Chapter 451 - - SERIAL KILLER - pt. 2 Wuming Special (Can Skip)

The only reason that the killer would not touch him was because he did not appear weak. He was over six feet. Even with the layers of clothing, one would be able to determine the condition of his body just by the shape of his shoulders and face. He was fit.

That would suck.

But the killer must be desperate. He had gone over a week without a kill. His hands must be itching right now.

Wuming could only hope so.

"Ah, please," he whispered. "Let me go home."

Just show yourself, he continued in his mind, it will all be over. I promise I'll make it quick.

Just as he was saying that, his ears caught the sound of the police cars making the timely rounds in this neighborhood. Police rounds with all that stupid red and blue lights and sirens was useless in his opinion. If he was the serial killer, of course he would flee. Of course he would go to the dark. Of course he was going to go in the shadow. 

If they were planning to catch that killer, they should make rounds in a normal car without all the damn lights and sounds. 

As if they were hearing him, a police car entered the street Wuming was on. The headlights casted elongated shadows of him on the ground. There was a beep and the car slowed down beside him.

"Good evening, sir," said the policeman. Wuming quickly bent so he could look through the window. He was on the younger side. There was a slight belly and his face was covered with beard.

"Evening, officer."

"Where are you headed to?"

He did not miss a beat. "On twenty-second street."

"Getting home from work?"

"Oh, not really. I just went out for a quick trip to the pharmacy." He produced a small plastic with a logo of the store.

"You know everyone should be inside, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hop in, I'm going to drop you on your street."

Wuming could not say no. That would make him look suspicious. "Oh, thank you." He got in the car and the first thing that he noticed was the heat inside of it. It was supposed to be a little cold tonight. 

"You wouldn't mind if we're going to continue on the rounds path?" that was not exactly a question but Wuming nodded. "There's a serial killer on the loose. You shouldn't be walking around."

Wuming almost smiled. "As you shouldn't be doing rounds on your own, right?" he made the question sound innocent. "I mean, what I saw on the TV, police who go on stakes are always with their partners."

There was a sigh. "Most of the police here are old. We cannot afford having two people in the car. We have to cover as much ground as we can."

Wuming looked on the empty streets. There was something dubious here. The other night, he saw two people in a police car. This one was alone. Could it be…?

"Your check engine light is on," he commented.

"It's been blinking for a few years already."

Was that how his method started?

Wuming's blood was already swimming through his body like it was a marathon. But he could not be so sure. He kept quiet as he studied the routes that they were taking. Okay, that looked just about right.

Oh he could not wait! He wanted to be the victim for the night so much! He wanted to see the whole operation. He wanted to know how he was doing it.

Wuming hung his arm from the open window and pulled something from the sleeve of his jacket. Don't ask because he was not ready to spill his secrets. But there was a dagger there and it slipped out. He held on the handle with an iron grip. He pressed the tip against the tire. It shook when it made contact, but a second later, he had managed to pierce it and the tire lost air.

"Woah," said the policeman. "What's going on there?"

Wuming raised his hand and the dagger slipped inside his jacket again. He looked out the window. "I think your tire is busted."

"Tsk, tsk," said the policeman. "Guess we'll have to park here."

Oh, how convenient. Wuming was almost certain now. They were in front of a dead end. A dark corner. The nearest lamppost casted just enough light that they were not completely in pitch black. A camera was on that lamppost, he bet that they were out of its scope.

Hmmmmmm…

This is getting delicious, thought Wuming. How juicy. A policeman… a serial killer. That just gave him the best cover. Rounding in police cars, trying to make people ride the car, something goes wrong, they park somewhere, and he killed them.

"I'll help," he offered and jumped from the car.

"Do you know how to change tires?"

Wuming nodded. "Certainly, sir. I'll be glad to change it for you." He reached the trunk—and will you look at that? There are multiple tools; wrench, hammer, screwdrivers, a lug wrench. Wuming was looking for it and got sad that he didn't see the sledgehammer. It would have been fun.

Standing now, he saw that the police officer was just slightly shorter than him. He certainly looked like someone who had a lot of physical prowess.

Wuming pulled the spare tire, trying to appear that he was having a hard time. He had to appear weak if he was going to be a victim. He grunted and leaned his body more than necessarily. He rolled the tire on the ground and examined the busted one.

He didn't think that the tire would be that wrecked with his dagger. But he guessed that the blade was sharper than he thought. He crouched, anticipating every move. He strained his ears to hear the footsteps.

"Can I have the car jack please?" he asked.

"Here you go."

Then Wuming heard the swing.

Then black.