alizstories

[alizstories]

Chapter one: How it started

How it started:

Sir, what's your taste?

Cheap. Cheap. It's not for someone special. I'm just trying to get the pressure off of my shoulder.

What is the occasion, sir? A birthday?

No, it's more like an anniversary.

OK, I Recommend you… this one. 

How much is it?

Do you like it, sir?

It doesn't matter, I told you. I want it to be cheap.

Oh, I understand. 

So, How much?

One thousand five hundred dollars, but I can sell it as low as 1300 to you.

Impressive, but why am I getting 200 off the original price?

I want to get rid of this, you know. I paid 6000 for this 11 years ago, and no one ever liked it. Whoever saw this felt such a creepy sensation that it made them hesitant to purchase.

I can see.

Yeah, but I can sell it cheaply since you don't care about the look. Do you want it?

Oh, Yes, of course. I'm paying cash.

Great.

****

November, 1982. USA, Austin, Texas.

News reporter:

The neighbors reported a house fire at about 2:30 in the afternoon today. After that, the firefighters and the police arrived to see what happened. The house belonged to Mr and Ms. Stevenson, a hard-working salesman at Banshee Security Company.

As reported, Mr. Stevenson's wife, Jolly, and their two sons were at home during the incident. Unfortunately, all of them are reported dead. 

James showed up at his house when he heard the news, but he was silent and showed no signs of sadness. He pushed the police officers at the door away to get in, but they blocked his way.

He was down on his knees and was looking at the flames. In his mind, he saw all those memories and moments he had with his wife. The plans they had together for their children. The years of work he had done to build the house Jolly wanted. He was broken like a boy who saw his sand castle destroyed by the ocean's waves. 

His family was living in New York, and he had to stay with his wife's family: his father-in-law, Mr. Robert Brown, an old farmer who was a hero in WW2. Robert could feel the amount of pain James was in. At least he could see how depressed he was in his face. Ms. Brown ordered some food for dinner, which none of them touched. 

Robert sat next to James and told him: Son, you've done anything you could for your family; you should know it was all an accident. It would help if you didn't blame yourself.

James said: I don't know. Was it an accident?

What? What do you mean?

You wouldn't understand, Robert. I feel someone did this to us. This past few weeks, I saw a new face in our neighborhood. I never liked him. He was different. He was around our house so often that I had to tell him to fuck off once. Jolly thought I was paranoid. But it has something to do with him. I can swear he is related to this.  

The FBI agent showed up at Brown's house early in the morning.

They had a bad news, a terrible news.

The bodies that they found were indeed Ms. Stevenson and the children, But they were all killed and chopped out before the fire. Each body was cut into ten pieces before they were burned. The signs of a doll saw blade were on all the bones. They also found out that the killer didn't kill them before cutting them, based on the marks on the bones that proved struggles.

James fell to the ground and shouted: STOP, STOP, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE, I'M BEGGING YOU, STOP.

You can say that James was a big man, but when he was on the ground, he was so small suddenly to the eyes that he was as small as a boy. Jolly always called him a baby, not as an insult but as an affirmation. He was always so calm and relaxed whenever he was in her arms. She used to tell him that he looked and sounded so different when he was with her and in public. She found it funny how he acted like a serious man in front of her family while he wasn't anything but a baby in her arms.

Two weeks ago, James saw him for the first time. James has a habit of walking before getting to bed. Before, Jolly would've joined him too. Still, after she gave birth to Tom, their first son, she didn't join him anymore. Still, he wasn't complaining because it was the only time he could smoke a cigarette and think about his plans. Jolly knew he smoked, of course, but she was more amicable than this to tell him anything. 

It was 11 pm, and James was walking to the local store to buy a pack of red Malbros. He saw him in the back of the store; far in the distance, there was a being. It wasn't a man nor an animal; it was a being. Smiling so wide open that James could see the last teeth in their mouth. It was standing tall and half naked, with long, messy hair and black pants that had some stains on them. Except for its head, it had no hair on its body. Its eyes were red, but without any light, they were so dark, and only in the light of the store's windows could James see how red and bloody its eyes were. James was a bit tipsy from the beers he drank after the dinner, so James thought he was just a homeless in the street, so he just nodded at the being and went to the store. James got his cigarettes and walked back into the lane. The being was not there, but he still could hear footsteps behind him while James was walking. He didn't turn his head around, and when he arrived at his home, he finally checked behind him and didn't see anyone following him.

It was his first encounter. However, it wasn't the last one.

After that, he kept seeing a new man in their neighborhood. He was just like the being; he was tall and had long hair, so James assumed he should be the same person. 

The new neighbor was Ramsy, an alone man living in a house his long-dead Aunt had left for him. The house was so old but still was good enough to live in. Ramsy was an artist, but he had several mental ills, such as autism. Therefore, he couldn't get to know anyone in the neighborhood, but his connection with kids was much better. He even came forward and talked with Tom several times, but James didn't like that at all. James yelled at him and told him to fuck off.

The FBI agents came over with a professional detective who had worked on such cases for decades, Detective Gregory Anderson.

He came forward and helped James to stand on his feet; he shook James's hands firmly and guided him to the chair. 

I am Greg, the Detective assigned to your family's case.

Gregory, a tall, middle-aged man with black eyes and gray hair, had a soothing voice and always spoke calmly. He must have liked James, as he introduced himself as Greg, even though he usually went by Mr. Anderson to his coworkers. 

I had been working on the case for several days now, and I was determined to find the answers your family deserved. I had a reputation for being thorough and relentless in pursuing justice. I intended to live up to that reputation in this case. I hope to bring peace and closure to your family during this difficult time.

James remained silent, still in shock and unable to speak. Robert was equally stunned, and Ms. Brown nearly fainted after crying for so long. The room fell into a heavy silence as they struggled to process the news. It was as if time had stopped, and the weight of the situation hung heavily in the air. After a few moments, Ms. Brown composed herself and took a deep breath to gather her thoughts. Robert reached out to James, offering a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

The house showed no signs of forced entry; the killer was able to enter without disturbing the peace of the neighborhood. The police were baffled by the lack of evidence and witnesses. They combed through the house for clues but found nothing. The killer seemed to have vanished into thin air. Their only lead was a faint scent of fear that lingered in the air. They set up surveillance in the neighborhood and interviewed everyone who lived nearby. The killer had left no trace, and the police were left with more questions than answers.

James discussed their new neighbor with Greg.

James said everything about him gave me a bad feeling. Since he came here, everything has changed. I couldn't quite grasp it, but something was unsettling about him. His smile seemed forced, his laughter too loud. And ever since he arrived, things have been off-kilter. People who were once friendly now seemed distant, and there was a tension in the air that I couldn't shake. I tried to brush it off as paranoia, but deep down, I knew something wasn't right. I didn't know what to do about it.

He also described the night that he met him for the first time; he told him how red his eyes looked and how he was half naked at that time of the night in the streets.

Neighbors shared strange anecdotes about Ramsy. One claimed to have witnessed Ramsy chasing after feral cats. At the same time, another reported seeing Ramsy carrying a bag filled with deceased mice. Ramsy was the sole focus of everyone's attention. Ramsy's peculiar behavior continued to puzzle the neighborhood. Some said they had seen him talking to himself in the middle of the night, while others swore they had caught glimpses of him performing strange rituals in his backyard. No one could quite put their finger on what exactly was going on with Ramsy, but one thing was sure - he was the talk of the town.

Finally, the moment had come. Greg was about to interview Ramsy, asking only questions he could answer. As Greg sat across from Ramsy, he could feel the tension in the room. Greg knew he had to tread carefully with his questions. Taking a deep breath, Greg began the interview, determined to uncover the truth behind Ramsy's mysterious persona.

Hello Mr. ...

Stone

I am Detective Gregory Anderson, and I believe you are Mr. Ramsy Stone. I assume you understand the reason for our discussion.

The Boys, I knew the boys. (A teardrop appeared on Ramsy's face.)

Greg was somewhat surprised.

How well do you know the boys, Mr. Stone? I heard you moved to Austin not too long ago. It was about two weeks before the Crime occurred.

We played basketball together on the court near the park.

Mr. Stone, I understand your circumstances and acknowledge that you have multiple mental illnesses, including autism. I believe this may impact your ability to form connections with others. Can you confirm if this is accurate?

Yes

How did you manage to become friends with kids who are at least 15 years younger than you?

I, I like children, sir. I feel safe around them.

Have you ever considered hurting them?

No, sir. I like children. I won't hurt them.

In your documents, there is evidence that you previously encountered an issue during your high school years.

They attacked me; I didn't want to hurt them (again, he started crying while shaking)

Why did you go so far as to break their legs with a steel pipe if you didn't want to hurt them?

They killed Mandy

Who's Mandy

My dog.

Mr. Stevenson told me you sometimes came around his house and talked to the kids. Do you recall this?

Of course, I went to see Tom and Jim to tell them when I go to play. However, after one time when Mr. Stevenson got mad at me, I didn't do that again.

Your neighbors have reported that they witnessed you chasing stray cats at night and carrying bags containing deceased animals. Can you confirm or deny these allegations?

I use deceased animals in my art.

Art? What kind of Art?

Paintings, sculptures, taxidermies, and photography.

So You do various forms of art. Can we visit your residence?

No, I wouldn't say I like that.

Very well, we will meet again after I obtain my warrant. You may leave now, Mr. Stone.

The odor emanating from his house was so awful that officers had to wear masks to enter. The stench was overpowering, and it was clear that something was seriously wrong inside. As they cautiously made their way through the rooms, the source of the smell became apparent - piles of rotting garbage and decaying food littered the floors. It was a scene of utter neglect and squalor, and the officers could hardly believe someone could live in such conditions. They were appalled by the gruesome items they found: a chair upholstered with rat fur, a mug fashioned from a raccoon skull, various stuffed animals in grotesque poses, and he had a belt made of cat paws. Some of the items had been there for a long time. Ramsy claimed that his Aunt had taught him how to make everything. There were pictures of animals in bizarre human-like scenarios on the walls—a mouse pedaling a bike, a rabbit clutching an umbrella. He invited them to sit on the couch, covered with a patchwork quilt of different animal skins. He offered them some tea, pouring from a teapot shaped like a turtle. He smiled innocently as if he didn't notice their discomfort and curiosity. He said his Aunt was very kind and creative, leaving him all her belongings when she passed away. He said he missed her very much and wanted to share her legacy with others. He asked them if they wanted to see more of her creations, and before they could answer, he led them to a door at the end of the hall. He opened it and revealed a dark room filled with more horrifying sights. There were jars of preserved organs and skeletons of hybrid creatures. He said this was his Aunt’s studio, where she worked with different animals and plants. 

Someone asked him if he had ever sold any of his “art” works; Ramsy replied that he did it for himself but that his Aunt had bought this place with the money she earned from selling her own “art.” He said that she was a famous artist in the underground scene and that her works were sought after by collectors who appreciated her unique style and vision. He told her loyal fan base admired her courage and creativity.

His house was filled with repulsive and strange things, but there was no trace of human presence. They could not confront him directly, but his living conditions and behavior aroused their suspicion.

Another thing that struck Greg was Ramsy's odd confidence in his house and his lack of any autistic traits, which made him doubt his diagnosis. He decided to verify it; he looked over the papers again and found the doctor’s name and address, who had confirmed his condition.

Dr. Li Shufen had diagnosed him with autism when he was 11 years old. Greg was lucky that she was still working in Austin, and he could visit her the next day. He explained the situation to her and asked for her help. Like everyone else who had heard the news recently, Dr. Li was shocked and moved by the incident, and she wanted to do her best to help the detective. However, there was a big problem: She had no records from that time. She said it was long ago and that she only kept documents briefly. She said she could not remember every patient she had ever had, but Ramsy’s records said he and Dr. Li had been in contact for two years. This was unbelievable because she was sure she had never met him. She said her memory was not the best, but she would remember if she had a patient for two years.

But why would Ramsy fake his autism? This puzzled Greg. He couldn't grasp Ramsy's reason for pretending to be autistic. It was an odd and pointless choice. He wanted to uncover the truth behind Ramsy's behavior.

Additionally, Ramsy initially declined to hire a lawyer. However, he spared no expense once he realized suspicion was directed towards him. He hired Maxim Perry, one of the most experienced lawyers in Austin. Greg suspected there was more to Ramsy's story than meets the eye. He couldn't shake off the feeling that Ramsy was hiding something. Perhaps Ramsy was involved in something illegal or had some ulterior motive for faking his autism.

Despite Ramsy's attempts to clear his name, Greg remained skeptical. He knew something was still missing and was determined to find out what it was.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, but Greg refused to give up. He knew a story was here and was determined to get to the bottom. Finally, after months of investigation, Greg stumbled upon evidence that changed everything.

In the summer of 1971, Ramsy had a severe accident in the desert. His car was destroyed, and the other driver's vehicle burst into flames, causing the driver to be badly burned. Ramsy sustained only minor injuries and broke his left hand.

Greg was very interested in the accident. He had a feeling that something was not right. He decided to investigate further and started asking questions. He found out that Ramsy had been driving under the influence of alcohol and was responsible for the accident. However, Ramsy used his connections and wealth to cover up the truth and avoid any legal consequences. 

It was not right; not only did he not have any significant injuries, but he didn't face any legal problems. However, it was clear that he was drunk at the scene of the accident.

The lives of Brown's family and James were destroyed as the police and detectives worked on the case. James was no longer the man he once was, no longer lively. James became withdrawn and haunted by the unfolding events. His family struggled to understand the depth of his pain as he retreated into himself, consumed by guilt and grief. The weight of the tragedy hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over their once-happy home. He rented a small apartment and spent most of his time there. Over time, he became dependent on a medication to help him sleep, which was first given to him by his doctor.

As his dependence grew, he found it more challenging to function without the medication. It became a crutch that he relied on every night. Despite the adverse effects on his health, he couldn't bring himself to stop taking it. His small apartment felt like a prison, and the medication was his only escape. He wanted to end his life, but he couldn't do it without the peace that he needed from justice.

 He resigned from his job and was now living off his savings, so he spent the whole day at home and began drinking in the morning. As the days went by, his drinking became a daily routine. 

His savings were ending, and he knew he needed to find a new job, but the thought of facing the outside world filled him with anxiety. So he continued to drink, numbing himself to the reality of his situation.

One night, he was highly intoxicated and went to Ramsy's door, knocking and yelling, "MURDERER, YOU ARE A MURDERER!" Ramsy didn't open the door and simply called the police to come and take him.

Greg requested Ramsey's presence at the station for questioning the following week. Ramsey responded, "Sir, you are misusing valuable time that should be devoted to finding the killer instead of focusing on someone unrelated to this case."Greg frowned, his eyes narrowing as he considered Ramsey's words. "I understand your concern, but we must cover all bases in this investigation. Your cooperation is crucial in helping us solve this case," he replied firmly.

This time, Ramsey showed up with his lawyer. 

I'm Maxim Perry, Mr Stone's lawyer.

I'm Detective Anderson; I'm glad you came for integration again.

Well, I have nothing to hide.

I doubt that Mr Stone.

Ramsy became a little offensive.

What do you mean by that? Is there anything I need to know?

Mr Stone, Why did you lie to everyone about your condition?

Ramsey, a little shocked, said:

What? This is so offensive, Mr Anderson. Why would I lie about a condition that I had with me since I was a little boy? Everyone in my Family is aware of that.

By family, you mean your long-dead Aunt. Since I could not find any other relative of yours, Mr stone.

I have friends who can tell you about my condition.

Mr Stone, In your documents, I see the name of the doctor who diagnosed you, Dr Li Shufen. Do you remember her? You were her patient for two years.

Ramsey said: Of course, I remember her; I met her two months ago.

Greg smiled and said: Are you sure about that?

Of course, I'm sure. What's the meaning of all this?

Mr Stone, I was at the office of Dr Li just recently.

Ramsey was frozen; he had not expected that.

Greg continued: She did not recognize you. Also, She needed documents proving your visits to her, especially if you visited her recently, because, as she said, she may have lost the old records. Still, it is more interesting now that you say you met her recently.

Ramsey was so angry; his face was red like the flames of the fire that burnt Stevenson's house. 

His lawyer, Mr Perry, advised him to leave. Ramsey said: Can he do that? This information is private. How can he go through my info like that? Also, there must be a mistake, a colossal mistake. That stupid Japanese bitch.

Greg said: She's Chinese.

Ramsey and his lawyer left in a rage.

Still, nothing was proven so the investigation had to be continued.

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