\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1862892-Visions-of-Violence---Chapter-1
Item Icon
by Dawn Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Mystery · #1862892
Matt Shaverson has incomplete fragments of memory-is he a killer?
CHAPTER 1

The headaches were back. With it, they brought the tension…the darkness…the fear. Fear of losing control. He would experience memory loss and start “hunting” again. The last time this happened, the outcome was catastrophic….

* * *

Jenny Evans arrived at work…another annoying day at her measly job as a sales agent for a life insurance company. It wasn't a job she ever dreamt of, but she just fell into it when times got rough a few years ago, and that bastard, Danny, left her.
Once the economy started to tank, her last boss told her he had to let her go. She was thriving as a Manager for a small publishing firm. She had loved reading since she was a child. She read everything she could get her hands on. She kept a journal and even wrote poems and stories. Then, she got the droll speech about how great she was, but they weren't doing so well, her salary was too high, blah blah blah. So, she wound up on unemployment until her dear friend, Viv, got her this job.
Jenny was a good sales agent - always in the top four, but it didn't fulfill her. She needed something more....

* * *

Viv Williams was a vivacious 35-year old. Her hair looked like spun gold, and she'd be the first to tell you it came from a bottle. Never pulling punches, she was a blunt, sassy Jersey girl - but not like those bimbos plastered on every goddamned tv station, ruining the image of her beloved state. Pissed her off every time she heard a reference to it. She could make any sailor blush with the way she cursed, and yet it suited her. She could somehow get away with it and not have it diminish her femininity at all.
Standing 5'8" and curvaceous, she was proud of her looks. They had opened doors for her. Once her high heels opened them, she could show everyone she had a brain as well as ample boobs. After all, she was the top sales agent at PMS. What a hideous acronym to overcome, yet she did it. She sold the most life insurance policies every year at Peter Mann Services.
Why did he have to name his company after a damn female medical ailment? Typical man, he didn't think, that's why. Didn't he have a single advisor who could give him a hint it might not be a good marketing move? No matter. She grinned at herself in the mirror. She was wearing her favorite red dress. okay it was bright red and not exactly "appropriate" for work, but she would throw a nice black blazer over it and add her new shiny pin.
Jenny gave it to her for her birthday last week - a beautiful crystal snowflake. She was so sweet and thoughtful. She knew she had her work cut out for her. Jenny was feeling extra low these days, and she wasn't sure why. Usually, she told her everything, but she was holding something back....

* * *

He watched her from his car. She was a vision. Not too skinny like all those other women he had run into. She had luscious curves, the way a woman should have. She was rushing to go to work, no doubt. That was okay...he had been watching her for weeks, this “hunting mode” having taken hold again. The obsession and strange urges. That's what he called it. He didn't know how else to explain it to himself.
Ahhhh...there she was, walking to her car, those full hips swaying...he could feel the arousal. Just as he grabbed the door handle, he felt it...BAM!! Some asshole had rear ended his parked car.
After the jarring sensation his body felt, he was immediately concerned that she would discover him, but he could see her car was already halfway down the street.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” It was some old coot with huge glasses. Figured. Why the hell did they let these biddies on the streets?
He snarled at her that he was fine, as he assessed the damage to his rear bumper. She was lucky it had some “give” to it. Otherwise, he was in a mood to strangle her scrawny neck and toss her in the woods. He couldn’t risk it in this neighborhood, where all the houses were so close together. Someone may remember his car and what he looked like. Thanks to this old bag, he’d have to use another car next time, and he couldn’t risk these daytime visits anymore…

* * *

Jenny slumped in her chair as Viv swept into her cubicle. “How’s it going, today?” she beamed, tossing her hair to one side. Her perfect red dress and black blazer matching her perfect black and red shoes. If Viv wasn’t her best friend, she would have hated her.

“Same shit, different day.” she replied.

“Seriously Jen, I know you’re going through a rough patch, but I feel like you’re holding out on me, and I want to help. You’ve been angry and mopey for weeks. I know you really hate it here, but there isn’t much else out there for you right now. Is that it?”

“Partly. It’s not what I envisioned doing for the rest of my life, but it’s also just me. I’m stuck in a rut and don’t know how to get out of it. You know I’d rather be sitting with my nose in a book or even writing myself.” She hesitated to tell her that she had tried starting a novel a hundred times, but it just wasn’t working. Her mind was blank…she could only get a few sentences going before her brain went off in a different direction…another failure in her life.

“You need to either shit or get off the pot, hon.” Viv put her hand on Jenny’s shoulder gently.

“You have such a way with words!” she laughed and temporarily felt good inside.

“Isn’t working at the library helping at all? Why don’t you join a book club or something?”

“I might. It’s a good idea.”

Just then, they were interrupted when the receptionist motioned to them. It was time for the sales meeting.

Peter Mann entered the conference room, amid a sea of phony smiling faces. He knew the agents didn’t look forward to this monthly meeting of sales numbers and pep talks. First of all, Viv seemed untouchable, so that was a “given.” Even though the team of eight acted like it was a joke, he knew they secretly whispered how she must be giving him some seriously good head. That couldn’t be further from the truth. She may be beautiful, but her talent for selling was unmatched. Her effervescent personality just drew people to her. She was a natural, and the rest of these agents were like background music.

* * *

“Are you having the dreams again?” his shrink was asking, but he wasn’t really listening. His thoughts were still on that damn old lady…he still had the urge to wring her neck. .

“Matthew, are you with me?” she had snapped her fingers in front of his face and smiled.

“Yeah, sorry.” He rubbed his face with his hands, exhausted with this ruse. “No, no dreams.” he lied.

“Well, that’s good. It means you’re making progress. How about the tension? Do you need a refill on your Haldol? Have you been taking it every day?”

For one weak moment, he caved, “Yeah, but it’s not working. I don’t feel any better. I’m still in a funk.”

“Okay, perhaps we can increase the dosage and add a mood stabilizer, such as Trileptal.”

Mood stabilizer…he wanted to laugh out loud. Was this chick serious? Nothing could help him. He wasn’t even sure he wanted help. Sometimes, the adrenaline of the hunt was too much to give up…it’s like he was meant for this…the only thing he was good at anymore.

He could barely remember the days before all this. He knew he used to be popular in school, he wasn’t withdrawn then. His home life was normal, in the sense that both his parents seemed happily married and stayed that way until their car accident a few years ago, which took both their lives. They would have wanted it that way…to die together, so that one of them wasn’t left to miss the other. He was the star of his school’s soccer team, and got decent grades. He had a few friends he stayed in touch with to this day. However, he had to pretend he was somewhat the same…the happy-go-lucky guy who was “up” for anything. This was a hard task, since he was anything but happy these days. If he really let himself dwell on it, most of the time, he missed feeling that way, but this other half of him, which seemed to be taking over, was happier being mad at the world…but not her…she of the lovely golden hair and shapely hips…she was perfection.

That night, he was on the prowl again…this is where he felt his most comfortable and powerful. He had started to “up” his game a little, wanting to be a tad more adventurous. While part of him needed to stalk, another part of him yearned to be loved. He still held out the romantic notion that someone…anyone…might want him again…the way Lily used to before things went horribly wrong. He didn’t drink, so he found the best places to meet smart, like-minded women…book stores, libraries, even grocery stores. He would watch and determine who was single by the way they shopped, the books they chose to read, the way they carried themselves. He was an expert observer by now. He’d been doing it for years.

Tonight, he went to his local library to see what might be shaking. He longed for peace and quiet, and these “haunts” helped soothe his tension-filled mind. It somehow stopped the battling thoughts within...hate…love. He viewed himself as a tortured soul who just needed the right woman to make him “normal” again, whatever that was. Someone who could tamp down the nasty thoughts and get rid of them forever…no more drugs that didn’t work, no more therapy that wasted his time.

He knew the library by heart and also knew the staff by name. He was always cordial and gracious and kept to himself. He would sit quietly in his “usual spot” in the corner. The same old faux leather chair, with his feet up on the ottoman, right near the audiobooks section. He would bring the latest hit mystery book and read it as he stealthily people-watched.

Usually, they left him to his own devices, but tonight, Jenny Evans tapped on his shoulder, startling him for a moment. He gave a little start. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “ I just wanted to let you know we’re starting a new trend. We’ll be serving tea and coffee over by the membership table. “ she smiled nervously, “Trying to compete with the book stores, you know. We have to keep up.”

“Oh sure, that makes sense.” he returned in a whisper, with a genuine smile, “Thanks.” He usually hated being interrupted while he was trolling, but Jenny was okay. Surprisingly, he found himself tolerating her. They had spoken on a few occasions, about different books and authors, and found they both had a penchant for mysteries and English royalty novels. She seemed sweet and kind, the type of girl that could make a guy feel wanted and happy. If he was in a wistful mood, he would daydream about her. If he were ever to settle down, which he wasn’t sure he could since he had this warped, diseased mind turning him into a rabid animal, she might be the type to do it with…but then, where would his vision fit into that scenario?

He knew she was unattainable, one of those women that only the best of men could snag. That surely wasn’t him anymore. Maybe years ago, before he let things with Lily rot away, and turn him bitter and inward. She left a sour taste in his mouth after all the time he spent on her. Wasted time, in the end. She screwed him over royally, and he never saw it coming. That was the worst part…having his “buddies” laugh at him about how they all knew she was screwing around behind his back. How was that something to chuckle about with your so-called friends? He took it to heart, dumping those chumps, along with the notion that he’d ever be in a relationship again. He just couldn’t trust. He refused to open his heart, or what was left of it, to anyone to be smashed again.

* * *

Jenny didn’t want to admit it, but she had a soft spot for him. No ring on his finger. He came in at least once a week, always alone, and he kept to himself. He pulled off the shaved-head look, and his eyes were icy blue. On the occasions he did engage in conversation, she happily discovered they had the same taste in genres. Not many women, much less men, had an interest in British monarchy. She could talk for hours about Queen Elizabeth I and King Henry VIII.

She hadn’t told Viv about this sadness within…or that she was going to follow this mysterious new friend of hers…he seemed so lonely and sad, just like her. What could it hurt? It wasn’t like stalking, was it? She’d read enough mystery novels and seen enough movies to give her a sense of how to “tail” someone without being caught. She wanted to know where he lived, if he really was alone. Maybe, if she had the balls someday, she’d casually ask him out for a cup of coffee. First, she had to make sure he was ripe for the picking. The last thing she needed was more rejection. Once a man left you for another woman, it pretty much smashed your spirit or any semblance of self-confidence you might have. Jenny never had much to begin with, so when Danny, her live-in boyfriend of several years, took off with some waitress, she was stunned. He also managed to stiff her with a $3,000 loan she had co-signed for him that he conveniently never paid back to the bank.

Her heart had frozen like a winter river since then, but now that she had started talking to Matt, she could feel it cracking like an April sun would do to the thickened ice on the very top…melting it ever so slowly.

She was a pretty woman herself, but she could never see it, no matter how many times Viv tried to show her. She never needed makeup since she was blessed with flawless skin that was still as smooth as a newborn’s bottom. She was also 35 like Viv; however, unlike Viv, who was beautiful in her own right, Jenny had naturally blond hair. Whereas Viv’s wafted languidly past her shoulders, Jenny had a blunt cut, angling around her heart-shaped face. She had large brown eyes, and a dimple in her left cheek, which she always hated, but everyone else found adorable. She was 5’2” and could stand to lose about 20 pounds, but it was the one thing that didn’t bother her. Too many women starved themselves just to attain weight levels that were unrealistic and impossible to maintain. If some man was so vain as to want her for what she looked like, she didn’t want him anyway.

* * *

He spied an attractive redhead, sitting in a soft cushy chair by the mysteries. He’d never seen her here before. Her legs were crossed, and he could see a hint of thigh under her tangerine skirt. She seemed intent on her reading, and he noticed it was the latest Patterson novel. His thoughts began to race…should he approach her? No, that would be stupid. Play it cool. Wait until she’s ready to leave and follow her, at a distance of course. There were spots in the parking lot that weren’t as well lit as they should be. He could approach her there, if no one else was around. Why was he so nervous? Was he feeling rusty? Granted, it had been a while, but come on. Was he losing his nerve?

Just then, she looked at her watch, closed the book and started gathering her things. He watched her head out the front door. Quickly, he stood, making sure he didn’t walk too fast behind her. Jenny was busy re-stocking shelves, so she hadn’t noticed him. He waited until the redhead swung through the heavy glass doors and made her way out to the parking area before he followed suit out the doors. He scanned the lot…all clear…it was quiet and dark. She headed toward her car, which unfortunately, was parked close to his. He didn’t want to spook her too soon. As they approached the cars, she spun around, her hair flying behind her, “Listen perv, I carry mace, so if you step one inch closer to me, I’m going to use it!”

Taken aback, he stuttered, “I’m n..n..not following you, ma’am. It seems you parked next to my car.” he gestured toward his own clunker while pulling out his keys and dangling them in the air so she could see.

She chuckled nervously, “Oh my, I’m awful sorry for being such a bitch.” She let out a breath and gave a dazzling smile, “You just can’t be too careful anymore.”

He moved closer to his own car, unlocking the door, “I understand. Have a nice evening.” then he bolted from the scene and started berating himself.

He pulled out of the parking lot, drove a few streets down, and pulled over. He began slamming his fists against the wheel and screaming. You stupid motherfucker! What is wrong with you, you fucking pussy? You can’t even keep it together anymore! You’re not a hunter, you’re a goddamned joke! You’re not even a man! That’s why Lily screwed around on you. You can’t do anything right anymore! It’s just pathetic.

He was spent. Out of energy…out of the desire to live…he was tired of the inner voices, the turmoil he felt nearly every day. His stomach always in knots, his head pounding. Talking to some shrink that didn’t help, taking pills that didn’t help! He took a deep breath, put the car in drive, and slowly drove toward home. If he had turned to his right, he would have seen Jenny, ducking down in her car, watching in both horror and pity….

© Copyright 2012 Dawn (dawnd at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1862892-Visions-of-Violence---Chapter-1