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Writer's picturetherealnaavadae

Chapter 3

Updated: Feb 29, 2020

This is the short story, The Purple Bike Man. This story will be distributed in parts and was written by Naava Dae. This document is the property of Naava Dae and upon illegal distribution, reproduction, editing, altering, or use, will be punishable by law. This is all the figment of Naava Dae's imagination. All of the characters, places, and events that take place in this story are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or events is purely coincidental. © 2019 by Naava Dae


I arrived home to Lila hysterically crying on the couch with a police officer’s hand over her shoulder. Another cop was sitting in the rocking chair next to them, chin tucked to his chest. He had a note pad and pen in his hand and was speaking to someone in the walkie he had on his belt.


“Yes, Ms. Archer is okay. We’re here with her now.” He says before putting the device back in place. He stretches in the chair before finally acknowledging me.


“Good- “he pauses to look at the time. The clock read 5:36pm. “-evening, good evening ma’am. I’m officer Cameron. I’m the city’s Deputy Chief of Police. Are you Danella Marares?”


I was still standing in the same place in the doorway, keys in hand, just taking everything in with obvious confusion. I wanted to run to Lila, ask her what was wrong. I wanted to question the officers and ask them what they were doing here. And how they knew me and if everything was alright. But I knew that something was off. I knew Lila most likely told them who I was. I knew that she called them here and I knew she was not alright. I didn’t know what to do.


“Yes, I am Danella Marares.” I say, finally breaking my silence.


“Do you mind if we ask you a few questions Ms. Marares?” The officer had his pad and pen ready. He looked at me for confirmation to continue. I ignored his look. Instead, I walked to the couch and sat on the other side of Lila. The officer with her, a woman with the name ‘Bridge’ on her chest, gave me a sheepish smile. She must have read the overwhelming look on my face.


“Don’t worry sweetie, your friend is ok. We just need to ask you a few questions for the case.”


Case? What case?


Lila finally looked up from her crying. She tried to smile and nodded her head.


“They’re here to help Danella. Let them… help them. I’ll explain everything later.”

~

We sat for hours in silence. Lila on the couch in the same place she was while the cops were here; I was now sitting in the rocking chair where Deputy Cameron was. The evening proved to be very eventful: I answered various questions from Officer Cameron. Did I notice any weird behaviors from any of the neighbors? Did I receive any random threats from others? Did I ever feel uncomfortable where I was living? Etcetera…etcetera. I had no idea why I was answering these questions. However, I complied and answered ‘no’ to everything. I truly never noticed these things before. Then we talked about the apparent ‘case’ that no one seemed to want to speak about. Apparently, The Purple Bike Man, the crazy cutthroat killer that murdered five girls within the past ten weeks, the same one I heard on the news, was now after my best friend. My best friend. I couldn’t believe it when the officers told me, I tried not to at least. But when Lila told me everything that happened to her today, I couldn’t not. The weird text message…the roses…the note. None of that was coincidence. Someone is after her.


Why aren’t we talking about this? I looked back at her, trying to word what I was saying as cautiously as possible.


“Lila…” I started.


“I can’t Danella, I can’t talk about this.”


“Lila it’s been two hours and you didn’t say anything. We need to figure out something, we need-“


“-WE need to just wait for the police to do what they do. They have evidence, they are going to look over the message sender and analyze the note for skin cells. They said they will make sure I’m okay that’s what they said and-“


“And you’re gonna trust what they say right? Just like the families of the five other girls who got killed Lila. They trusted what the police were saying and look at them now. They’re DEAD Lila. GONE!”


Lila looked back at me, her face puffy from crying, her eyes filled with fear. But she didn’t cry, her tone went from frantic to serious.


“Danella what am I supposed to do? Nothing like this has ever happened to me before…” she stared at the black rug that we had placed in the living room, her toes digging into the memory foam material.


“Did you tell your parents?” I looked already knowing her answer.


“God no! My parents are already worried sick about us moving off campus. This would push them over the edge bro, like I’d have to go back home.”


“Lila, maybe that’s best…” I tried to reason with her. But Lila is headstrong, independent, and overprotective of her family; she wasn’t going to put them in a position to worry or be in danger.


“It won’t be. Whoever is after me knows where I am. They know too much. We have history, this person and me. I would hate for something to happen to my family because of it.” She let her head fall into her hands now, sitting legs crossed on the blue couch.


“If something weird happens,” I begin “promise me you’ll tell them.”


“OK, I will. Only if something else happens. For now, I just want to forget about it.” She grabbed the television remote.


“Didn’t you research about this guy’s killings? Maybe you can get the lead of who it could be.” I say watching her aimlessly switch through channels.


“I did. But this guy is private. Nothing of him has been released; no name, no possible suspects, no locations, no nothing, the only new thing about him I know is his new name.” She stopped the television. The news was now occupying both of our attention. Immediately footage that they have been playing from this morning appeared on the screen: a man riding down the road near the area of Eastcon traveling on a purple bike. The man was covered from head to toe in black, his face not visible; he was captured riding in the middle of the street by the traffic light camera.


The next image we saw was a side-by-side picture of all the girls he has killed. The girls were all young looking, the oldest couldn’t be older than 18. The news says the youngest was 15. I looked at them all and felt sad. Sad for them for being involved in this man’s crazy behavior, sad for the families and friends who would no longer have their daughters, their sisters, their friends again. But I was also sad at Lila because she had to go through this sadistic and worrisome situation. I looked at her and only saw my best friend, someone who would never hurt anyone, someone sweeter than church juice, someone so prepared and ready to succeed in everything she does. But someone else out there, someone else sees her as a target in their demonic game.


I looked back at the television at the girls.


“Lila, pause the T.V. real quick… quick before the screen changes.”


She looked puzzled but did it anyway. She sat while I analyzed each girl on the screen. Each girl having curly hair, chocolate skin, and other features that mimicked Lila’s. I look up at Lila again to confirm what I was believing.


“Lila, all those girls look like you.”


She looked in disbelief at the screen. “I didn’t even notice that…” her voice trails off as she analyzed each of her doppelgangers on the screen.


“Who is this guy…” she whispers before we hear a knock on the door.


Did you enjoy that so far? Come back Thursday night, April 25, 2019 at 8:15pm(ET) for Chapter 4!


Copyright©Naava Dae 2019

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