The Missing

Elizabeth Warren wasn't a typical eighteen year old girl. Mostly because she was always at home and always studying for the SAT's for two years straight. She doesn't hang around many people, only having two true friends, because of a nasty rumor. She's dead set on leaving the small town of Lake Claire, Nebraska. Even if it is because her father wants her to fulfill the wish and life he couldn't, that is until she meets Zak Pierce, the dreamy new addition to the 700+ population.

Zak Pierce has a history of leaving girl's in the dust... Literally. There's a dirty past that Zak is covering up. A string of disappearances that he was the key suspect in. Who is Zak Pierce, and will Elizabeth join what the police and the FBI have called The Missing?

*Warning, all places, people, or happenings are strictly of the author's imaginations. This novel is purely for entertainment and not meant to be used as a guide for actual kidnappings. *


7. Ray of Hope

Zak's POV


Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I thought to myself, as I read the newspaper. It said that the Lizzy Warren case was now being re-opened to investigate the possibility that Ray Warren kidnapped and brutally killed her. Now all I have to do is make a new identity as soon as I cross the Canadian border. I thought. Hmm. It will have to be something unrecognizable. Something totally different to Zak Pierce or Nathan Cross. Maybe something foreign? Hmm. I lived in Russia once when I was much younger. I had an uncle called Cezar. Cezar what, though? What was Cezar's last name? He was on my mother's side so it wouldn't be Cross. Every time I change identity I destroy my old phone and get a new one. I hadn't destroyed this one yet. I checked out a couple of character name generators while I was at the airport waiting to board the plane for Canada and had WiFi. Some of the options were Holt, Koslov, Sokoloff, Pasternak. Then I found the perfect one. Markovic. I repeated in my head. Cezar Markovic.

 I boarded the plane under the alias Cezar Markovic, if I wanted to I could be anyone in the world but I wouldn't enjoy just stealing an identity. I wanted to be the character, I wanted to be in control. Just like when I kill, control is my high. The plane was full of tourists who couldn't wait to Mounts. I groaned and sat back in my seat, and put in my ear plugs. Sleep was an escape from the normal people. I was higher up on the food chain they were, I was stronger, more evolutionized, I didn't need to follow their pathetic laws. I watched the clouds, they weren't white as they were on the ground, they were gray and yellow and orange, a reflection of the sun.


"Sir, would you like anything?" I looked up at the stewardess and smiled,


"No, thank you though for your inquiry. Although I would like a pillow, is that possible?"


"Yes. I will be right back."


"Oh, and call me Cezar."


"I will." she said blushing. I leaned back with my hands behind my head. Life was good.



Agent Tindall's POV:]


What did this monster do to you? I thought as I looked at the body of Elizabeth Warren. She had been stabbed countless times, so many that one would lose count if they weren't trained to pick those kind of things out.  I stood back as to not contaminate any evidence. He was careless this time. I was hoping by telling the media that we suspected the uncle, that he would become even more careless wherever he was and slip up again. Not that I wanted anymore dead girls. 


"Excuse me doctor." I went out the double doors and vomited my lunch into the nearby bodily fluid dumpster. I came back in, putting on fresh gloves. "Sorry about that. I hate when their this young."


"Believe so do I. This monster went all out on her. I found odd looking punctures on her upper inner thighs, her waist, hips and under arms. She was stabbed through the heart with what looks like a curved blade-maybe a hunting knife with a curved tip. She was then stabbed in the stomach, the lower abdomen, and her throat was slit. To add to the disturbing way she was killed, she was also mutilated with the blade, down there."


"She was raped with the knife? Who is this guy?"


"Whoever kidnapped the other girls on that list of yours I suspect. Same MO."


"Can you tell me where she was when she was killed?"


"Not here in Lake Claire, maybe a few downs over by the looks of her. I sent fibers I found under nails to forensics for clues as to where she was. But the dirt I found on her legs is from the killer. She had no shoes, and the dirt is red, like dyed dirt from that cheap prostitute motel on the route out of town. Motel Styx I think its called. My wife is always complaining about it."


"I'll get a few guys to go check it out.





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