It’s the slight movement that catches my attention in my peripheral that alerts me to the fact we aren’t alone. A cloaked man sits with his back facing us, remaining silent in the shadows. The rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes evenly the only movement to note.
“What is it you want?” I snap, frustration tickling the edges of each word.
The creak of the stool as he swivels to face us is ominous as he lowers his hood. Of all the people I had thought would be sitting there, I would never have guessed it would behim.
“Mr Crane.” The surprise in Megan’s voice is echoed with the gasp that leaves my parted lips.
“Hello, ladies. Welcome,” he titters excitedly, that manic glint flashing in his cold gaze.
I’m dumfounded. Lost for words. And instead of giving us a suitable response to explain why he has us drugged and trussed up like cattle, this fucker grins wide and says, “Nice of you to visit.”
“You’re the Horseman?” My voice is small. Small enough I don’t know whether he’s heard me, until hestands to his full height and opens his arms wide. A magician presenting himself after the big reveal.
“In the flesh, my dear. I see my name precedes me.”
“You’re an evil twisted psychopath with a god complex. I know the pay ain’t great, but personally, I would have stuck with the day job.” I can’t help the words that fall from my lips, the shocking realisation that our teacher is a cold-blooded murderer completely severing the connection between my mouth and my brain.
“The years I spent looking for you… You were very hard to track down, Ebony. I realised I had to get you to come to me. It’s the reason why I started the scholarship.” He puffs out his chest, proudly holding his palm across his heart as he declares, “To help students who have had traumatic beginnings find a new path with learning.”
“You should get that on a bumper sticker; it has a nice ring to it.”
“Sass me all you want, but my plan worked beautifully.”
“So you got me in, how?” I plan to keep this fucker talking until I can find a way out of these bindings. It’s that age-old ‘lull them into a false sense of security.’ How smart can one man be?
“Dean Rollins has been hitting it with rent boys in local motels since he was twenty-four; blackmail is often the simplest solution in a situation like this. I hadn’t expected him to research you. I was kind of hoping he would just let you fly under the radar. I had already murdered pretty Elisa Wren, so he was so scared of me outing him to his wife and the local congregation, he didn’t put the murders and me popping up together. It’s amazing what I could get away with when I committed to the role.”
“And Esther Worrel-Sayer, what did she do to get on your shit list?” I hadn’t realised until now, faced with their killer, that I had memorised the names of every one of his victims. Their last moments playing out in my head as I tossed and turned at night.
“She was meant to be my roommate,” Megan answers for him meekly, the deathlike pallor washing away the rosiness in her cheeks.
“That first day, you thought I was her,” I state rather than ask, remembering Megan’s confusion when I stumbled into her apartment at orientation.
“You had the same initials. Esther W. It was written on the roommate allocation sheet.”
“So why them? Why the others?”
“I was looking for the new you. You weren’t ready to be mine just yet. You had grown out of the skin of Ebony Vanvello. This was my way of honouring the new you. Ebony Winters in all her glory.”
I almost choke on air as I hear my father’s name said aloud after all these years.
“Dark hair, light eyes, curves, passion, dedication. Each of the girls had your essence, but none of them were you. Right down to their initials.”
EMMA WALKER
STELLA ‘ESTELLE’ FAYE WATERS
ERIN WRIGHT
ENID WROW-PETERS
MIMI WINTHORP
How had I missed that?
“Wait. Mimi Winthorp didn’t fit your little name game.”
“Esme Cordelia Winthorp. She was in my Intro to English Lit class last year.” Megan finds her voice, and I sort of wish she hadn’t. Every time she shares, it feels like I’ve been wallowing in the dark alone since the moment I turned up to this damn university. Glancing between me and our teacher, I watch as she toys with the idea to elaborate.
