Murderer On the Loose

 

By: Emily Wahner

     Caroline feels the ground shake beneath her as a flash of light wizzes by. Around her, several students shudder at the boom of thunder in her American History class. Another day in Washington, but something shifts the usual monotonous energy of the lecture. In intervals, groups of students pull out their phones and start whispering in hushed voices.

            “What is everyone looking at?” Caroline asks her peer to her left.

            He maintains eye contact with the professor, but slowly turns his phone to show her the breaking news headline: University of Washington student killed with no suspects in custody.

            The rest of the day, Caroline avoided all her assignments for class and remained transfixed on the emerging articles about the homicide. Details were coming out such as the time of crime: October 14th, 1:48 a.m.; where it took place: in the forested area, off Ravenna Creek; who was killed: Murphy Prezo; suspects in custody: none.

What do they mean they haven’t even found a suspect yet?

After a big lunch and hours of intricate math homework, Caroline was finally ready for her night class. The dark night was usually calming as she walked to her Wednesday class, but today the air exuded a foreboding quality. It was as if the wind’s silence was telling her to turn back.

I read too many of those articles. I’m sure the police are about to capture the person if they haven’t already done so. I’m nowhere close to where it even happened.

Yet, every step she took felt like walking on a tightrope. The more she walked, the farther away she was from safety.

Finally, she arrived at the science building. After the first week of classes, she realized she could not do Chemistry, so she switched to Biology. The only issue was that to save her GPA, she had to pick up the night class, as every other afternoon one was full.

Relieved she arrived at her class in one piece, she pulled the handle of the classroom door. It didn’t move. She pulled again. No movement. Nothing was posted on the door. She looked through her phone to see if the professor sent an email she didn’t see.

To her dismay, there was an email, but not from her professor.

Dear students,

            Due to unfortunate recent events, all classes will be canceled until further notice. Safety is the utmost priority for  students at University of Washington. UW is working closely with law enforcement to foster a safe environment…

Caroline couldn’t read the rest. Not with the heat building in her chest.

How did I miss this email?

She should’ve known that there was no way they would still have classes with a murder suspect on the loose. She wanted to berate herself for her stupidity, but now there was a new problem to attend to. Caroline had to get back to her apartment.

The hallways were desolate in the science building. She contemplated staying inside, but she knew she had to get back home, and the building was still not safe. The sun had fully set, darkening all her surroundings. The only illumination was from the flickering streetlamps.

It’s not even midnight yet. I should be fine. There is no way someone would attack me when most people are still awake…

A third of the walk was finished, but there was now a decision to be made. Does she take the long way or cut through the forest on the footpath? The latter would shave down her walk time by about five minutes, but it’s not well lit.

She decided to take the shortcut.

There was no actual path, just dead grass. The path only lit from the faint glare of the moon. Every sound, every movement, made Caroline freeze in fear.

This was the wrong choice.

For every step she took, she heard another one that did not match her feet. She stopped in her tracks and slowly turned her head. In front of her was a deer. She let out a sigh of relief. The more she worries about every single noise nature makes, the longer it’s going to take for her to get home. She shook her head and turned back to the path.

In front of her was a hooded figure standing menacingly.

She shrieked as she scrambled to run, but the figure stepped forward and grabbed her wrist. She looked down to see that the watch on his wrist was the same as her American History professor’s.