The Boy in the Red Hoodie

As she woke up at the chilling hour of 3 AM, a sheen of sweat covered her face.

It was a dark dream.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a fleeting black shadow. It moved swiftly and silently. Whispers echoed in my ears, distorted and sinister, adding to my mounting dread.

Then, I woke up.

Why today? I needed sleep more than ever tonight. It’s my first day at college, she thought.

Wide awake, she tossed and turned in her bed. “I am not going to get any sleep”, she sighed and stepped out of it towards her window.

She picked the claw clip leisurely from the side post. With a swift twist, she gathered her cascading hair. The clip found its place, securing the hair in a loose yet elegant bun.

She looked at her face in the window glass. She looks tired for the day. Her eyes are crystalline blue, like an ocean in a pool of tears. The remnants of her recent sobs have left her nose red. It’s cold. Her hair strands framed her perfect face. Still trying to figure out how to survive the day. Her nerves pulsated in her brain after aftershocks of tremors from her dream.

She started the stove and made herself a cup of black coffee. The flame flickered below the metallic kettle. The comforting sound of bubbling water & coffee soon filled the air. Grasping the warm mug between her palms, she leaned to the kitchen bar and sipped the coffee. She felt better — way better.

After taking a long shower, she stood before her wardrobe, ready to prepare for college. She scanned through her clothes, feeling the fabrics between her fingers, searching for that perfect combo of coziness and comfort.

She grabbed a loose, soft cotton t-shirt in the chill shade of pale blue. Pairing it with her trusty, worn-in jeans, she knew she had struck the perfect balance.

With a quick final look in the mirror, she gave herself a nod of approval.

As she raced towards the front door, she slipped into her sneakers, lacing them up one foot at a time. With a solid click, she double-checked the lock and strolled down the hallway.

Emma made her way to the bustling metro station. The familiar sounds of the city greeted her as she blurred into the underground, the rumble of trains and the murmur of conversations filling the air. As she stepped onto the platform, she noticed a figure in the distance standing out amongst the crowd.

His features concealed by the depths of his hood. The fabric shielded his face from prying eyes, leaving his identity shrouded, drawing curious glances from those who passed by.

But beneath the intrigue, an unsettling feeling stirred within Emma. Just observing him, she felt an uncanny familiarity, as if his presence triggered fragments of a dream she had long forgotten.

As Emma tried to avert her gaze, she couldn’t help but find herself drawn back to him. And as the metro train arrived, carrying her away from the platform, she couldn’t shake the haunting feeling.

As Emma settled into her seat, she reached for her phone, a familiar source of solace amid the bustling metro. Plugging in her earphones, she sought refuge in songs. Desperately seeking solace in music, drowning out her disquiet with the soothing melody of “Eyes Blue Like the Atlantic.”

Her head started throbbing with the intensity of a migraine. The rhythmic motion of the train only worsened her discomfort. A wave of anxiety washed over her as her eyes caught a glimpse of a red hoodie worn by a passenger a few seats away.

The sight triggered a cascade of memories. She had sworn to leave it all behind, to move forward, but the red hoodie threatened to crumble it down.

Emma turned to her bag & took a book out of it, desperately hoping its words would provide a temporary escape.

With trembling hands, she opened it to where she had left off, Page number 29, and…. 30.

Her heart skipped a beat. Page number 30, once crisp and white, was now marred by spots of crimson.

The blood tinges staining the page mirroring the day she had long tried to erase from her memory.

Emma closed her eyes, she took a deep breath, determined to gather her shattered composure.

With trembling fingers, she turned the bloodstained page, as if symbolically turning the page on her past.

She looked up to the red hoodie guy. He was nowhere in the sight.

Emma arrived at college, her mind still weighed down by the unsettling encounters with the red hoodie.

Determined to regain a sense of normalcy, she pushed through the entrance and made her way to her first class of the day.

As she entered the hallway, she couldn’t help but notice the familiar flash of crimson in the corridor. Her heart skipped a beat. Another red hoodie? What were the odds?

There was something undeniably off-putting about him. Emma’s eyes lingered on the mysterious figure, her desire to uncover his identity growing stronger with each passing moment.

She tried to catch a glimpse of his face, hoping to discern any recognizable features, but her attempts were thwarted as the loudspeakers suddenly blared to life, drowning out her thoughts.

Startled, the person in the red hoodie seized the opportunity and swiftly left the corridor, slipping away before Emma could gather her wits.

Just as Emma was trying to gather her thoughts, a voice boomed through the loudspeakers, breaking the momentary silence. It was the principal summoning her to his office.

Her heart skipped a beat once again, unsure of what awaited her there.

Panic coursed through her veins, fueled by the principal’s summons.

It was not a mere formality or a routine administrative matter. No, this was different.

She hurriedly made her way to the nearest washroom.

The pieces of the puzzle began to fit together, forming a disturbing picture she had long tried to bury. The encounters with the red hoodie, the haunting memories resurfacing, and now the unexpected call to the principal’s office — they were all intertwined.

She clutched her chest, trying to steady her breathing. The flashbacks flooded back like a tornado.

She remembered the past.

She had thought she had escaped that nightmare, but the smell of blood, so real, was pulling her back into the dark lane of her memories.

How could she forget the trek that changed her life.

Her boyfriend….Joe.

He was a walking paradox. Joe always left those who knew him puzzled.

At first glance, his appearance betrayed a sense of innocence, his face resembling that of a child, blissful and carefree. His eyes sparkled with mischief & charm that effortlessly drew people in.

At least she fell for it…

In the beginning, he was good — kind, attentive, and attentive to every need and desire. His smile could light up a room.

Yet, beneath the façade lay a darker side.

It was as if a switch flipped, and the charming persona dissolved into a monster that lived in her dreams. The once-adoring eyes transformed into a cold glare that sent shivers down her spine.

She found herself walking on eggshells, never knowing what might trigger his rage.

In those moments, he was a stranger she never knew existed.

She was consumed by the whirlwind of emotions he stirred within her.

Among all his quirks, one was visiting the frozen waterfalls. They often went to see the icicles.

This time when Emma and her boyfriend, ventured into this frozen wonderland, they didn’t know the storm brewing beneath the surface.

He was in a good mood.

She glanced at his boyish features illuminated by the fire’s glow, and decided to ask about his past.

“what was your previous relationship like? I mean, your ex-girlfriend… I’m just curious.”

The question hung in the air like an icicle.

“I told you not to ask about that,” he snapped, his tone simmering with anger.

Fear washed over Emma as she realized her mistake, but it was too late to take back her words.

“Why did you have to ask?” he seethed, his grip on the hand tightening as if to assert control over her.

He reached into his backpack and withdrew a length of sturdy rope.

Emma’s heart pounded in her chest. She tried to back away, but there was little room to escape.

“I’m sorry for asking about your past. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Ignoring her pleas, he swiftly closed the distance between them, his grip on the rope tightening as he bound her hands together.

“Everyone in my life comes in with the intention to change me or lecture me, just like my mother did when I was a kid. She hated me. She never understood me.” he seethed.

“I thought you were different,” he spat. “Why do women always think they can change men like me? Just like my mother did. Always trying to rein on me, control me!”

“I don’t want to change you,” she said softly, her hoping to diffuse the situation. “I just want to understand you.”

“Understand me? No one can understand what it’s like to be me,” he retorted, his eyes narrowing. “I’m broken, and I don’t need your pity.”

Emma took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to reach him. “We all have demons inside us, but we also have the power to choose how we respond to them,” she said. “Seeking help and talking about your past with someone who won’t judge you might be a step towards finding peace.”

A tense silence hung in the air as he finally spoke, his voice laced with a mix of bitterness and pain.

“You know, I’ve always admired Ed Kemper,” he said. “He was just like me & he was so meticulous, so precise in his methods. I’ve followed his footsteps, you see. Fifteen girls including my ex, just like him. Now, you know where is my ex.”

Her eyes widened with disbelief and terror as he mentioned Ed Kemper, a name that sent shivers down her spine.

She was trapped at this remote waterfall with a man who displayed a disturbing lack of remorse for his actions.

“I can’t believe you’ve done such terrible things,” she stammered, her voice trembling. “But… why are you telling me this?”

A cold chuckle escaped his lips. “Oh, I think it’s only fair that you know what kind of man you’re dealing with. Besides, soon you won’t be telling anyone anything,” he said.

She decided to appeal to his ego, hoping to keep him distracted and willing to let her go.

“I won’t tell anyone about this. Just give me a chance to prove my love.”

His expression softened, and Emma held her breath, hoping her words were getting through to him. She felt as though he was weighing his options.

Finally, he nodded. “Alright. But remember, if you try anything foolish, there’s no telling what I might do.”

As he untied her hands, she struggled to maintain her composure.

Once her hands were free, she took a step back, trying to hide the fear that still lingered within her. But as he turned to give her some space, Emma saw her chance.

“You won’t get away with this,” she shouted, her voice quivering but filled with strength. “I won’t be just another name on your list.”

He reacted with lightning speed, trying to grab her, but she managed to slip through his grasp.

She ran as if her life depended on it — because it did.

“Come back here!” he bellowed, the sound of his footsteps growing closer.

With desperate effort, she managed to unlock the door and slide inside, locking it behind her.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching from behind. He was catching up to her.

Her eyes darted around the car, searching for anything that could help her defend herself. And then she saw it — a long icicle hanging from a tree. Her mind raced with a desperate plan.

With a surge of determination, she reversed the car abruptly, causing him to slam into the back of her vehicle.

As he stumbled, she flung open the door & seized the icicle, and without a second thought, she confronted him.

…and as he lunged at her, she drove the icicle with all her strength towards his heart.

A guttural cry escaped his lips, and he looked at her, his eyes wide with disbelief. Emma pushed him in the shards of snow writhing in pain.

She didn’t waste a second, jumping back into the car and speeding away, leaving behind the lifeless figure in the freezing night.

As she drove towards the distant lights of city, a mix of guilt and sadness washed over her.

The next two days she had high fever & couldn’t move. She locked herself in her room & didn’t return her mother’s calls.

The third day her mother knocked her door with father. Seeing them, she broke down like a shattered glass. She confessed everything.

Her parents decided to take her back with them before the missing complaint was filed by his father.

She spent next two years at a her parents’ home taking psychological help.

One day, she received an unexpected and terrifying letter bearing a familiar name — the father of her ex-boyfriend. The letter contained threats, accusing her of destroying his son’s life and demanding retribution.

Fear gripped her heart, and she realized that her past had caught up with her.

Desperate for protection and advice, she contacted a private investigator, hoping to gain some insight into her situation. What she learned was even more alarming — the police case against her had never been fully closed.

The accusations of her involvement in her ex-boyfriend’s death still loomed, and she found herself caught in a web of corruption and deceit.

In a desperate attempt to clear her name and secure her safety, She resorted to bribing a police officer. She knew the risks of this action, but she felt there was no other way to escape the clutches of a justice system.

She decided to start once again, leaving the state with a fake passport and ID, shedding her identity as Guinevere Beck to become Emma.

As she settled in the new state, Guinevere tried to find solace. But she couldn’t escape the memories of her past, nor the feeling that someone was always watching, waiting for her to slip up.

As she wiped tears from her eyes, she reached the principal office & closed the door behind his gothic office, and shock coursed through her veins.

It was Joe Goldberg, her ex-boyfriend’s photo on the wall weaing a red hoodie.

“Well, hello there. Who are you?” a familiar voice cut through the air.

She looked at the man expecting Joe. She turned around to see a figure wearing black hoodie.

But it wasn’t a man. IT WASN’T A MAN…