Deceiving Justice
By Stephanie Mitchell
Copyright 2015 Stephanie Mitchell
I always thought I was the normal one. Just living my life day to day, year to year. I always said that would never happen to me, all those crazy things you read in newspapers and novels. All those sick twisted minds lurking near in the dark. I never saw, tasted, or experienced them. So to me they didn't exist. It was all a fairy tale, written in some book, tucked away in the smallest of corners. Nothing that crazy would interfere with my life. Now what do I believe? Well everything I just told you, scratch it out of my mind, and yours, because none of it is true. Now it’s real.
Sunday Morning 8:30am
Sitting at my desk, slipping my extra-large coffee with cream and sugar, I was startled by the shrill of the ringing phone. With a couple of drops of steaming hot coffee on my brand new white pants, I hastily picked up the phone with a stern "What?”
"Sorry about your pants. I hope your dry cleaners on 18th street can get the coffee stain out."
Ok so first off, this voice was a weird raspy squeak and I have never heard anything like it before. “Hello? Who is this?” I asked with my heart just on the peak of bursting up into my throat.
"I heard you like mail." hissed the voice, "You should love what I sent you. Look out the window, it’s coming up to your door."
With that the voice was gone, but I was still shaken up. Suddenly a knock came to the door and with that there was more coffee on me than in me. When I opened the door I was quickly handed a letter by Mr. Lens. Nothing strange about that he's always in a rush. I quickly throw out a thanks and goodbye with a response in the sound of a grunt.
With the letter in hand and my heart racing like a squirrel on coffee, I reluctantly but quickly opened the letter. Inside rested a single piece of white printer paper containing: unus moriatur. morietur. suus omnes vos . Call the police and there will be no need for translation, you'll see it on the news top story tonight.
Living in New York my entire life, I knew that the only items to ever be on the news were deaths and destruction. I stood there for what seemed like eternity, just staring at the line, Call the police and there will be no need for translation, you will see it on the news tonight.
Quickly I picked up the phone, threw down my coffee and called one of my most trusted friend Savarni Weown, also known as one of the best translators of all time. While waiting for the phone to be picked up, the computers email symbol popped up. I grabbed the mouse and clicked like crazy. In horror I read the words.
It's too late Ms.Weown has said bye-bye. Scroll down.
Terrified I hung up the phone and scrolled down. Near the bottom contained a link to a translator’s website. ‘Do it for free!’ was their slogan. Next to it contained the words: Do you think you are worth it? Keep scrolling. With my heart now in my mouth, I found a picture of Savarni cut up like a jigsaw puzzle. This freak, this monster had killed my friend and thought, ‘hey let’s throw some humor in and put her foot in her mouth. Suddenly it dawned on me, Savarni had been translating an ancient scroll. When leaving the museum the other week there had been protesters. Savarni had mentioned to me that one of them yelled ‘Your foot will be in your mouth one day.’ I couldn't believe this, just because she was doing her job, she had to die?
My mouse wandered down to the link of the translator site. I clicked on it bringing up some amateur website. I entered the freaks saying. When the answer finally appeared all I'm able to do is stare.
“One shall die. One will die. It's all on you.” Why me? All I do is manage a clothing company. Am I really that important to have a person’s life in my hands? No. It can't be right.
While in a gaze of wonder, I realize I have a new email. I clicked on the button to have another message appear in front of me. This one reads: Have you had enough fun Miss. Alexandra Reed, Yes? Well I'm sorry, the fun has just begun.
Monday Morning
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. “5:30am already? Ugg, got to get up.” I woke that morning not sure if what I experienced the day before was just a horrible dream or real life. Getting all those things felt real, I just wasn't sure if they were.
I slowly dragged my feet to the bathroom. As I looked in the mirror expecting to see a half asleep twenty eight year old, I experienced a chill run up my spine that I never had before in my life. On my mirror was a message written in blood red sharpie. A single word stayed there and it did not leave. ‘Morning’. It was from that voice. Well not the voice itself, but the person with the voice. It may have been normal to see this if I was married or living with my current boyfriend, but I wasn’t. My boyfriend Matt doesn't even have a key, so I most definitely knew it wasn't him. I started my day as usual while waiting and wondering if anything out of the ordinary would happen. By the time lunch came around nothing strange had happened.
Like everything that happens to me, I spoke way too soon.
As I sat behind my desk eating a half cold bagel and an extra-large latte, the email symbol popped up. When I went to click on the flashing icon, the phone started ringing off the hook. I picked up the phone with a hardy, “Reed speaking.” That’s when I heard the voice.
“Looks like you're having fun.”
With that a huge click was belted into my ear. I tried once more to click on the email and it finally opened. No doubt in my mind I had no control when I was allowed to open it. When it finally finished loading my eyes was being fed hundreds of pictures of feet with “NO” written on them, all except one. On the very last foot was written “Yes”.
Monday Early Evening 4:30pm
Thirty minutes before closing and I still hadn't figured out what the feet meant, until I thought of Savarni. I rushed back to my emails and quickly found the first email the guy, this thing had sent me. As I studied the picture I realized that Savarni had been missing a foot. I went back to the second email and the foot labeled “Yes” held a message in extremely small print that read, “Hey hey hey, I got a game to play, you have something, don't go looking or you'll sent straight to booking, Yours truly XXXXX. Every time I read the sentence my heart pounded faster and stronger. What could I possible have that this person wanted so badly? I don't have a lot of money, rules out that motive. I don’t lead a life full of crime. I'm just a young women trying to build my own company. Confused in my thoughts and dilemma, I called up my sister Natalie who's currently living in Vancouver BC, 3000 miles away from my home in New York. Not wanting to cause a death I went to an office phone that had a different number and provider. Just to be safe.
Explaining the situation to Natalie was supposed to bring me a little peace, far from. Instead of a pleasant sister to sister talk, I just endured a thirty minute battle with Natalie to prove that I wasn't just working too hard and having nightmares. Sisterly love, not so lovable. Being the last one to leave the office, I punched in the security code, turned off the lights, and locked all the doors.
Heading to my car, I saw a package with a bow and note taped to it. As I walked up to the package I realized there was a red and blue blinking light. I reluctantly moved towards the box until I remember he needs me to play his sick game with him. When I got beside the box I saw that he had painted a smile, a frown, and a dead face on three of the sides. On the fourth side a note, which had been stapled on, was flapping in the wet rainy wind. I grabbed the note from the box preparing for the worst. Taking a deep breath I opened my eyes only to see a poorly drawn stick figure being hung off what I assume is a tree. I grabbed the box off of the front of my car and head inside my car for cover from the rain. I place the box
on the passenger’s side while listening to the rain beat against the car, which seemed to mimic the same beat as my heart. I reached over to unwrap this sweet little present that was left for me, when I felt the presence of someone watching me. I crank my head to see someone staring at me from the corner of the street. I knew right away that this is the person who was responsible for everything that was happening. I watched as they just stood in the rain, perfectly still as if they were a statue. Even though it was just a silhouette, I knew that I was supposed to get out and follow him.
Before I could make my move, he makes a quick turn and high tails it down the street. I jump out my car and chase after him. I quickly make it to the spot where I first saw him standing. I make a quick left, making my