When Luck Runs Out

Chester Malloy walked down the well-worn path to the lake, working up a sweat in the hot, humid July morning; it would be a great day for watching. Chester liked the hot summer months the best, that’s when the locals like to hike to the small, secluded bay on the east side of the lake, to skinny dip. Even in the spring and fall months, when the kids weren’t there, Chester would take the canoe out and keep himself in shape.

He looked back at the rundown house he lived in, left to him by his parents when they passed away. They left enough money, in an escrow account, to make sure he would be able to get along after they died, but Chester didn’t have much need of money, other than to keep the electricity on and pay the land taxes. He drove his dad’s old truck, when he did venture into town for supplies, and on the rare occasion he went anyplace for recreational fun.

He was getting up there in years, and they had not been kind to him. His body, like his mind, just didn’t work right. He was smart enough, but he didn’t think like normal people do, or at least that’s the way his mom explained it when he would get into trouble at school. The teachers and administrative staff, thought Chester needed psychiatric help, but his parents knew better and took care of him. When he was in junior high, he took a younger student into the boiler room and was feeling her up when the custodian came in. He was drug to the office and kicked out of school; his mom never sent him to school again and tried to make him understand how this wasn’t right to do.

But, Chester never really learned that it was wrong, he did however, learn that it wasn’t acceptable and he also learned how to hide his perverted nature, first from his parents and then, over the years, from those who lived around here. They knew he wasn’t a normal guy and everyone mostly just left him alone. He didn’t mind, he enjoyed being left alone to his private thoughts and desires.

He turned back to the lake and finished walking down the dirt path to the shoreline and his canoe. He stowed his gear in it, pushed it out into the water and in one graceful step was inside and sitting. He quickly paddled out passed the lillypads and reeds to the open water. Once free from the overgrown shallows in front of his shack of a house, he turned the canoe towards the east and paddled along the edge of the weeds. Soon enough he was next to the small opening in the reeds and tall grasses that provided just enough access to the small bay the kids like to use for skinny dipping.

The little bay, called Buff Bay by the locals, was only about a hundred yards across, almost completely round, and shallow. It was a sandy bowl off the mail lake that had just a small, well-hidden access from the main lake, just big enough that Chester could pull his canoe into it and be hidden from the lake and the bay. He liked to drop his anchor, a small eight by eight cement block, and watch the kids swim. Of course, they didn’t know he was watching them, filming them, and often satisfying his perverted needs with his hand while they swam and sunbathed in the small clearing that served as their beach.

Chester stopped short of his preferred observation point and slipped off his brown shirt. He took his pack and removed his camouflaged, hooded sweatshirt and the small container that held some old Halloween make-up. He used the make-up to smudge up his face and then took out his video recorder and stand. He had rigged the camera stand to clamp to the side of the canoe so he could record the kids swimming and sunbathing while keeping his hands free for other things. He used to use a polaroid camera but the film was expensive and the woman at the drugstore always looked at him like she knew what he was using it for.

Then, one day while shopping for some used clothing at a thrift store, he seen a video camera that used VHF tapes. He had a VCR and television, and the guy in the store showed him how to use the camera and even provided him with a box of blank tapes. He also told him how he could record on pre-recorded tapes which made it easy for Chester to buy more tapes when he needed them. He would just pick out some movies and then once home, cover the recording indentation with a tape.

He still had his photo albums that he liked to look through, but the tapes were even better and he watched them all the time. He had quite a collection going and just wished that he would have had the video recorder when he had enjoyed the young girls so many years before. But, there wasn’t anything he could do about that, so the photographs had to do. It would be fun to grab a young girl and enjoy her again while video-recording it all, but the last time he almost got caught with the girl’s body by some hunters. That was twelve years ago and Chester was still afraid that he would get caught if they body was ever found.

He had the camera clamped down tight and ready to record. He pulled the hood up to conceal his bald head and quietly dipped the paddle into the water and moved forward to his vantage point. He was situated just right to see and film through a small opening in the weeds that he kept trimmed, but he was almost completely concealed from anyone on shore or swimming in the bay. The camouflage also helped to keep him invisible, and if anyone swam out too close, he could just lean down and stay out of site. Not that they would be able to see him, he’d been coming here since before his parents had died. Back then, he liked to work his way through the woods once in a while and take some girls underwear and then vanish back into the woods. Then, when he sat out here in the canoe, he could take care of his business with his hand and soil the girl’s panties. On his next visit through the woods, he would leave the cum filled panties and take a new pair or two.

It worked to keep the kids thinking some pervert was hiding in the woods and jacking off while watching them, but they got smart and started having someone watch the woods, trying to catch him. He likely would have gotten caught had he snuck up through the woods that day, but he had arrived before them in the canoe and seen them set their plan up. The girls had boyfriends that hid in the woods at different places to watch for him while the girls laughed and played, trying to lure him in. He enjoyed the show and soiled two pairs of panties that afternoon while the idiot boyfriends hid in the woods and watched for him.

Later in the week, he was in town and seen the girls at the store getting some pop. He was just leaving with some groceries and followed them in the old truck to see where they went. They looked a lot alike and both went to the same house, so Chester figured them for sisters. He went along the road past their house then turned at the next corner and drove home. Two nights later, he walked along the lakeshore to the edge of town and then carefully snuck over to the girls house. It was a dark night, late, and a school night, so he figured most people would be in for the night. He watched the house from a hiding spot in some bushes and was pleasantly surprised, and delighted, when a light came on and the girls closed the bedroom door.

He watched them change, then one opened the window a bit and pulled the curtains almost closed. A half hour later, the lights went out in the room. An hour later and the entire house was dark. An hour after that, a little after one in the morning, Chester quietly emerged from his hiding spot and crept to the girl’s window. It was open about a third of the way, enough room he could easily slip through. The screen was nylon and easy to slice through with a razor blade. With little noise at all, he had the screen removed and slipped through the girl’s window. They had a nightlight that made it easy for him to find his way through the room to their bunkbeds.

He stood and watched them for a couple of minutes, fantasizing about what he wanted to do to them. But, he knew the longer he stayed in the room, the greater his risk of getting caught. So, he carefully removed the panties he had soiled while watching them that day. He had worked up a nice fresh glob of semen earlier and deposited it by the old, dried, and crusty stain. He carefully set them out on the pillow next to the sleeping girls head. He did the same with her sister in the bottom bunk and hoped that both of them would roll into the sticky mess during the night. Then, he slid out the window as quietly as he had slipped in and vanished into the night. He knew from watching television that the family would likely call the cops and they would have a DNA sample from him, but they had nothing to check it against, so he didn’t worry about it.
Chester pulled his thoughts back from that night, so many years ago and took out an old thermos bottle full of cold water. The cup was missing so he just undid the stopper and sipped right from the bottle. He had never gone through the woods again, knowing that if he did, he would likely get caught. He continued to spy from his canoe, but only after he took a month break. It was during that month that he had decided to go find a young girl and have some fun with her.

He had driven a long way away, to the next state over. He found a small town and soon a trusting ten-year-old girl that he tricked into his old pickup. He took her to the big swamp up by the Canadian border and enjoyed her for almost a week. He knew the area because his dad had taken him hunting here. He had his dad’s old canvas tent and set it up. He tied the girl up, hands and feet and gagged her so she couldn’t cry or yell. Then he cut her clothing off and fondled her for a while.

She tried to pull away, so he spent a few minutes punching her all over her naked body, then raped her. He repeated this over the next five days, sometimes two or three times a day. He had brought some food and water along, but not for her. No, he just enjoyed her until she was so beaten and smelled so bad it turned him off. He drug her by her legs through the trees to the edge of the floating bog and hacked a hole through the mass of floating vegetation, then shoved her through it into the soft peat underneath. With a long pole cut from a tree, he pushed her down into the soft muck and then watched as the sod closed up over her muddy grave. Gone but not forgotten; he had taken a lot of pictures to remember all the fun they had shared.

Buff Bay was deserted this time of day, even though it was plenty warm out. Chester was sweating under the sweatshirt, but he didn’t pay any attention to the trickle of sweat running down his back, he was used to it. He looked at his watch, almost noon, someone should be along soon. He took out a peanut butter sandwich and took a bite. He ate half of it as he remembered the second girl.

She was older, and from a different town. She had not told him how old she was, being deaf, she couldn’t. But he guessed by her blossoming breasts she was around twelve or thirteen. Kind of old, but he had the opportunity to grab her and drive off, so he did. He took her to his campsite and set the tent up, enjoyed her just like he did the first girl, and took a lot of pictures. She lasted a bit longer and he stayed out for eight days. On the ninth day she was unconscious, so it ruined the fun of watching her fight as he shoved her into the peat moss and then beneath it with a long pole, just like the first girl. It had been a few years, three he thought, between them.

The last girl had been five years later; she was also ten years old. He didn’t know it at the time but heard her age when they talked about her on the news. He had gone to yet another small town to look around when luck was with him and he came across a little girl walking down the gravel road he was on. He took secondary roads and avoided the highway as much as possible.

He stopped and talked to her; she had been walking her dog and it pulled the leash from her little fingers and ran off down the road. She knew he had run off to the neighbor’s house, again, and she was going to get him. Chester told her that he had seen the dog but didn’t know it was hers. He offered to drive her to the missing dog and she climbed right in. Instead of taking her to the dog, however, he took her to the swamp and enjoyed her, like the others, for a week. She wasn’t very strong and Chester was afraid she’d die on him, so he risked taking her to the floating bog in the afternoon.

He knew he should wait, just to be safe, but he so wanted to watch her fight and writhe as she went into the cold, wet, peat. He had come here late in the fall and it was pretty cold. She was likely dying of hypothermia since he didn’t feed her, give her any water, or wasn’t about to share his sleeping bag with her. So, on the seventh day, he raped her and when she seemed unresponsive, slapped her a couple of times. It seemed to pull her out of it and he wanted to hurry up and enjoy watching her sink in the muck before she passed out or died.

He packed up his gear, cut a pole and then stood her up and slapped her a couple more times. She started crying… good. He pushed her over and grabbed her tied legs and started dragging her to the floating bog. He was just about there when he heard the sound of a shotgun. He wasn’t sure what direction it had come from but it was close. Then, he heard voices. It sounded like two men talking back and forth and they were getting closer.

Chester drug the girl over to some brush and punched her in the face, hard. She went down and was very still. He hurried to pull leaves over her and then walked a short distance back to the path he had been following. He just got there when the two hunters came into view. They called out to him and he answered. He was shitting bricks while they talked to him and was sure the girl would move and give herself away. They would likely shoot him when they found her and seen what he had done.

But, Chester was lucky, he had always been lucky. The girl didn’t move and they soon tired of talking to him and went on along their way. Chester also continued walking down the trail, towards the bog. They had asked him what he was doing and he said picking berries. They laughed at first, since it was too late in the fall for picking berries, but then the second one asked if he was looking for cranberries.

Chester had nodded. The same guy told his friend that’s why he has that pole, to make sure he doesn’t fall into a hole in the bog while looking for cranberries. That seemed to satisfy them and Chester had to make it look like that’s what he was doing. He wondered about the bog for a while, until he heard another shot a long way off. Figuring it was them, he felt safe going back to dispose of the girl.

He had a hard time finding her, all the areas looked the same. He kicked around in all the bushes until his foot hit something soft. He dug through the leaves and sure enough, it was the girl. She hadn’t moved at all, and when he tried to wake her up with a few slaps, realized she was dead. He threw her over his shoulder and hustled out to the bog, sunk her and then took off for his truck. He was still scared shitless when he got home and for the next three months thought every sound was the police coming to get him. He had always been too afraid to grab another girl after that, but he had taken lots of pictures and would often take out his albums, old family albums that he had taken out family and replaced them with the girls.

Chester heard voices and was pulled back to the here and now. He couldn’t tell much yet, but someone was coming. Hopefully girls. Sometimes boys would show up and Chester would have to watch them while he waited for girls. He didn’t mind little boys, but older ones just didn’t move him.

Most often, there would be a combination of girls and boys, teenagers, who came swimming and he would get a pretty good show. The best was when it was just a bunch of girls, though, as it was today. Five total, three of them looked to be fifteen to seventeen but the other two where young girls, Chester’s favorite. They looked to be about ten or eleven, just the right age. It was another lucky day for Chester.

He watched as they undressed and talked. He couldn’t understand what they said, he was just far enough out that their voices carried over the water in a muffled hush. That was good, if he couldn’t hear them, they wouldn’t hear the small noises he would soon be making. He worked his pants down and quietly slipped a jar of Vaseline out of his pack. He thought about putting the other half of his sandwich back in the bag, but ate it instead, holding it in one hand while he greased himself up with the other.

Chester watched as the girls splashed and played. He was good and hard now and his mind raced with images of what he would like to do to them as his hand slid up and down. He glanced over at the camera, and seen the image on the little screen was off a bit. He adjusted the angle a bit, then satisfied with the view, went back to working his hand up and down as he got closer and closer to spewing into the bottom of the canoe.

A slight breeze came up and the water around the canoe rippled. It felt good on his exposed bottom and he wished he could take off the sweatshirt and feel the cool breeze blow over his naked body while he jerked off. But, he couldn’t and the breeze was blowing in from the lake towards the shore, so it did little to comfort him under the heavy sweatshirt.

The older girls waded onto shore and soon sat in the grass watching the younger girls play. Then they started talking and Chester thought they looked at him. He felt a slight chill but they had already gone back to talking and carrying on, and they had not yelled for the younger girls. He thought to himself, “Always the lucky one, aren’t we?”

He resumed his task and soon was nearing that point when he would start moaning softly, just before he spewed his load into the bottom of the canoe. He was so caught up that he hadn’t even noticed the older girls getting dressed. He did notice when they called for the other two to come in and dry off, but they continued horse around in the water, just up to their knees. This gave Chester an even better view and he zoomed the camera up on them and was watching the little screen while he worked himself into a frenzy with his hand.

Had he been watching them instead of the camera, he would have seen the older girls vanish into the trees. But, he likely wouldn’t have thought nothing of it except they went off to smoke, desiring to hide from the little sisters so they wouldn’t tell on them. Either way, it would have worked out the same.

The older girls had picked up the smell of peanut butter while they splashed around with tehe two younger girls. In fact, it had been Tracy who had first noticed it. “Jodi, I smell peanut butter samwiches.”

Jodi thought her little sister was imagining it and was just going to tell her that when the smell invaded her nostrils, too. It wasn’t strong, but it was peanut butter. She asked the other two friends with her if they could smell it, and after a few sniffs, they nodded. Amy was the one who noticed the slight movement and that was enough to make out the form of Chester watching them.

She had turned into the slight breeze to smell and noticed the swaying of the tall grasses. Something else was there that didn’t move with them, and it only took a slight movement from Chester as he popped the last of his sandwich into his mouth. He was stroking himself with one had while he enjoyed his lunch and never gave it a second thought.

Once Jodi seen him, she alerted the others without pointing and soon they all three seen him out there. That’s when they went to shore and sat in the grass and discussed what to do next. Jodi said, “We should call the girls in and get out of here. When we get home we need to tell our parents about this and hope someone catches the perv.”

Rylee and Amy had a different idea. “Let’s sneak up on him and see who it is. We can hide in the tall grass and work our way out to him slow and quiet, until we can see who he is, then we will go home and turn him in.”

Jody wasn’t sure. “He may see us and what if he does and catches us?”

“We won’t have to get that close and if we don’t see who it is, what are the chances he will get caught. I say we sneak up closer and find out.”

Amy seconded her, “I agree, we need to find out who it is and then go home and tell everyone.”

Jodi nodded in agreement. “Just close enough to see who it is, then we split.”

They all agreed. Amy and Jodi called their younger sisters to come in and stay on shore. “Why, what you guys going to do.” Tracy asked.

“Never mind what we are doing, just stay up here and get dressed.” Jodi answered.

“Wait,” Rylee interjected just as Tracy and Kayla started to protest. “Let them stay in the water, just shallow so he doesn’t know we’re on to him.”

“Who?” Kayla asked.

“Never mind, just stay in the shallow water, up to your knees, and play until we get back, we will just be a couple minutes.”

“What-a-ya gonna do?” Asked Tracy.

“We’re going to look for some good sticks to roast marshmallows on when we get home. You mind now, no further than up to your knees, okay.” Jodi replied

The two younger girls nodded, “Okay.” They ran back to the water and soon were up to their knees. They looked back at the older girls, who all nodded that was alright, then went back to splashing and playing.

Rylee, Jodi, and Amy vanished into the trees and ducked down. The guy was still there, watching the younger girls. They stooped and went deeper into the trees, then turned and walked parallel to the lake for a while before turning again and heading for the water. Rylee led the way and the other two followed her. Soon the ground was wet and they were at the edge of the trees. The ground ran out in a narrow point here, and tall grass hid them from the person sitting on the other side. As quietly as they could, the three girls crept through the tall grass waiting for him to come into view.

They just reached the end of the ground and would have needed to wade to go any further when Jodi tugged on Rylee’s arm and pointed. Just a little to the left was a red canoe and the voyeur in it. The grass still blocked their view too much to see who it was, but they could see that whoever was watching was about to blow his load. They went a bit further and Rylee parted the grass and seen Chester. He seen them at the same time as the other two parted the grass to look out beside her. Chester didn’t bother to pull up his pants, he just grabbed the paddle and started backing out form his hiding place.

The problem was, he had to go right past the girls to get back to the lake and they had seen his face. As he paddled past them, he sneered at them, “I know who you are and I’ll be coming to visit you if you tell anyone.”

He thrust the paddle into the water in front of them with extra force, hoping to splash water up on them. Instead Rylee grabbed at the paddle and yanked it from his hands. “Give it back you little bitch or I’ll make you suffer.”
Rylee stood her ground, paddle in her hand and looked him in the eye. “No Chester, you’re not going to leave that easy. We are going to tell everyone that you’re a pervert and watching us.”

Chester sneered even more evilly at the three of them. “You bitches would be smart to be afraid of me, I have done a lot more than just watch and I’m going to do the same thing to you as I did to them other three if you say anything. Give my paddle back.”

“Chester, your just an old and crippled man, you can’t do anything other than jerk your limp dick.” Jodi told him. “We’re going to tell everyone that you’re not just a mental case, you’re a pervert.”

Chester was alarmed and scared. What if they did tell, maybe someone would figure out what he had done. He needed to get these girls and stop them. He jumped from the canoe, pants still half down, into the shallow water with more grace than any of them would have thought possible. As he splashed into the water he yanked his pants up and told them, “You should have listened, now it’s too late. When I get my hands on you I’m going….”

Chester never got to finish what he intended to do, Rylee swung the paddle like a bat as he splashed through the shallow water towards them and hit him in the side of the head hard enough that he fell over. She started to back up, but Jodi grabbed her and pointed at the blood spreading in the water and the bubbles coming up from under the surface. “I think you killed him!”

Jody let go of Rylee’s arm and went to Chester, still lying face down in the water. “Help me.”

The three of them pulled him up on the grassy finger of sand out of the water. He wasn’t dead, but he was out cold. “What are we going to do with him?” Amy asked the other two.

Rylee had waded the short distance to the canoe and seen all his gear in there. He had the rope tied to the brick, still holding the canoe in place and the reason why he hadn’t swept past them when he tried to get away. She pulled the rope up and untied it from the canoe. “Tie his hands with this and then we can go get help.”

Chester was moaning now and Jodi and Amy helped Rylee tie his hands in front of him with the wet rope. By the time they finished, he was looking up at them. “Get up, asshole or we will whack you again.” As Jodi spoke, Amy grabbed the paddle and held it like a bat.

Chester managed to get to his knees and then to his feet. His head hurt bad and he felt dizzy and nauseous. The three girls started moving back towards the trees, watching him close. “Come on you asshole, walk.” Amy gestured the paddle at him in a threatening manner.

Chester did start to walk, but then yanked the rope from Rylee’s hands and grabbed the brick when it fell to the soft, wet ground. The girls, afraid he was going to use it as a weapon, backed up more quickly, trying to get to the safety of the trees before he could swing the brick at them. Instead, Chester lunged back towards the canoe, tossed the brick inside and pushed it towards the open lake as he jumped over the side. It almost flipped over, but he stayed low in the rocking canoe until it stabilized, then peeked up from the side.

He was already ten feet from the sandbar and moving out in the lake pretty fast. He managed to get to his knees, then onto the seat and turn and look back to see if they were coming after him. The lake was deeper here and the girls were too late, he had gotten out too far. Amy dropped the paddle and yelled, “Come on, let’s get Tracy and Kayla and go get help. He’s stuck out there and not going anyplace for a while.”

The three hustled back to the beach clearing, had Tracy and Kayla dress quickly and headed back to town as fast as they cold to get help. Meanwhile, Chester tried to get the rope untied with his teeth, but the wet cotton rope was too tight. He tugged at it and pulled on it until his teeth hurt, but the wet knot held fast. He was out towards the middle of the lake now, but he didn’t see any other boats. Maybe if he was lucky, and he had always been lucky, he would drift across to the other side and could get to dry land. He could find a sharp rock to cut through the rope and then make his get-a-way.

Chester knew the girls would go for help. He also thought about the cops showing up at his dilapidated house and going inside and finding his photo albums and videos. They would be waiting for him; he couldn’t go home. After the ordeal with the hunters, Chester had spent a lot of time planning on something like this. He had stashed some extra cloths, some supplies, the old tent and some money at an old root cellar he had found in the woods. He could hide out until it was dark, then work his way to the gas station on the edge of town. People were always leaving their cars running while they put gas in and went inside to get a bottle of pop, snacks, and pay for the gas. Chester would wait and when someone did, he would steal their car and head down the highway out of town. He knew the backroads well and would soon turn off and head for the big swamp.

He could hide out there for a long time; time he could use to figure out what he would do next. Of course, he had seen enough cop shows to know they would search for the car, but once he was out of town, he knew of an old, deserted barn he could hide the car in. The same barn he now kept his dad’s old pickup in. He would stash the car and then drive the pickup north to the safety of the swamp.

Chester looked around and it seemed he wasn’t getting any closer to the other shore. He watched and was able to determine he was still drifting slowly, but it would take a long time to cross at this rate. He thought about trying to lean over and paddle with his tied hands, but if he tipped the canoe, he was done. He wasn’t a very good swimmer, and with his hands tied, he doubted he could swim at all. On top of that, he only used a short rope for his anchor, since he always stayed close to shore. He had ten foot of rope tied to the brick and with the rope wound around his wrists and knotted, only about five feet between him and the brick left. If he flipped the canoe, he would be pulled to the bottom by the brick. No, he would just wait.
Just a short time later, the wind picked up and he started to move faster. He was unaware that the wind had also shifted and smiled at his good luck. He watched as the canoe picked up speed and slowly turned around. He was moving backward now, but that didn’t’ matter. He had not seen anyone between him and the shore and as he looked around the lake he realized he was all alone. That was fine with him, he liked to be alone.

He tried to see how close he was getting to the shore a few times, but it was difficult to turn that far without upsetting the canoe. He probably would have been fine to turn further, but he was afraid of tipping over with the rope tied to him and the brick. Instead he continued to work at knot with his teeth. He had managed to get it to loosen up a little. He was still working at it and had just managed to get the first of the loops loose enough to start pulling the rope through when he heard a roaring sound.

He turned now and looked to see where he was at and to his horror realized he had not drifted to the other side; he had been moving towards the falls. Desperate to get loose of the rope, he worked the knot even harder with his teeth. He was picking up speed as the second loop started to pull lose. Just a little bit more now and he would be able to slip his hands through and be free.

Chester tugged at the rope and pulled against it but it wasn’t quite enough. He bit down on the loop and pulled back as the canoe turned around in the current. He dropped the rope from his teeth as he opened his mouth to scream as the canoe went out and over the edge of the falls.

The girls got back to town in fifteen minutes and went straight to Amy’s house and told her dad what had happened. He called the police and ten minutes later a police officer was talking to the three teens and writing down their statement. When he had all the information, he left and notified the sheriff’s office to assist in the search for Chester Malloy but they didn’t find him on the lake.

While they searched the shoreline looking for his red canoe, a call came in from some people fishing just below the falls who had seen a red canoe go over the side. They found the remains of the canoe but Chester’s body never did surface. The current and force of the falls prevented anyone from diving into the deep washout below the waterfall, so all anyone could do was speculate about Chester, hands tied to a brick, stuck below the pounding downpour of water, had sunk to the bottom and been trapped behind the swirling current.

The news covered the story of Chester going over the falls and how police had found seven video cassettes he had of recorded of kids skinny dipping at Buff Bay along with photographs and a detailed diary of the three missing girls, including directions to where he had hidden their bodies.