Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Write What You Know: Eventually it Ends but now it's Part 31

Original Preamble

This is my first draft for NaNoWriMo 2016 novel Write What You Know. It's only a rough draft with very minimal editing and will, more than likely, contain, typos, grammatical errors, plot holes, or conflicting descriptions. It also includes notes to myself and excerpts from the novel the MC is writing that I try to indicate through various formatting that doesn't always translate well with my limited html skills. Furthermore, this particular novel is... there's no delicate way to put this... this novel is fucked up. So, especially in this rough draft crazed sort of NaNoWriMo way of writing, it may be difficult to read or follow.  I'm still posting it here because I want to shed more light on the process of writing to encourage and inspire other writers or readers who are interested. To learn more about this project, or my daily NaNoWriMo postings, please read Day 1-7.

Additional Preamble

NaNoWriMo 2016 ended 6 months ago and I never finished releasing my rough draft, for various reason but chiefly that I was without internet service on my computer for three of those months. I've debated a lot about re-establishing these postings mostly because I don't really think there were readers waiting with baited breath for the rest of this hunk of junk rough ass draft. But then I remembered that the point of me doing this isn't for the number of readers but to inspire and to finish things. The internet is forever right? Even if it means nothing now, some internet archaeologist could dig this up 200 years from and say . . . I don't know something. Or maybe there's that one other person out there right now and this is exactly what they need. Like Feida Kahlo said:
       --I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre...I hope that you are out there and you read this and know that yes it's true I'm here and I'm just as strange as you.-- (Wikiquote)
This is for you, other weirdos.

Write What You Know, Part 31
By Stephanie Thompson,  1, 794 words

Read: Part 1Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30

She dragged herself to out of bed. IT was late in the afternoon she had plenty of sleep. Almost twelve hours. IT wasn’t like her but she didn’t feel like her she was dragging ass. And legs and head. She was dragging every part of her self to the sink where she confirmed her suspicions. The bandage was soaked with blood though mostly dried now. It’d stained the shits and spots on the floor. The sink still had the remnants of blood smears across the  porcelain. The razor hello had used was crusted over.
“You conniving, spineless fucker.” 
She threw lotions and potions at the mirror and screamed until both the mirror and voice cracked. Then she collapsed on the floor. Helen hadn’t done his eight years at least. Everyone treated it like a suicide attempt but it wasn’t that at all. It was Helen’s pathetic  attempt to tame Cassie’s efforts. She would have ben out of that fucking prison so much sooner if it wasn’t for her. IT’s amazing how much blood you can loose with out dying and how purely flat out exhausted it would leave you too.

“All right guys, here’s some more evidence I’ve dug up in the last 24 hours, Excuse me.” His phone was vibrating in his pocket. The caller ID shed no light on the caller so he declined the call.
“This is Helen Richards. She a 34 (or so) female acquaintance of Jennifer Tansom aka Christie Fields. According to Transcom Richards has had the cell phone discovered at Bronsons murder scene for the last two (or whatever) years. Helen Richards has two charges of attempted, including one against attempt against Ms. Transcom, so there is animosity there, which is why I believe it’s Helen who is behind the Ripper murders here and in other cities. She’s previously stalked Ms. Transcom and these murders are copycats of sorts from Christie Fields novels.”
His phone vibrate in short bursts this time. A text message. HE paused to check it out and the task force took it to start asking questions.
“Are you sure they aren’t in it together?”
“Something else”
“Another question here”
It’s me. Pick up. I have an idea.
“Now, Richards has been a fugitive for three ears. We have no idea where she is staying or what her intentions are, except that maybe she is planning on hurting Ms. Transcom. I have to make a call, so you guys start brainstorming ideas about how or where we might locate Helen Richards.”
Riley ducked out of the room and right into Leut. Hutchinson. “MY office detective.”
“Yeah just a minute,” he normally wouldn’t have said that but he didn’t want to delay talking to Jennifer any more than he already had.
“No, not just a minute. Right now.”
“Shit,” he said under his breath.
“What’s this I hear about a new suspect after we’ve already arraigned Christie Fields?”
“I did some routine checking on Ms. Fields statement and was able to confirm many of the facts she said. I’m inclined to believe her story. I found the Richards woman and her profile fits the murders much better.”
“But you haven’t cleared the Fields woman? 
“No sir, I still can’t find any witnesses to alibi her for any of the murders.”
“So she’s out on bail and we have another murder and you’re still pursuing Richards who nobody can put in this city. And not Fields.”
“Actually I can alibi Fields for last night.”
“Excuse me?”
“After find out more about Ms. Richards last night I was concern for Ms. Fields as it’s clear that Richards has been stalking her for some months and there was already past violence. I knew I wouldn’t get approval for a real detail so I watched her place myself. All night.”
Hutchinson eyed him suspiciously for a while after that. “All right detective. Carry on.”
“Thank you sir.”

Back in the day they would have said she was blowing up his phone. And she always wondered exactly how many pages or phone calls it would take to actually do that. Right now she was finding it more likely that she was going smash this phone into the pavement before she blew any one elses’ up. Then finally t rang.
“I think I know how to find Helen.”
“Wait how? What happened to change your mind?”
“My lawyer left. And I had an idea. And you believed me. I’m not even convince my lawyer believes me. But I had an idea.”
“Okay, what is it?”
“Is there any way to search like flight records or credit cards or hotel records for Nikki?” (Yeah seriously, is there?)
“Nikki? Nikki Vampyro? From your books?”
“Yes. No. Nikki Vigglio. That’s Nikki’s real name.”
“Her real name?”
“It. . . Just . . Nikki Viggilo. If she’s trying to get my attention, if she’d trying to copy or destroy Nikki from the books, that’s the name she will use.”
“What made you think of that?”
“We don’t have time to explain it (also I don’t know), can you do that search?”
“Let me call you back.”

Danny opened his gift. He went slower than she did, teasing her.
“Just open it,” she said, her heart in her throat. She really didn’t know if this was the right thing at all and she couldn’t handle the suspense any more.
His case was dark velvet too, black instead of blue. His was bejeweled silver too.
“Damn, you’re good at this gift giving thing.”
“Do you like it?”
He took it out, caressed the DD engraving, then pushed the button. The gleaming blade sprang out with a pop.
“Hell, yeah. I love it, “ he said.
She ambushed him with a hug as he twirled the switch blade behind her back.

If  it hadn’t been for Nikki Vigglio, her life would have been normal a long time ago. Where did she come from? Where did she go? Where did she come from Nikki Vigglio?

Riley searched in every record databases he could search on his magic cop computer that tells cops things on TV shows. A few flights cam up, including one within hours of Jennifer’s from where ever she came from before this. But there wasn’t much else except for the proprietor of a company named (SOMETHING). That company name sounded very very familiar to him. HE searched back through the murder locations. One of the buildings were owned by that company and three of the murders had taken place there.
It wasn’t suspicious at the time because it was a dilapidated flop house like all the other murder sites which were also owned by vaguely named companies waiting for the neighborhood to turn around. Now, it was a lead. Her grabbed his coat and almost barked orders at Gimlet and them in the task force room but thought better of it. This lead had come from the current suspect, not evidence. HE couldn’t explain it. But he could stake it out and see if Helen was staying there or would come back for some reason. Maybe even catch her in the act. She skipped the team and texted Jennifer instead.

She fought her way to the kitchen and a glass of water fortified with three sugar packets. On the fridge was a note with bloody finger prints. 
The money is at the house. Fare in freezer.
It said in Helen’s barely there shaky script. She wrote like an old woman.
“Goddamn you Helen.”
She gulped the water down then made another glass of the same concoction. The freezer was the one place she hadn’t looked because there wasn’t anything in there for her to hide it in. Nothing but the ice box, which she hadn’t even considered. Helen was good at doing the thing she hadn’t even considered. Almost as good as she was at crying and being useless.
This was unexpected for sure. This shaking near fainting from blood loss state. She shouldn’t be going out at all. She should just get a meal in a hotel restaurant and go back to sleep until she got her strength back. But she went out of spite. I had been her fuel for a decade. She was going to get her money and then she would take care of Helen.

Jennifer almost talked herself out of going. Almost but not quite. She knew if she stayed she would be safe. Detective Riley would send a team to sit on the house until Cassandra showed up. That would capture her and at the first sign of disrespect She would try to kill one of them or brag during interrogation. It didn’t matter how devious or sneaky she’d been these past few years as a fugitive, she was still herself at the center of it all. Any time they got caught as kids it was because of Cassandra’s bravado. She would be the same as an adult.
Jennifer was banking on it. Banking her life on it. Because once Cassandra was captured she’d never get to see her again. She’d never get closure. She’d never find out what was so wrong and so hateful that she was doing this to her. She need to find out, no matter what stupid end it led her too. Even if this still got brought back around to her and she spent the rest of her life back in a hospital or worse in jail. She needed to know.

Okay I hate normal Jenn without Nikki. In fact, I think I hate Jenn. Why did she show up. Where’s Christie? And Also Nikki? And Figure out something better for Nikki Vigglio because I don’t like this following pieces where I try to explain. It’s dumb.

Here’s a possible truth: Nikki was never hers. Nikki Vampyro was a fiction, always had been. Nikki Vigglio was another part of Helen. That’s a lot rewrites isn’t it. Truth has a way of fucking up a perfectly good fiction.
Jennifer wasn’t blameless. She’d shared all of Helen’s secrets with the world. But she did it under layers and layers of names and fictions and made up adventures and only because she missed her. She missed Helen so desperately, she made up stories like they did back in the hospital. Little adventures. She couldn’t help that she was could at it. She couldn’t help that people loved reading about it. She couldn’t help that after working two jobs for 4 years, the prospect of writing simple stories for large sums of money was too appealing to pass up.
Besides. Helen had tried to kill her. Tried to kill her by choking and stabbing her. And broke her heart in the process. She deserved this.

Jennifer is so undesirable this way. But truth is ugly.

Thank you for reading!