Collaborative mystery part 4 goes up today and it’s the last prompt for the story. I’ll post the story in its entirety next Monday. If you want to read part 1 of the mystery, click here. For part 2, click here. For part three, click here.
If you are new to this kind of writing prompt, here are the rules:
- I’ll write two or three sentences in the comments to start the next section of the mystery.
- Anyone who wants to may write two or three more sentences.
- Please no graphic content.
“Dad!” I recognize my sixteen-year-old son’s voice.
I spin toward him and nearly collapse, my heart beat thumping in my head. “Don’t scare me like that again. Run after her!” I point toward Geralyn’s direction of escape.
“What? Who? Are you still taking pictures out here?” He asks questions like he’s still three.
“That missing valedictorian girl, Geralyn. She’s here!” We start to run together.
“You saw her?! What’s she doing? Is she okay?” Again with his nonstop questions.
A new voice stops us in our tracks faster than when Scamp catches the scent of a squirrel. “The real question is, what are YOU doing?” We slowly turn on our heels and see a hairy guy who could take on a bouncer. I gulp and nudge Tyler behind me. The bouncer guy walks toward us, obviously aware that his presence is all he needs to scare us into his control.
“Two choices,” his voice booms. “You can follow her and I take you all captive, or you can stay here and I take you all captive. Plus your wife,” his gaze penetrates me. “502 East Oak Street, correct?”
What is going on? I glance back at Tyler and I inhale sharply when I see what he’s about to do.
The bouncer guy pulls a gun from the pocket of his coat and motions with it. “Move.”
Tyler freezes, and I step between him and Bouncer Guy. “So we have no choice?” I say.
Grinning, he reveals crooked teeth. “None at all.”
I gulp. “I guess we’ll–” I throw my camera at him, yelling. “Run!”
Bouncer Guy jerks, stepping back, and I hurl myself on him, grabbing for his gun hand.
We hit the ground, dead leaves exploding underneath us, the gun flying out of his hand.
Tyler races in and kicks the man in the head until he goes limp.
“I told you to run.” I shout, sitting up, glancing around for the weapon.
“I couldn’t leave you, Dad.”
Through the mist I spot the gun laying beside a truck with no doors.
I roll to my knees when another figure detaches from the mist. A woman.
I gasp. It’s the woman in the–wait. She resembles the woman in the photo but she’s not the same person.
She tilts her head to one side, her gaze gliding to the gun that lays between us.
I pull my legs under me, my eyes fixed on this woman, who breaks into a not-quite sane smile.
Scary!
Her voice startles me as much as her showing up out of the mist. “Are you here to rescue us?”
“Who is us?” I make my way to the gun, slowly so I don’t scare her.
Out of the mist, I see Geralyn timidly return. Tyler, who is using his belt to tie up Bouncer Guy’s wrists, pauses long enough mid-buckle to toss his phone to Geralyn. “Call 9-1-1!”
Geralyn catches the phone but looks confused. “Why?”
I’m angry now. Whatever Bouncer Guy has been doing has totally traumatized these ladies. “Because you don’t have to live in fear of this monster of a guy!” Both ladies jump enough to remind me to rein in my anger.
I hold the gun towards Bouncer Guy and tell Tyler to call 9-1-1. Between the gun and his restrained wrists, I can keep him at bay until the cops arrive.
Geralyn quietly asks, “Should I get the others now?”
“What others?” I ask. I hear Tyler explaining our location to the dispatcher. Please hurry.
“The rest of the people and animals he’s training for his traveling show.”
I feel my face blanch. People and animals? Is a lion going to appear next? Bouncer Guy mumbles something in his unconscious stupor. “If you…tell…kill…you….” His eyes roll back again. Sirens are coming now, fast.
I look at Geralyn and the other lady. “You’ll be safe now.” I’ve still got the gun aimed, just in case. The cops have parked and are running through the woods toward us.
Tyler hangs up and gives me a nervous smile. “I guess you got your story, Dad.”
“Better. I watched my son be a hero.”