“Hey honey you looking for a good time?”

He pulled over and looked at the blonde woman who had a thick Southern accent and must’ve been in her late thirties. She had bleach blonde hair with bright pink tips at the end. She wore a black mini-skirt and a leopard print top. She was smacking her gum like a cow chewed grass. She smelled of cheap perfume, cigarettes, and if he wasn’t mistaken…Bourbon. He smiled, “Well how did you know?”

She flashed him a fake smile that showed off her lipstick stained teeth. “You just look bored honey. Them glasses you wear make you look like a professor or somethin’.”

He laughed. “You’re close. I’m a doctor,” he answered.

“A doctor!” the woman exclaimed thinking he must be rich, “Well what kind of doctor are you?”

“A love doctor,” the man joked. She didn’t think it was very clever but laughed anyway. She hoped he wasn’t lying about being a doctor. She encountered a lot of men that lied about their profession.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Well honey, my name is Trina but you can call me anything,” she was leaning into his driver’s side window.

“Trina. I like that. How about you get inside this car with me, Trina?”

She looked around and smiled. A doctor meant money so she would be sure to charge double. “Okay baby. Anything you want.” She walked around the car, opened the passenger door, and slid in. As soon as she was in, he pressed the automatic lock button and drove off.

“Where are we going?” Trina asked.

When he didn’t respond, she began to get antsy. She hated Johns that acted like they were better than her. “Are we going to the Motel 6 nearby? Where are we going honey?”

He looked over to her and his smile gave her the creeps. The hair on her neck stood up when he answered.

“To Hell.”

Across Town

It was dark. She could feel the blood on his chest. Her body tensed in fear. She knew she had to get up. She stumbled in the darkness as her eyes began to adjust to her dark surroundings. Suddenly she felt a searing pain in her back. She tried to breathe but couldn’t suck in any air. 

Drenched in her own sweat and gasping for air: that’s how Sally Roux woke up.  She looked at the alarm clock that sat on her nightstand.

3:30 AM

Sally sighed and removed the damp cover from her body. She walked over to her bathroom and turned on the shower. When she looked in the mirror, she hated to recognize the dark circles under her eyes, mousy hair, and general look of tiredness that had overtaken her for the past three months.

She quickly stepped out of her damp clothing and took a quick shower. After she was done, she wrapped herself up in a bathrobe and padded to her living room. On her coffee table sat an old newspaper written two weeks ago. She looked at the headline again.

Demon King Spawns Copycat Killer

Sally knew the article had been written by Eva Lewis. “I wish I could bounce back as easily,” Sally muttered to herself. Three months ago, both she and Eva, the newspaper journalist, had been attacked by the Demon King, a psychotic serial killer.

After Sally had killed him, she had been rushed to the hospital to deal with her stab wound. She had lost a lot of blood and was placed on medical leave. Sally knew she had no choice but to kill the Demon King, but the guilt of killing another human being still weighed on her.  She was also forced to attend therapy sessions with the FBI’s shrink, Dr. Colin Spencer. He was a young guy but pretty anal about her attending her sessions. He still hadn’t approved of her getting her gun back. So here she was, still on leave, waking up in the middle of the night because of her nightmares.

Sally continued to read the article again, “Forums of fans calling themselves the Disciples of the Demon King have been increasing daily in part to the bestselling book Raising the Demon King by Vincent McDaniels.”

Sally scowled. She didn’t like Vincent McDaniels. There was something about him and the fact that he was profiting off his son being a murderer that she just didn’t trust or like. In addition to that, a movie was supposedly in the works based on his books. This had caused tons of psychos to come out of the woodwork and claim to be fans or disciples of the Demon King. She didn’t understand how a serial killer with a catchy name could cause such an uproar. Sally let the paper fall back onto the coffee table. Clearly Eva Lewis hadn’t been affected by that night’s ordeal as much as she had. Sally walked back to her bedroom and popped two Tylenol PM pills. She quickly changed her sheets and climbed back into bed. Sally closed her eyes and pretended to sleep in hopes that her mind would take the hint and finally let her rest.

At his Home

Jacob was inebriated. He didn’t want to wake his mother, so he snuck into his own home. He took his shoes off and was about to tiptoe to his bedroom when he heard his mother whispering in the dark. His mother, Lupita Torres, was in the kitchen. She was whispering desperately into the phone, “Why are you calling me? I want nothing to do you.”

There was a pause.

“That was a lifetime ago. Usted es el diablo. Don’t call me anymore!” She hung up the phone and put her hand up to her chest. Jacob had never seen his mother so frantic before.

“Mamá? Are you okay?” he asked.

She slightly jumped at the sound of his voice. “Jacob…when did you get here?”

Jacob had lost his liquid buzz after hearing his mother on the phone, “Who were you talking to?”

Mrs. Torres looked flustered, “Oh nobody. Just bill collectors.”

Jacob looked at her dubiously, “This late at night?”

“Yes, they really want their money.” Mrs. Torres didn’t give Jacob a chance to ask any more questions. She quickly walked past him and to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Jacob was left dumbfounded in the kitchen. His mother didn’t get after him for coming home late and smelling like liquor, she was scared of whoever she was talking to on the phone, and Jacob knew for a fact that a bill collector wouldn’t call this late so his mother had lied to him.

Jacob walked over to the phone and picked it up. He held the receiver in his hand and began to dial *69.

He put the phone up to his ear and listened.

“Dulce is that you?” a deep voice on the other end asked.

Jacob was taken aback, “Dulce? Who’s Dulce?”

The other voice became quiet but didn’t hang up. Jacob could hear him breathing steadily on the other line.

“Who is this?” Jacob demanded to know. He used his tough guy voice to ask. He didn’t know who this caller was but he was scaring his mother and if he was some pervert calling random numbers for kicks, he was going to verbally kick some ass.

“Who am I?” the voice asked in an almost playful manner.

“Yeah. Who are you? I don’t want some pervert calling my mother in the middle of the night,” Jacob was about to threaten him when the man asked, “Jacob? Is that you?”

Once again, Jacob was shocked, “How did you know my name? Who is this?”

The voice on the other end laughed. “Of course I know who you are. The question is…do you know who I am?”

Jacob didn’t want to play phone games and said as much, “I don’t have time for this. Either tell me who you are or I’m hanging up.”

The voice sighed and said, “You’re no fun. Very well...if you must know. My name is Vincent. Vincent McDaniels.”

Later that Night

“Eva…Eva baby, wake up. I need your help. Eva.” The whispering voice was tickling her ear. Eva slowly opened her eyes and tried getting up from the floor. She couldn’t. It was as if she kept forgetting that the monster who held her captive, had shackled her to the wall. Her legs were attached to the wall by a short chain and her hands were tied together.

“I see you finally decided to join us,” the male voice that had been whispering to her started to chuckle.

Us?

Eva looked up to see a woman tied to a chair. Unlike her, she was gagged and blindfolded. She had blonde hair with pink tips and was wearing a trashy outfit that screamed hooker. The woman’s muffled cries were similar to the ones Eva had been making not too long ago.

“What are you doing?” Eva whispered. Her throat was parched. He had only given her scraps of food and small sips of water every few hours.

“What am I doing? I’m giving you a get out of jail free card, Eva.”

Eva looked up surprised. She didn’t say a word as she had learned that his temper was volatile.

“I’ll let you go Eva. All you have to do is one little thing for me.”

Eva didn’t trust him. He was lying.

“You don’t have to do it, but if you don’t,” his voice became hard, “I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

Eva shuddered. For the past few days he had stopped physically attacking her. She didn’t know if she could survive another one of his beatings.

Eva coughed and in almost a whisper asked, “What do you want me to do?”

He smiled, “Something simple. Well for me. I don’t know about you.”

She repeated herself, “What do you want me to do?”

He walked over to a small table in the middle of the room and picked up a large knife. He held it in his right hand and stood next to the prostitute. He let the knife poke her in the neck. Her cries became more frantic. He laughed, “Eva, all you have to do…is kill her.”