The Number Killer. Chapter 5. A Skaterboy

Frederick was driving aimlessly through town, his mind consumed by the insatiable hunger for power and control. As he maneuvered through the streets, his eyes happened upon a young skateboarder gliding effortlessly along the pavement.

There was something about the cocky swagger of the skateboarder that caught Frederick’s attention. The brazen confidence and carefree demeanor seemed to challenge his twisted sense of dominance, igniting a perverse fascination within him.

Dressed in a black shirt, jeans, and white trainers, the skateboarder exuded a rebellious aura. A grey baseball cap adorned his head, worn backwards, further accentuating his nonchalant demeanor. It was this perfect blend of casual style and self-assurance that drew Frederick in, his gaze fixated on the unsuspecting prey.

Frederick’s eyes then scanned the surroundings, noting that the street was empty, devoid of any potential witnesses. The absence of prying eyes thrilled him, fueling his sinister intentions.

The skateboarder, seemingly oblivious to Frederick’s perverse interest, abruptly came to a halt. With a swift movement, he stood up, grasping his skateboard in hand, and began walking down a small, secluded lane nearby. The vulnerability and isolation of this location only added to Frederick’s malevolent delight.

An evil smile slowly formed on Frederick’s face as he recognized that he had found his latest victim. The anticipation of the hunt and the ensuing excitement surged within him, driving him further into the depths of his dark desires. With malicious intent, Frederick embarked on a path that would lead to the destruction of another innocent soul, savoring every moment of power that would come from his sadistic act.

Marshall was a captivating 21-year-old who effortlessly commanded attention with his stunning appearance. With his good looks and a magnetic presence, Marshall had become a symbol of allure and charm. His sexy athletic body, sculpted through hours of dedication, was the envy of many. Short curly brown hair frames his confident face, adding to his irresistible appeal.

Marshall understood the importance of maintaining his physical fitness, and hitting the gym was an integral part of his lifestyle. With unwavering commitment, he pushed his limits and persevered to ensure that he always looked and felt his best. The gym served as his sanctuary, a place where he unleashed his energy, honed his physique, and nurtured his well-being

Beyond his dedication to fitness, Marshall found solace and joy in skateboarding. During his free time, he took to the streets with his skateboard, reveling in the thrill of navigating concrete waves. The rush of adrenaline accompanied by the feeling of freedom allowed Marshall to find moments of pure bliss, adding another layer to his vibrant persona.

While undoubtedly popular, Marshall exuded a cockiness that could border on arrogance. His confidence was magnetic, attracting the attention and admiration of peers. However, some found him slightly overbearing, perceiving his demeanor as an indication of conceit.

Unapologetically living life on his own terms, Marshall unburdened himself from the opinions of others. He thrived on the belief that his happiness was not determined by society’s expectations. Indifferent to judgment and unafraid of criticism, he followed his own path and indulged in life’s pleasures without concern for the opinions of those around him.

Marshall continued to walk down the lane with a confident stride. He took each step with purpose, his feet gracefully gliding over the pavement. The lane was dappled with sunlight, casting a warm and inviting glow. Marshall’s shoulders were relaxed, his gaze focused ahead, unaware of what was unfolding behind him.

In his hands, Marshall held the skateboard with a firm grip. His fingers curled around the sides, feeling the smooth texture of the deck beneath his touch. The skateboard served as an extension of his personality, a symbol of freedom and adventure. He cherished it, his palms connected to its pulsing energy.

Little did Marshall know, Frederick was silently tailing him, matching his steps with careful precision. Frederick’s presence was concealed, his footsteps barely audible as he shadowed Marshall. His intentions remained shrouded in secrecy, his eyes fixated on his unsuspecting target.

As Marshall continued his leisurely walk, he remained oblivious to Frederick’s presence. The sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling masked Frederick’s calculated approach. Marshall carried on, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked just a few steps behind him.

Then, as a moment of perceived safety arrived, Marshall felt a sudden force around his neck. Without warning, Frederick flung a ligature around Marshall’s neck, tightening it with a fierce determination. The link between breath and life became constricted, causing panic and disbelief to surge through Marshall’s body.

Frederick’s hands grasped the ligature with a chilling intensity, his grip unyielding. The act of strangulation began, and Marshall’s struggle to survive intensified. As the oxygen grew scarce, Marshall’s grip on the skateboard weakened, and it slipped from his fingers, crashing to the ground in a jarring clatter.

In desperate defiance, Marshall fought with every ounce of his being. His legs kicked out erratically, his arms flailed to find any leverage, and his voice pleaded for mercy. His words mingled with desperate grunts and gasps, the sound of his struggle filling the air with a haunting dissonance.

As the ligature constricted further, Marshall’s face contorted, displaying signs of both terror and defiance. His eyes widened with fear, searching for a way out of this horrifying situation. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, cascading down his face with a mix of determination and despair.

Slowly but inevitably, Marshall’s resistance began to wane. His movements became weaker, his struggles growing feeble as the life force within him dwindled. The color drained from his face, leaving behind a harrowing pallor. The stranglehold etched painful lines upon his skin, a merciless depiction of his impending fate.

With one final gasp, Marshall’s body went limp. He succumbed to the relentless grip of Frederick, collapsing into his arms. Frederick, now free to indulge in his twisted desires, dragged Marshall’s lifeless form into the nearby bushes, concealed from any prying eyes.

In the secluded darkness, Frederick began to strip Marshall down to his underwear, his cold eyes fixated on the vacant stare of his victim. Marshall’s lifeless gaze seemed to bear witness to the depths of his depravity, a chilling reminder of the darkness that resided within Frederick’s soul.

An eerie silence fell upon the area, casting an unsettling stillness in the air. The absence of sound intensified the feeling of unease, as if nature itself held its breath in anticipation of something sinister.

With measured steps, Frederick walked back to his car. His movements were calculated, matching the rhythm of his racing heart. His eyes darted around, making sure no one was watching as he continued his grim mission.

Frederick started the engine and drove the car slowly towards the location where Marshall’s lifeless body lay. The tires crunched over gravel and fallen leaves, disturbing the stillness that gripped the surroundings. The car’s headlights pierced through the darkness, illuminating the chilling scene ahead.

Bracing himself, Frederick parked the car as close as possible to Marshall’s body. He took a deep breath, steadying his trembling hands as he opened the trunk with a creak. Inside, a menacing collection of tools awaited his twisted desires.

Among the assortment of instruments, Frederick reached for a sharp knife. Its glint in the dim light sent shivers down his spine, fueling his disturbing urges. Gripping the handle tightly, he closed the trunk, leaving behind a hint of malice lingering in the air.

Returning to Marshall’s lifeless form, Frederick knelt down with a disturbing calmness. With deliberate strokes, he carved a deep number 5 into the middle of Marshall’s torso. The blade mercilessly etched through the skin, leaving behind an indelible mark of torment and cruelty.

The carving covered Marshall’s abs, obscuring the once-toned muscles with a grotesque display of Frederick’s sadistic artistry. Each stroke of the knife left behind a macabre signature, forever changing the canvas of Marshall’s body.

With a chilling determination, Frederick dragged Marshall’s now desecrated body towards his car. He heaved the lifeless form into the trunk, the cold metal closing in on a life that was cruelly snuffed out. The weight of his sinister deed settled upon his conscience, but Frederick felt no remorse.

Driving for what seemed like an endless hour, Frederick finally arrived at a bridge overlooking the vast expanse of the sea. The sound of crashing waves echoed beneath the bridge, drowning out any distant cries for help. He parked the car, his actions now entwined with the darkness that consumed him.

Taking Marshall’s body from the trunk, Frederick stood at the edge of the bridge, peering into the depths below.

With a detached gaze, he released his grip, letting gravity claim Marshall’s lifeless form. The piercing sound of the body hitting the water resonated through Frederick’s twisted mind.

A chilling smile crept across Frederick’s face as he drove off into the night, leaving behind the crime he had committed. In that fleeting moment of triumph, he relished in the twisted satisfaction of his dark desires, fully embracing the monster that lurked within.

A few days after Marshall’s disappearance, Frederick found himself seated at a fine establishment, idly flipping through the pages of a newspaper. His eyes scanned the text until they stumbled upon an article that grabbed his attention. The words told the story of Marshall’s sudden vanishing, and the police’s desperate plea for any information that could help locate the missing young man.

Accompanying the article was a picture of Marshall, his arrogant demeanor evident as he confidently showcased his well-defined physique. The image portrayed a cocky individual, unaware of the grim fate that awaited him. Frederick’s lips curved into a chilling smile as he contemplated where the unforgiving sea might have carried Marshall’s lifeless body. Deep down, he knew that this secret may forever remain hidden, lost in the expansive depths of the ocean.

Yet, fate had a way of shattering Frederick’s confidence. Nineteen tumultuous days passed, and news broke that Marshall’s body had resurfaced. It was a fisherman who unwittingly disturbed the eternal sleep of the once vibrant young man. With trembling hands, the fisherman fought against the weight of guilt and horror, as he pulled Marshall’s decaying remains from the unforgiving waters, entangled within his nets.

Marshall’s body, after nineteen days of relentless exposure to the elements, had undergone a profound transformation. The sea had taken its toll, distorting his once recognizable features. His skin, pallid and bloated, bore the telltale signs of decomposition. The effects of marine life’s relentless feeding had left haunting impressions, as chunks of flesh were torn away, revealing the gruesome reality of the passage of time and the merciless nature of the deep.

A few days later, Frederick found himself glued to the television, watching a news conference where state police confirmed the grim truth. The body pulled from the treacherous ocean had been identified through DNA and dental records as that of the missing skateboarder, Marshall Crews. A picture of Marshall flashed on the screen, a grim reminder of the tragic fate that had befallen him.

As the police concluded their statement, Frederick felt a surge of unease, knowing that investigations into Marshall’s death were far from over but knowing there was nothing to trace him back to the murder.

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