Trail Of A Killer
By: C.D. Leeworthy





Prologue

Heavy panting was the only sound filling the scene besides the distant sirens from afar. The man walked awkwardly, blood dribbled from his chin and he coughed every so often replenishing the flow from his mouth to his chin. He held a blood stained knife in one hand and held his side with the other. He wore a white long sleeved shirt with diagonal black stripes and black jeans. He had long black hair that was coated in blood. It was crusty and his hair hung in clumps and swayed when he walked. His black tramp beard was coated with blood. He leaned against a wall and walked around the corner to the back of a building. He slumped next to a dumpster, hanging his head limply he panted and coughed heavily. More blood trickled down his chin. He went to get up but lost his balance and fell. Cursing under his breath. It began to rain. “Great.” He grunted, “I get to not only die of blood loss but of cold.” He tried to get up but fell flat on his face. He gritted his teeth stifling his cry of pain. He felt his grip on life fading. But despite this he laughed.
“Hah,” he wheezed face contorting, “The great mysterious murderer Rupert Daedalus brought down at his prime, how repugnant.” He features softened, “But perfect. If I were allowed to choose how I would die…this…this would be it.” He laughed softly before he was overcome by a sensation, which made him cough a more of his blood. He looked the pool; he could see his reflection in it. He looked awful. No doubt the police or someone will find him. But it would be too late. No one is at this particular building, not today on Canada Day at least. He laughed and waited for death’s hold to take him, when something happened that he did not suspect. The back door of the restaurant was open and a man, who looked to be mid 20’s, with black hair, partial cowlick, and tan complexion appeared before him. The man rushed to him and asked softly at first but grew more urgent as he understood his condition.
“Sir?” he called quietly, “Sir…HEY!”  Rupert slumped his head down and closed his eyes, letting out his last breath. He knew he was done for he saw his mother, father, and sister in his mind. He would be letting them down dieing here and not returning. He felt shame wash over him. He waited for death.

But it didn’t come.