Page 29 of The Butterfly Killer

He rolled to his side. The floor was sticky. It was too dark to see much of anything. The small light coming from under the door of the shed helped only a little. His stomach turned as he thought of the possible things that might be on the floor.

He heaved, his empty stomach throwing up only spit and acid. He spat it out and groaned as his stomach clenched again. He didn’t know why he was so weak. It felt as if someone had beaten the shit out of him.

He crawled along the floor, the sticky liquid and the dirt clung to his skin and his clothes. He reached the door. It was sturdy. He banged his hand against it to see if it would push open on its own. Of course it didn’t. That would be too easy.

His hand searched out along the plywood for the handle or for a lock. There was a metal handle. He grabbed it and yanked at it. The door barely moved. There was something on the outside locking him in.

He panted as he sagged against the door. His hand went to his side. It ached there.

He felt wetness as well. His pulse quickened as he felt his side with his fingers. There was a gash on his side about two inches long.

A half sob escaped him as a pain so great it had him seeing white almost made him pass out. He gritted his teeth as gasped for breath. His eyes bulged as he stared into the darkness. The stuff sticky on the floor was his blood. He’d been laying in it for who knew how long.

He slowly lowered to the ground. His chest heaved. For a long minute he sat in the silence, listening to his labored breaths as his thoughts cycled through so many things.

His eyelids lowered. He straightened up as he almost fell asleep.

No. He wasn’t going to give up.

As much as it pained him, he moved to the other end of the shed. He searched blindly for anything he might be able to use as a weapon. The man had been smart enough to remove everything.

“Fuck,” Marcus hissed under his breath.

He didn’t have time to formulate a plan. He heard a door outside the shed open and close. His eyes locked onto the little light coming from under the shed door. The movements of a shadow—legs and feet—made the light flicker.

The man outside the door stopped. He stood for a paused moment before he started messing with what Marcus thought to be the lock trapping him inside.

The shed door groaned as it was pushed in. A bright light flashed into Marcus’s face. It blinded him for a second. He shielded his face as the shed door closed. It thudded against the wooden frame.

“Hello, officer.”

Marcus’s breath caught in his throat as he recognized the voice. It was Michael.

His brow furrowed. Michael was the copycat? It didn’t make sense.

Michael lowered the flashlight. “You look confused to see me.”

Marcus backed up as much as he could, pressing his back against the wall of the shed. His eyes were still recovering from being blinded by the high-powered flashlight. It had seemed more like a laser beam stinging the back of his retinas.

Michael crouched in front of him. He wore jeans and a t-shirt again, the same casual outfit Marcus saw him in when he wasn’t jogging.

“You’re the copycat killer?” Marcus’s voice wheezed out of him. He gritted his teeth as another jolt of pain went through his side.

Michael moved the light to the wound. He gave a soft snort. “Copycat killer? I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else. I don’t copy anyone. I’m original.”

Michael gave a smile that must have been trying to be cute, but it only made Marcus more disgusted.

“Then who are you?”

Michael took a deep breath. “Well, I don’t have an official name yet. The police haven’t connected the dots between my murders.”

His eyes narrowed. There was a look of anger behind them. “Two years I’ve been killing and they haven’t caught on.”

His eyes moved to Marcus. “Until you showed up.”

He moved closer. Marcus pressed the back of his head against the wall. There was a nail digging into the nape of his neck, but he didn’t dare move.

Michael got so close Marcus could feel his breath on his skin. “Lily didn’t mention she had a brother. In all the times I watched her…she didn’t say a word about you.”

---