Tuesday, February 28, 2017

"Randy" the serial killer -- Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Sorry for the delay, I hope not too many people worried after so long without updating. Or maybe you, like me, were hoping that these coincidences that I had manifested had become just imagined. Unfortunately that's not what happened. I'd love to get anecdotal, but I'm currently down one laptop, and typing this on a work computer; I don't have much time before I go home and just have a phone with a shattered screen.


After speaking with my mother, I decided that I didn't want any part of what Randy was cooking with. The few of those who responded to my posts suggested I call the police, but I didn't want to do that; but I also didn't want to go investigate. Hoping it would end, right?

I have the next few days from work off, and I decide I want to go out and get some food. I double check three or four times to make sure I have my keys, walk out the door, lock it behind me, immediately realize my keys are in my apartment. I call my friend D to see if he can help me out. He's a normal degenerate, and has a lock picking set, (and not for the, ya know, help a brother out kinda thing, more like the, break into your house later thing,) but I was desperate, so he came over. As we finally got the lock open, D burst into my house, and I turn and look down the stairs, who the fuck do I see?

Randy

He's staring at me, not saying a word, just like before.

"Look bro, what do you want?" I say, sounding a little more confident with D in my living room. I mean, the man may be a thief but I don't think he'd let me get abducted. Randy keeps his mouth shut, but places his hand on the railing leading up the stairs. He puts his left foot on the first stair. Then climbs a first. Then a second.

"Yo D," I say, voice trembling, peering into my kitchen, frozen now.

He trudges out, army boots clumping.

"What?" Half annoyed, half concerned. I envied how he could convey so much with one word.

Randy froze as he saw D, and vice versa. Randy slowly went back downstairs, and back into his apartment.


D and I smoke off the whole event, play a little COD, lock the doors tight. We order a pizza and watch Sausage Party. But D has to leave halfway through.

I'll be honest, I've been terrified to go downstairs to wash my clothes because I'll have to walk by Randy's room, so I decide it's finally time to do wash. I load everything in and return upstairs.

All the fire alarms outside my apartment start going off at once. I realize, suddenly, the whole inner building is filling with smoke.

I run down the first flight of stairs to Shirley, whom I first thought to be Randy's wife(not true), the lady who cleans the apartments.

"What's happening?" she cried, her dog barking in the background, "What's all this smoke? Are you oka- RUSTY! RUSTY!"

I had to break from Shirley and follow the flooding smoke to the downstairs common washers; to the washer smoking. I ran up, no one was there yet, and heard the door bang.

As I looked out the door, I could clearly see Randy, driving off in his old, beat up, piece of shit van, and I know it was him, because we made eye contact as he drove by in the other direction. Why's that important? I'll tell you.

T-W-O big ass, mother fucking fire trucks came to my apartment building! Everyone in the apartment complex was on my shit. One lady, who told me it was fine after I apologized a million times, almost took her kid with autism who needs to be hospitalized out because of me; well because of Randy.

When the fire department came and disabled the alarm, the also found that the wires in the back had been tampered with, and that they were also connected to the water heater, and other electrical equipment. No we won't have hot water until next weekend. In addition, we also might not have lights at certain times, but luckily no problems there yet. The police were questioning me about my involvement with it, but it was clear I had only overloaded the washer, creating the smoke, not tampering with the back wires, or lights. I had a friend in Shirley, who convinced the police to let me loose.

My question is, why was Randy leaving just before this all happened? Why'd he death stare me? I know why. He's framing me.


As I'm loading my soaking laundry into a basket, Shirley is standing there, and I realize she's not scary she's just a drunk. She's asking me all sorts of stupid questions and eventually mentions she's about to take a bong rip. So I head upstairs, spill my own weed and think, hey, lets buy from Shirley. I head downstairs, meet the pooch, super nice, and ask her the hardest question of all;

Is Randy a weird guy? I've seen strange things.

She stares at me deeply, and almost looks frightened, I swear to God, then said,

"I don't know what you're talking about but I think you should leave."

"Please, Shirley, I just want to know the truth." Being a journalist, I have to ask the hard hitting questions.

"I can't talk about what I've seen. I only thought about it when you brought it up. Now leave."

And her dog started barking.


When I came back, my laptop mysteriously stopped working. Go figure. My video evidence in one form, gone, but I always made sure to log out of my accounts, and to keep back ups of evidence. I just still have so many questions.

What was Shirley hiding? When is Randy coming back? Should I move the fuck out?

gtg for now almost done with work.



Submitted February 28, 2017 at 11:43PM by jblankblank http://ift.tt/2lRM0dX

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