New York Killer.

Walking closely behind people in front of me after hearing of a serious of murders of young girls, I didn’t want to walk alone. The streets of New York were busy as usual and strutting herself in public was enough but within the dark was scary. I didn’t want to work so late at the Coffee Maxx but my boss as usual wouldn’t let my concerns of walking home alone pitched black at night, he wasn’t bothered.

As I approached a familiar area I knew I was home. All the murders in New York City made me so weary and knowing my sister too worked late, this worried me. We had made a pack to call each other one either of arrived home, we didn’t want to take any chances.

Little did I know the murder could be roaming around the streets looking none other than a friend of mine or simply a shadow within the night. I didn’t want to hit the sheets as one of the missing girls was ripped from her very own bed. Hacked up with a knife, leaving trails of blood through the house and one word left near the body, “Gotcha”. The news was flashing across it daily with all the evidence and pending realism. I didn’t want to continue to have those images in my mind, it was frustrating. Laying in bed that night and waiting my phone to ring, to know Casey was ok. I tossed and turned and by 4am I was worried.

Casey and I had grown up in Australia with our aunt and uncle, our parents sadly were killed in a car accident when we were both young, and I worried always about my little sister.

I knew Casey would never forget to call me, there had to be something wrong and I was the only one who knew it…I was shaking as I dialled her number and hoped for a pick up on the other end of the receiver. Minutes seemed like hours and my hands began to shake more and more. Letting the dial tone ring out for then her answering machine to pick it up. I mumbled my words together trying to make sense of her whereabouts,

“Cass, it’s me Gemma, if you’re there pick up”…minutes passed, the receiver hung up.

That was weird I thought and straight away dialled 911.

As the phone rang on the end of the receiver and then I heard a voice speak from the other end of the phone,

“911 Emergency, Can I help you?”

“Ummmm”, I was unsure who I was able to trust.
“May I help you?”

“Umm….Yes…Yes you can” I let my words excavate from my lips.
“What is your problem?”

“Well, I think something has happened to my sister” I didn’t muck around at this point Casey needed me.

“What do you think has happened to your sister?”

“Well, you see my sister Casey and I have a pack that when we arrive home to call each one another or to leave a message on our answering machines, but she hasn’t called me and I rang and left a message twenty minutes ago. I am not starting to worry, this isn’t like her” I was so nervous, my hands were shaking and having trouble grasping the receiver.

“What is your sister’s name again and her details?”

“My sister’s name is Casey, Casey McGills. She lives at 9 High Street New York City, she’s my baby sister can you help me?” I panicked.

“Calm down Ma’am of course I can help…that’s what I’m here for. I will send someone right around to your sisters house right away”

“Oh thankyou very much” I was screaming inside myself with such anxiety.
“Now I will take down your name and details and be in contact with you as soon as I have news”

“Okay…My name is Gemma McGills and I live at 64 Birdview Road” the words rushed to my lips and my trembling started to calm down.

I glanced at the wall clock it read ‘8 O’clock’, I hadn’t heard anything and silence filled my house. I switched on the television and propped myself on the couch. I wasn’t taking much notice of any of the news headlines until a specific one flashed onto the screen.

It read: “NYC Killer takes a new victim”, then followed a photo of my poor Casey.
One week had passed since my poor sister Casey was hunted down and murdered, the New York Killer still very much at large. This frightened me to know a monster was capable of hurting some-one, Casey was the only person I had left in my life and now I had no-one. I promised myself I wouldn’t let my sister’s name go in vain, I promised myself to hunt that killer down, if it was the last thing I was to do in life.

Casey was laid to rest, lying lifeless in a chestnut box, the colour matching her hair, her skin was colourless like porcelain fragile and cold. My found refuge in my friend Gerry, we ate an entire box of Oreos and fell asleep snuggling up to each other on my couch.
During the next few days I’m feeling emotionally and physically drained, I can’t stop feeling like it’s half my fault for not being there for her. She was my world for so long and giving all my strength over the years to being her big sister, her protector. Why couldn’t I have just raced over there, to have belted down the door, to have saved her from that demons clutched!!! Why, Why, WHY?

Waking up from what felt like a nightmare, my sister’s death seemed to haunt me even two weeks on. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Now with ten boxes of Casey’s belonging all packed up, staring at me as I came and went. Finally I got around to unpacking some of them on Wednesday afternoon after work.

Scoping out the largest one to see if there would be any clues to what fowl play might have been played in Casey’s death. Tossing out unwanted materials towels, bath soaps and nothing. Making my way through the smallest box of them all…I found it! Casey’s diary…..

I found my sister’s diary. Now what am I suppose to do from this point on? I sat at my kitchen table, looking down at her diary. I felt compelled to read it but asking myself, ‘Do I truly want to know what is in it? Was there things she never had told me or any unspoken truths or secrets?’ I sat there for over an hour, and then I just selected the novel, grasping the thick brown leather in my hands. Engrossed in the ever so rampage words that talked about her lovers, one’s I hadn’t even heard of.

The first page read:

‘Darling Hunk of a man, Kent. He was in my arms last night. We stayed awake all night falling in love. He a British man from Birmingham and I Australian living here in New York. Such a waste to our future.
He revealed after our passionate love making that that…..rotten scoundrel was MARRIED!!! My heart just sinks and tossing him out the door with nothing than his ego.
I feel stupid and no-one I can confide in. I feel alone and everything in my world feels dangerous now that Kent is on the prowl.
I his latest victim or prey, but his harsh words before he was shoved out the door, “Your next”, the glowing eyes of deep thick flowing of crimson. I don’t know what to think or feel….I have the feeling that he is in relation to the New York’s Gottcha Killer’.

I fell to my knees from the chair. She didn’t know her sister Casey was involved with anyone, especially a person who had links to the Killer. Depressed, concerned and outraged that she didn’t feel she could come to me and talk. I know where my roots lied and that was with my sister and her killer was going to be found.

My hunt for this British Kent from Birmingham was my next revengeful stop!!!
Waking from my own hell where I found myself laying in a pool of my spit. My hair mattered and the curtains drawn. I had been asleep for five hours and my mobile had several messages left from my boss at work. I hadn’t cared about returning to work, my pain was still too much alive.

No one seemed to care, they just kept passing me by each day. The neighbourhood grew deeper from within the dark and hollowing streets were filled with anonymous people.

Everything seems to be caving in on me and as I had read deeper into Casey’s Diary the more I grew to know a different side of her. She went on for pages describing her secret visions and this was feeling like she was reluctant to let anyone be that close to her.
This man she named Kent, he was mentioned several times throughout the pages, turning them over and reading them one by one, it dawned on me that anyone of my sister’s visions could have led the killer to her death.

My stomach felt ill and there was no-one that I could talk to, no one left in my life that I could trust. Overwhelming and dissatisfied by the storm brooding inside of me. A hurricane screaming to get out and explode into a volcanic eruption.

I grab my leather jacket and left, I had to get out of the place to walk n the midst of the danger filled streets. Alley ways curved and people just stared or clung to each of their own. This environment wasn’t safe but even after Casey’s death my life still remained in shambles.

This was a loss greater than my own expectations. So I dug myself from the deep dark corners and made a ways to down town’s mall.

I pushed myself to keep moving, so when it caught my attention I took advantage of the situation. Entering the Office of Business in hope of finding Kent from Birmingham. It was going to be tough but as I read on in Casey’s Diary, I had found out so much more about Kent and the other men.

The shock of my life when I found that Casey had extraordinary powers of vision an insight, but the other side of her scared me, it sent cold chills down my spine. Casey was a New York Call Girl!

Kent from Birmingham, aged 40, married to Lisa and they had three children. His life was spent jet setting around countries abroad with his business which Casey had mentioned called ‘Birmingham Funds’. He was a loan shark an undercover mobster to the New York’s biggest crime ring. As well as the one client Casey had fallen in love with.

So as I approach the desk, a small statured woman stood before me with flowing blonde hair and red brimmed glasses. I explained that I needed to track the man Kent down and gave all information that I had.

The woman then handed me a list of copies she had printed of all the contact details for a Kent from Birmingham and associated with the name of business. I had in my hands very important and vital clues to Casey’s death.

Mobster, killers or just a midnight caller of the night, I was going to get answers from him if it was the last thing I was to do to cure my pain and put Casey to rest.
As I fumbled around with the pages in my hand, I didn’t know where to begin. I felt like I was going to explode with such joy, but also was I to get the police involved with this vital information?

Heading back to my apartment I came across foots steps that lead up to my garden just metres away from my home. These were the very same footsteps found near Casey’s home too, was this the killers prints and would someone be waiting for me?

Slowly as I made my way to my front door and opened it slowly. I entered to find all of Casey’s and my own belongings all over the house. Boxes were pulled out and so were all of my own things. Someone had trashed my home, but then continuing to think, this wasn’t the case at all. Some-one had come looking for something. Was it Casey’s diary?
Deep in thought, thinking to myself that is was very lucky for me to have planted Casey’s diary in a good hiding spot, underneath my bed’s loose floor boards, it was placed under the brown carpet. I just had a feeling that this was more than just a case of Casey’s death and being killed by the Gotcha killer. There was a link somehow to these murders.

Was this related to the Mobsters lurking in our allies of New York?!
My search was going cold, I was right on the hot spot and no-one was going to scare me off from getting to the truth of the matter. I had to do this, not just for me, but for Casey!

Standing by the phone, I hesitated to picked up and dial Kent’s direct number. But I did cave after feeling Casey’s presence and her Vanilla Perfume scent filled the room. I never believed in life after death, but this made me rethink it after I felt Casey’s hand upon my shoulder. I didn’t shutter and wasn’t scared, my heart just sank.

As I waited for Kent to pick up from his end of the phone, the TV switched on. I hung up the phone and saw my world crumble. The news flashed itself on and the reporter announced the ‘Gotcha Killer’ was at it again, he was still roaming around after stabbing to death a man name Kent from Birmingham.

I knew this was a stale mate, but then I redirected myself to Casey’s diary to read onto further pages. This was again unleashing a few of the men she was involved with.
A few of the men Casey had mentioned were:

Red Barren, a middle aged man who was in the public eye. He was a high profile politician who had a broken marriage and two children. Casey had made a note that he liked it rough in the bedroom, he loved to pretend he was a killer and that poor Casey was his victim.

Then there was….

Eddie Fargo, a young guy of 20 who wanted to learn all he could in the bedroom. He had been involved with the mob too, a breaking and entering man they had working on the inside of major Banks.

As well as Peta Billings, a lady who loved to be pampered in every way.

That shocked me for a minute to think Casey was into that sort of thing. I was learning a lot about Casey and a lot that I didn’t approve of. Her secret life took on its own lifestyle and has made me really rethink why Casey was targeted. First I thought this was a random murder, but now I am more inclined to think Casey was targeted on purpose. She must have had dirt or something pretty dark to be killed for it.
Not to mention Kent, he must have had something to hide too.

So my act of pure revenge was getting harder to understand who I was aiming at. I was going to have to start acting fast. I knew how to get in contact with the three people, and I knew just what to do.

I was going to have a get together and invite my three guests. This party was going to get quite interesting. One of them had to be the ‘Gotcha Killer’!

To my own amusement I turned on the TV again and there it was splashed all over it, ‘The Gotcha Killer’, it said that they couldn’t be the one who killed Kent as they’d been dead after falling from a building. Kent ’s murder was something else, currently thinking it had to do with Mob. They had a hit out on him so the News reporter had stated.

A few days past and the Detective that was investigating Casey’s murder had phones me. He had apologised for not getting back to me sooner. He told me that Casey’s murder had been solved, it was from the hands of the ‘Gotcha Killer’, but informing me I could be put to rest after hearing of the Gotcha Killer’s own fate of death.
So I knew I could let myself rest and to try and put myself back together after such shock of Casey and her own lifestyle which came as a surprise to me.
A week had passed and I had to leave New York, it had been escaping me how long it had been since returning to Australia, my very own home and so I put everything I had on the line.

I was to return home to Australia in less than two weeks. I felt anxious but I knew this was where I belonged.

So with everything I had left, the energy that surged through my veins, it had come the time to finally return home again. I knew somehow this was different, no Casey to hold my hand on these long flights, but with everything now different, leaving New York somehow was the best feeling.

Returning home to Australia, this was my homeland and knowing that it would be my fresh start, Casey would always be with me.

The last thought I had as I boarded the plane for Australia,
‘Casey, we’re going home’, and with that last thought that crossed my mind, the plane rose from its wheels and carried me back home again.

New York Killer.


Joined May 2012

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Artist's Description

Written a few years ago, but I’ve since found it hiding somewhere in the land of my Laptop, so I thought I’d give it a bit of an update. Hoping it was worth the tweak!

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  • Steven Mace
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