Page 17 of No Escape

John Murphy moved silently through the storm, the wind and rain serving as a shroud to mask his sinister intentions. He found himself skulking behind an old, dilapidated building, its once vibrant paint now peeling and faded, a testament to the passage of time.

His eyes darted around, searching for any signs of an alarm system. But he doubted a place like this—a little mom-and-pop establishment out in the sticks—would have anything so sophisticated. The inhabitants were likely lulled into a false sense of security by the rural surroundings, their isolation giving them the illusion of safety.

With a grin that sent a shiver down the spine of the darkness itself, John broke into the building, the storm swallowing any noise he made. Once inside, he took a moment to savor the quiet, the storm’s cacophony now a muted backdrop to his sinister thoughts.

The memory of Valerie’s face as she’d seen him escape from Shady Pines brought a twisted sense of pleasure to Murphy’s dark heart. He reveled in the knowledge that he’d managed to get under her skin one last time, the woman who’d been responsible for his incarceration. To see the fear and desperation in her eyes had been the sweetest of victories, and now he was free to continue his reign of terror.

He moved through the shadows of the building, the darkness embracing him like a lover. John Murphy’s mind was a cesspool of dark desires, each more depraved than the last. His thoughts were like the storm outside, raging and unstoppable, fueled by his insatiable appetite for destruction.

The rain lashed against the windows, a desperate attempt to breach the sanctuary John had found within the building’s crumbling walls. But he was safe from the storm’s fury—for now.

As he settled into his newfound refuge, John couldn’t help but feel the thrill of the hunt once more. He was free, unleashed upon the world like a rabid beast, eager to sink his teeth into his next unsuspecting prey. The thought of what lay ahead—the chaos and suffering he would bring—filled him with a perverse satisfaction that only he could truly understand.

In that moment, John Murphy was a force of nature, just as destructive and deadly as the storm that raged outside. And as the lightning danced across the sky, illuminating the twisted smile that graced his face, there could be no doubt that a new nightmare had been unleashed upon the unsuspecting world.

John’s mind wandered to thoughts of Valerie Law and her agents, the annoyance bubbling up like a cauldron of boiling rage. They’d treated him like any other run-of-the-mill serial killer, their simple minds incapable of grasping the true depth of his purpose. They’d labeled him a monster, a madman, without ever truly understanding his motivations. It was an insult to his intelligence, and it fanned the flames of his anger.

He saw himself not as a killer, but as a force for vengeance, a vigilante carrying out his own special brand of justice. In his twisted worldview, he was doing society a favor, ridding it of the undesirables and the weak, pruning the branches of humanity to ensure the strong would flourish. He believed the FBI should be thanking him, not chasing him down like a common criminal.

As he stood in the dark, his ears pricked up, listening for any sounds within the building. The storm outside was deafening, but he’d honed his senses over the years, becoming one with the shadows that surrounded him. Every creak, every groan of the old building seemed to speak to him, whispering its secrets in the darkness.

He prowled through the gloom, his anger simmering beneath the surface like a volcano ready to erupt. With each step he took, he reaffirmed his belief in his twisted mission, his righteous indignation growing stronger. He would not allow the FBI, or anyone else for that matter, to undermine his purpose.

John paused, the sound of something moving in the shadows catching his attention. His eyes scanned the darkness, his instincts on high alert. He was a predator in his element, a hunter stalking his prey. The slightest sound, the faintest hint of movement, and he would strike with the ferocity of a wild beast.

For now, though, he seemed to be alone in the darkness, accompanied only by his thoughts and the relentless storm outside. But John Murphy knew that solitude was a luxury he couldn’t afford for long. The world was his hunting ground, and there was no time to waste.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Will felt another shudder run through him as the thunder cracked outside.

The storm continued to rage, the wind howling like a chorus of tormented souls, while rain battered the windows of Shady Pines. Inside, the atmosphere was equally tense as Will and Charlie sat across from Dr. Irene Stadler in a quiet room, its fabricated, pastoral walls doing little to alleviate the feeling of unease that hung in the air.

Dr. Stadler seemed defensive, her arms crossed tightly across her chest as if she were trying to shield herself from their questions. Will couldn’t shake the feeling that she was hiding something, and the thought gnawed at the back of his mind like a persistent itch.

“We need to know anything you can tell us about where John Murphy might go, Doctor,” Will said, his voice steady despite the turmoil he felt inside. He was scared for Valerie and her sister, haunted by the idea that John Murphy might have taken them hostage.

“That would be privileged information,” Dr. Stadler replied, her voice clipped and cold. “I cannot betray the confidentiality of my patients.”

Charlie’s temper flared, the fire in his eyes mirroring the lightning that streaked across the darkened sky outside. “People are dead, Doctor, and your patient is a dangerous killer. You can’t hide behind confidentiality now. Lives are at stake!”

Will watched as Dr. Stadler’s face tightened, her eyes narrowing as she weighed her options. He knew that Charlie was right, but he also knew that pushing her too hard might make her retreat further into her shell. The key was finding a way to get her to open up, to make her see the urgency of the situation.

“Please, Dr. Stadler,” Will said softly, his eyes pleading with her to understand. “We’re just trying to keep people safe. If you know anything that can help us find John Murphy, you have a responsibility to share it.”

The storm outside blared on, punctuating their words with peals of thunder and the relentless drumming of rain. Inside the quiet room, Will felt a different storm was brewing, the tension between the three of them reaching a boiling point as they navigated the treacherous waters of their conversation.

The doctor stayed silent.

“Dr. Stadler,” Will then said, touching Charlie’s arm to stop him from standing up and shouting again. “As a fellow professional and doctor, I am quite aware how important your oath to your patients is. But there must be something you can tell us. After all, when the board and the FBI investigate every single person at this facility, those who help will be cast in a positive light. While those who hinder…”

Finally, Dr. Stadler seemed to relent, her shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world had suddenly settled upon them. “I… I only just received him as a patient. We had a single session and that’s been it. But…”

“The transfer of notes?” Will said with anticipation.

She nodded. “Yes. I have been studying all of his case files and the notes of the other doctors whohavehandled John Murphy’s therapy sessions…”

She looked at them, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and resolve. “John Murphy is a deeply disturbed man, driven by some purpose. But no one ever discovered what that was.”

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