael was expelled from three different high schools for setting fires in bathrooms. At the time it was ruled as accidental due to smoking. My uncle used to say once is an accident, twice is stupidity and three times, well that’s intentional. Then he’d beat me, for something I couldn’t control. Just a fact of life.

The third in the triad, is bed wetting. I could not figure out if Mr. Puslon wet the bed into a late age. There really isn’t any way I would be able to do that without him discovering I was looking into him as a suspect. But there are other accepted signs someone has a violent personality. On that list he fits several traits. A poor family life. I used a fake profile to add him, and several of his family members on FaceBook. Seems like they all hate each other, a host of abuse, violent confrontations and blaming for other issues. Apparently, his mother murdered his father and the nine siblings are torn on it. The mom has been withholding insurance money from the few that believe she did it. Michael hasn’t taken a side, or she seems to stay away from it, only hopping in to verify information occasionally. Honestly, I fit that standard as well, how many of us don’t have fucked up family lives at this point? Childhood abuse, probably we’re from a generation where parents got the belt before speaking, even if there were no beatings abuse can be mental.

Substance abuse, another trait some would say I share with Michael. Michael is the classic alcoholic. Whisky for breakfast, vodka for lunch and tequila for dinner. A steady diet makes sure he’s all the man he needs to be. Honestly, I think the guy is smarter than I’m giving him credit for, he’s just hammered off his ass most of the time.

“Excuse me,” comes alongside a knock on my window, I peer up to see the long arm of the law.

“How are you tonight officer,” I roll down the window.

“Can you tell me what you’re doing in this neighborhood?”

“I’m just waiting on my friend Michael. He lives in that apartment right over there,” not exactly a lie.

“Well, I got a complaint from a woman who says you’ve been sitting outside her place for three days in a row now. You got any idea why she might think that?”

“I have no idea officer.”

“How about you just move along, and if I see you again here, I’m taking you to jail.”

“Sounds good to me,” I pull off slowly as he walks back to his own car.

Probably not my brightest idea, staking out someone’s apartment in plain sight. Any number of people probably thought I was there looking for them. I’m slipping, I’ve gotten too comfortable in life. I’ve accepted being average, and no longer see the purpose in going the extra mile. A few years ago, I would have been on the rooftops, all black, with my car parked a few blocks away. Now I’m just hanging out in front of spots eating snacks in my own car. I might not be an addict like people think, but my life is a mess.

I need to find a new lead on this case, Michael isn’t my guy. I’m sure he gets his rocks off to some other sick kind of stuff. Watching gore on the internet might be enough for him. Sill, I think these murders my be magical in nature. Vampires and werewolves can be ruled out based on the type of murder. Vampires wouldn’t leave that many wounds, and werewolves wouldn’t be so neat. Hell, any I can’t think of any Lycan that would.

There are other ways to get information in this city, less legal ways. Information brokers, people who deal in the dark arts. Things that the average human may not be able to get to. But I’m not human, so I can go places they can’t. I can make deals they can’t for things they could never know. I suppose I need to schedule an appointment now. 

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