FicWad

The woman walked into the bar and sat down at a table. She was an attractive woman, with long black hair and blue eyes that were the kind you could drown in. She didn’t order anything, she just sat there, looking around the room. Like she was looking for something, or someone.
Finally a young college guy came up to her.
“Hello,” he said and she smiled at him.
“Hi,” she said softly, then pushed the chair out with her foot so he could sit down.
He smiled and sat down at the table with her.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He asked and she shook her head.
“Lets get out of here,” she said, “I’m only in town for a few days.”
“Sure,” the guy said with a smile and they both stood up, leaving the bar together.


The maid pushed her cart down the hallway, knocking on doors and announcing maid service. Finally she came to the last door in the hall and knocked.
“Room service,” she called and then unlocked the door when no one answered. She walked into the room with a pile of towels, then looked at the bed.
For a moment, she just stared then she dropped the towels and began to scream hysterically as she backed away from the charred corpse on the bed.

“What do you have?” Young detective asked as she walked into the room.
“Not much,” the forensics guy said. “If this guy had any identification or anything it was burned up along with him.”
She nodded, “any idea what was used?” She asked and he shook his head.
“Not yet,” he said, “but we will.”
She nodded, then turned her head and looked toward the door as a man in a suit and tie came walking in.
“Sir this is a crime scene,” she said, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
He looked at her, then pulled out a badge.
“Detective Timothy Sloane,” he said, “FBI. I’m looking for a detective Rowena Clark.”
“That would be me,” she said, “how can I help you? Why is the FBI interested in this?”
“Because detective, this is the fourth killing that fits this description,” he said. “We’re concerned we have a serial killer on our hands.”
One of the officers on the scene came up to her at that point.
“Detective Clark,” he said, “we just talked to the night clerk. He said at around midnight last night, a young man came in with a woman. He was the one that signed for the room.
“What’s his name?” She asked and he pulled out a pad of paper.
“Michael Duncan,” he said, “twenty one. He was a local college student.”
She nodded, “thank you Peter,” she said and the officer walked away.
She turned to detective Sloane.
“Does that fit?” She asked and he nodded.
“All the victims were young men, around the ages of nineteen to twenty five,” he said. “The last place they were seen before being found was at a local bar.”
“Lets go see what bars are around here,” she said, “there must be one that all the college kids go to.”
He nodded and they left the room, going out into the lobby and leaving the motel.

“Michael?” The bartender asked at the third a bar they tried.
“Yeah, I know him. He was in here all the time.”
“Can you tell me if he left with anyone?” Detective Clark asked and the bartender nodded.
“A woman came in, around midnight,” he said. “Pretty young thing, had long black hair. She sat at a table and didn’t order anything. Just sat there and watched the room. It seemed to me like she was watching for someone. Pretty soon Michael went over there and struck up a conversation.”
“How long before they left?” Detective Sloane asked.
“About five minutes,” the bartender said. “She smiled at him, invited him to sit, then next thing I knew, they left together.
“Thank you,” detective Clark said.
She walked over to the table the bartender had indicated and walked around it, not sure what she was looking for.
Suddenly she knelt down, put a glove on and picked something up.
“I have something,” she said, bagging it.
She stood up and they left the bar together.

“What is it Matt?” She asked the tech a few hours later.
“I’ll have to do a few more tests,” he said, “but I’m thinking it may be brimstone.”
“Wait, what?” Detective Sloane asked, “brimstone? As in fire and brimstone.”
Matt nodded, “a small piece,” he said, “but it has the smell and look of brimstone.”
He looked at the detectives, “where did you find this?” He asked.
“At a bar,” detective Clark said, “while investigating the case of that charred body found in the motel.’
“I don’t know how,” Matt said, “but somehow the killer used brimstone.”
“Let me know if you find anything else,” she said, before leaving with detective Sloane.
They walked down to the morgue, where the autopsy was being preformed.
“What do you have Dr. Knight?” She asked and he shook his head.
“It’s the damndest thing,” he said, “the corpse is burned beyond all recognition. Its like someone threw him in an fire.”
He pointed to the head, “but look at this.”
The detectives came over and looked.
“Burn marks,” he said, “it almost looks like someone was kissing him, then breathed fire.”
“What are you saying?” Detective Sloane asked and the doctor looked at him.
“I’m saying that whoever killed this man,” he said, “didn’t use any kind of flammable products. No matches, no light fluid, nothing.”
“But that’s impossible,” detective Clark said, “how did he get burned?”
“I don’t know,” the doctor said, “and that scares me.”

“What now?” Detective Sloane asked as they left the building.
“These other murders,” detective Clark said, “how far apart where they?”
“One in each town, leading to this one,” he said. “Always at popular bar.”
Detective Clark went to her car and pulled out a map.
“The next town is Marisville.” She said, “it’s a small town, only a few bars.”
Detective Sloane nodded,
“Then we’ll have police officers at every bar,” he said. “We’re going to catch this woman, before she can hurt anyone else.”