Wednesday, June 15, 2011

No Help

"Hold it together.
Birds of a feather.
Nothing but lies and crooked wings.
I have the answer,
Spreading like cancer:
You are the faith inside me." 

I drove to West Virginia today.

No kidding. West-fucking-Virginia.

Just to place a call in a public pay phone.

Operator: 9-1-1, what is your emergency?
Me: (in a whispered, gravelly voice) This is anonymous tip. I have reason to believe that the people at address [REDACTED] will be targeted by a deranged serial killer.
Operator: (I hear the sound of typing in the background) Ma'am, this address is located in Canada.
Me: So?
Operator: Canada is outside of our jurisdiction. How did you obtain-
Me: (I forgot about my fake voice for a second) Then inform the Canadian police! Just do something!
Operator: (calmly) Ma'am, how did you obtain this information?
Me: I... (fake voice again) Threats have been made, and... I happen to know that the killer in question is serious. He won't just kill them, he'll torture them first. Please, you have to-
Operator: Ma'am, what is the name of the criminal in question?
Me: Luke Cifer.
Operator: And where are you located?

I hung up.

I got out of the phone booth, kept the hood of my jacket up, and hailed a taxi, which took me back to where I had parked my car. I'm on my way home now; I'm currently at a truck stop in Maryland as I write this.

Oh god, what am I supposed to do?


  1. there's always a few ideas, but none will affect Mitch directly, unless she sees them

  2. You are supposed to sit on your ass and CRY. And know that there is not a God Damn thing you can do to stop us.
    ... And don't I qualify as a Mass Murderer yet?

  3. So you're tired with waiting, hm~? I'm curious as to see what you'll do next, Sage.

    It's a race against time, and the clock is ticking...

    I wonder if you can hear it?