Indigo Road

I was taking my usual walk home from work. Most commuted to the office building by car, as it’s a few miles away on the direct road. However, while my home was a bit closer, I found that it could be an easy walk if I took a shortcut through Indigo Road. This used to be a popular road traversed by trucks a few years back, but much use of the path with little maintenance led it to horrible conditions. Literally nobody wanted to drive down the road in risk of wrecking their vehicle along the way. For me, it was only a fifteen minute walk to work, and another fifteen back. Nothing wrong by me.
That night, everything was fine. I just finished up at the office for the night, and began my usual journey home. I checked my phone and realized that I had lost track of time, and it was past eleven. It was completely dark, and I could only see a few feet in front of me. The weather had been cloudy all day, so there was no glow from the moon or stars. Turning my music on and twisting in my earphones, I began to walk more briskly than average.

“Don’t worry,” I began to think to myself. “You’ve done this plenty of times before.”

Still, something just didn’t feel right. The peaceful solitude I felt from my walks seemed....invaded.

“You’re being paranoid,” I kept thinking to myself.

I began feeling slightly worried. The more I began thinking about it, the more I felt like I wasn’t alone. A few minutes past, and I spoke to myself out loud.

“Enough,” I said.

The stress began to move off of my shoulders. I felt a feeling of strength for overcoming my paranoia.
All returned to a calm state. I was less than five minutes to the end of Indigo Road, and only a few more from home. I began to quietly chuckle thinking about my recent fears, and how I was being completely ridiculous for thinking something was going on. Then, my foot tripped over an unknown object in front of me. I fell to the ground for a split moment, and the fear I felt earlier crashed back upon me like a tsunami to a coastline. I immediately jumped back to my feet and began to sprint home. I never stopped for breath, and I didn’t dare look back to see whatever may be right behind me.

Less than a minute later I arrived home. I had already sifted through my keys and found my house key. With great luck, I was able to push the key in the door the first try. I forced open the door and slammed it back shut, all without taking a single glance back. After locking the door, I feel to my knees, completely out of breath. I rested for a few moments, and building all the courage I could, I looked out the window closest to my door. Nothing was at the doorstep. A feeling of relief, but also disappointment began to set in. I found myself not only being paranoid, but completely crazy.

The next day, I stayed home from work. I felt rather sick after the night before, perhaps because of the shock of the situation. I also didn’t sleep that well due to the residing feelings of fear and paranoia. I took walks around the neighborhood that day to help forget of the experience, though I went nowhere near Indigo Road. Reviewing the event, I must have tripped over a large crack in the road, considering it was always in terrible condition.

A few days later, after a some rather boring days at the office, I read through the local newspaper. Looking at the Crime and Justice section, a rather interesting article caught my eye:
“Serial Killer Caught. Confirmed Psychotic After Interview.”

I had lived and worked in a quiet, uneventful town. A story like this was an article a resident wouldn’t usually see. Apparently, a killer who had already claimed the lives of two men and three women had recently been caught after a failed attempt of another killing.

What I read next began to make me tremble. He was caught not too far from Indigo Road.

But the part that terrified me the most, which brought back that same paranoid feeling, was the reason he was confirmed psychotic.

In an interrogation with the killer, the man described his method of choosing and killing his victims. He would stalk the outsides of buildings, waiting to spot someone walk outside alone. He would tail them for a few blocks, and make sure they were distracted by something such as a phone call or music. When and if they left the main section of town, he would get closer, and closer, until he was only a few feet behind the victim. The man was obsessed with paranoid and panicking victims, so he would walk right behind his target, minute after minute, until he finally felt satisfied. He would then trip the victim from behind, and finish the job.

If at any moment the victim looked back, he would kill them before they could act.