Title: "Revelations: Part 1 of 14"
May 17th, 1997
2:17 AM
It was a dark and windy night. Inside of Berkeley, California, a set of headlights had shown brightly down Gilman Street. They caught onto the desolated street, and continued their manic forward pace. The lights belonged to an older model equipment van. It caught the shoulder of the street in front of the Gilman Apartments, riding onto the curb before it set straight.
Once past the apartments, the van's red brake lights suddenly flashed on. It came to a halt in front of an alley. Some considered the alley to be known as the "Gilman Alley." Regardless, the van idled in front of it.
The driver's side door suddenly swung open. A figure stepped out, and quickly closed the van's door. The darkness masked any visible identity of the man. He looked large, but the contrast of the night skewed any real visible means of comparison. The only thing was that was apparent was the bulk of a long, black jacket. Otherwise, he was no more than a shadow amongst the black setting of Gilman.
Going to the rear of the van, he opened up the back doors. Reaching inside, he latched onto something. It was large and limp. He slid it across the metal flooring of the van. Upon pulling it out, it slipped from his hand, causing it to fall to the ground. The sound was a sickly thud upon impact with the cold, hard concrete. Picking it up, he slung it over his shoulder as if it were . . .
. . . a body.
He walked to the entrance of the alley. It appeared as if he was hesitant to initially walk into it. He sidestepped for a moment. Finally, shifting the bulk on his shoulder, he lunged into the alley. He was back out in nearly under a minute.
He walked back to the back door of the van. There was something else in there. He reached in, careful not to drop it this time as he pulled it out. It was another large, limp object. Suddenly, it was becoming apparent that he truly was removing bodies, dead bodies, from the back of this van.
Without hesitation this time, more of a precise determination, he quickly carried the body into the alley.
Coming out, he again went to the back of the van. Reaching in, he pulled out the third and final limp body. Throwing the body over his shoulder, he closed the van door as quietly as he could. He had made it this far. There was no way he was going to get caught now. Quickly, he walked into the alley.
Coming out, he looked up and down the street, observing if anyone had been watching him. Feeling confident that he had succeeded, he got into the driver's seat of the van and slammed the door. With the click of the gear shifter, the van sped further down Gilman Street, quickly turning onto the first street that he came upon.
Back at the alley, its inner walls contained the bodies of three dead men.
May 20th, 1997
10:36 AM
"This is Ellen Rodriguez, of Channel 5 News." The news had finally found out about the bodies. They were three days too late. As Ellen, a local reporter for the Berkeley news station, stood there and reported the finding, her words echoed the thoughts and opinions of so many others in the community. "Three bodies were discovered this morning inside of an alley off of Gilman Street. Reports still cannot indicate how long the bodies had been in the alley. The names have still not been released. The only thing we know is that a heinous triple murder has taken place sometime in our not so recent past. And only now, have we found out about it.
"Here with me, I have Sheriff Timothy Downs." She turned to her left, as a horrified police officer stood beside her. His gaze was to the ground, his mind obviously still on the scene he had just witnessed.
"Sheriff, can you give us a report on what the investigation feels has happened?" She raised her microphone to his face.
He was slow in finding the right words to express his feelings on the situation. He looked at the ground for just a moment longer, before raising his head into the camera. "There is no definite theory on what has in fact taken place. An autopsy will have to be conducted before we will know what happened to them. Their bodies are . . ." He couldn't continue. "I'm sorry. I still have work to do in the site." His face looked sick. His head quickly turned.
Mrs. Rodriguez, someone who had yet to see the bodies, turned back to face the camera. "Details are still limited somewhat at this moment. There seems to be no evidence that can point one way or the other in this crime. In fact, the only way that they were discovered was by a phone call by a local resident who was complaining of a foul smell. The first place they had called, in fact, had been the local Garbage Company to come and remove the dumpsters that rest at the front of this alley. After realizing that they smell was coming from further inside the alley, it was they who phoned the police."
A sudden burst of commotion sounded at the base of the alley. Mrs. Rodriguez quickly looked over her shoulder. Seeing that something was happening, she quickly moved closer to the yellow tape that surrounded the alley. "It seems as if something new in this crime has arisen." She looked back over her shoulder at the camera and cameraman as she continued to walk.
Coming up to the yellow tape, she stopped and turned back towards the camera. "Perhaps something has came up . . ."
Suddenly, her eyes caught a glimpse at one of the bodies before it was put in a body bag. The person's face had been mutilated. It was barely recognizable as being human. Dried blood coated the upper torso and hair of the person. It had been overkill.
Mrs. Rodriguez quickly snapped her head away from the scene. She tried to look back into the camera, but her stomach twisted. Her face twitched. She reached for the edge of a vehicle for support before she threw up. That morning, she wouldn't be the first nor the last.
The autopsy wouldn't provide any further leads into finding out who the killer had been. With no lead, the case had to go into the file of the unsolved. The killer was never found.
April 20th, 1999
6:42 PM
He was in Seattle, Washington. He quickly gathered what he would need for the night. It was just going to be one match. One match and he was free to get back on a plane and fly back to Karen in Berkeley. Looking around his hotel room, Zero assumed that was everything. He paid little attention to the television show in the background.
He had just gotten out of the shower and was getting dressed for the night. Sliding on an older pair of shin length cutoffs, he reached for a T-shirt and his rings. Throwing the shirt on over his spiked blonde hair and tattoos that ran along his right arm, he fiddled with the first ring he had picked up. It was his lip ring. He walked over to the mirror to make sure the point went inside the hole this time. No need for a cut lip. Still, he paid the television no regard. A news flash had just came on screen.
With his lip ring in, he started with the five earrings. The first three went in his left ear. The other two were for the right. Those were no problem. The only thing left was the bar for his eyebrow.
"There has been new evidence that could possibly lead to a verdict in the horrid triple murder from Berkeley, California two years ago," the television newscaster reported. That caused Zero to turn his head back sharply to the television. The newscaster continued with the update. "Local residents have reported strange occurrences in the alley where the bodies were found. Some even admit to recalling seeing them even before the bodies were found."
Just one match and he could fly back to Berkeley and be with Karen.
That was all that was on his mind as Zero walked slowly back to the couch in front of the television. The thing was, could someone have perhaps finally solved the worst crime that he had ever heard of from his hometown.
He sat down on the couch as the newscaster continued. "Various residents, who wish to remain anonymous, report seeing a person constantly in the whereabouts of the alley. They have even gone as far as to say that this act carried on before the bodies were found. Why they have waited this long is unknown."
Zero, a bit apprehensive, sat down on the couch. What were they getting at? He reached for the telephone.
"But, the reports do in fact show a trend. This has triggered the case to be reopened. The police have now issued a warrant out for the sole suspect in what was a heinous crime. This man goes by the name of Lint Douglas."
Zero froze. He . . . was Lint Douglas. Lint Douglas, the name from his childhood. The name he had long since removed himself from.
"The police are strongly urging people to be wary of this man, and to report any sightings one might see of him." A stock picture of Zero flashed across the screen.
"What in the hell?! What the fu . . ." Zero hollered at the television, and jumped from the couch in confused anger. What was going on? Of course he was always seen at the alley. He was there during the day, sometimes with a fire burning inside the trashcan at night. That had been his true home through his childhood. How could they use that as evidence that he had committed the crime?! He threw the coffee table over in rage.
What was he going to do? Who could he trust? Who could he ever trust? Who was there in Berkeley who would believe him? There was only one. She was the only person who had shown true feelings for him. It was Karen. He lunged for the phone in an act of desperation. Hopefully she hadn't left their apartment yet. She had said she would be grocery shopping during the day, but would be sure to be home in time to see his wrestling match. He had a chance, a slim moment of hope.
He dialed the number to their apartment. The phone rang once. "Karen, be home. For the love of Christ, be home." Zero was spewing his words out faster than he could keep track. It rang twice. "Be home!" But the phone rang a third time, and then a fourth time. Zero let it ring sixteen times. She wasn't home.
He was stuck in Seattle. He couldn't go to the show now. The police would most definitely be there, waiting for him. He couldn't go back to his apartment in Berkeley. They would be waiting for him there, too. If only he could get in touch with Karen. No matter what happened, he had to tell her that it was all a lie. He wasn't the one responsible. He had to talk to her. There was no telling when he would be able to see her again now. He had to tell her he loved her.
He picked the phone up and called the number to their apartment again. This time, he let it ring twenty times. Still, there was no answer. Time was running short. He had to act fast. The options of what to do were limited. Karen would understand whatever he had to do. He was sure of it. At that moment, there was only one option that he could think of. Taking everything that he had packed and throwing it into a travel bag, he went out to his rental. He had to leave. He wasn't sure where he was going to go, but he had to get out on the road and away from anyone who would send him to the Berkeley jail. Once there, he knew there could be no alibi that they would believe. And from then, he would be innocently sentenced for murders that he did not commit.
Pulling out of the hotel complex, his mind flashed back to Karen once more. She would understand what he had to do. He was sure of it. She was the one person who he could trust in this world.
June 22nd, 1999
10:07 PM
It was Ellen Rodriguez, again, who was standing by with the latest coverage in what some thought of be a hoax conclusion to the saga of the alley murders. "After a three month long manhunt," she said, "Lint Douglas was finally caught in St. Louis, Missouri. His court date was immediate. In a strange -well, can this case get any stranger?- twist of events, he was found not guilty of the murders. According to those who were inside of the courtroom, new evidence arose that was able to be used to provide an alibi for Mr. Douglas during the time that the murders were thought to have been committed. Those involved with the trial are not releasing any further information at this time, though. The only thing they are announcing is that Lint Douglas is innocent."
They were strong words. The majority of the public would have a hard time believing that, though, due to the secrecy that surrounded the whole outcome. Regardless, Zero felt as though his life had been somewhat restored to him. The past three months of his life had been nothing but a constant evasion from the police. The question of how he had been let off was a strong one. It was something he would probably never be able to figure out or learn the truth on.
The first place that he went was his apartment. It had been three months since he had seen or talked to Karen. He missed her more than anyone else. Upon arriving at his apartment, though, something went terribly wrong. The lock on the door had changed. Peering through the window, all of the furniture was gone. But worse than that, Karen was gone as well.
Zero would search for her. He tried getting in contact with her estranged parents. They were dead ends. He tried the operator. Karen did not have a phone number. Everywhere Zero went, it turned out to be dead ends. In truth, the longing and then not finding of Karen was worse on him than all of the trial stress could have ever been.
She eventually turned up. Unfortunately, it was three months later, and beside Mason Xavier, known to the wrestling world as "Havoc." He was man who had taken her in during her emotional roller coaster of losing Zero over the summer without him even so much as trying to contact her. That was what she said, at least. Over the span of the next two months, Zero would try to explain to her what happened. He had tried to get in contact with her. He had missed her. He did love her.
It would be to no avail. The battles that would follow between he and Xavier would become more than the common onlooker could understand. Zero was not fighting in the wrestling ring just for the sake of acknowledgment. It was something that tore down into the very roots of man's primal instinct. Fight for what you love. Fight for what you lost. And, if knocked down, get back up and continue fighting.
Months later, the reality that she truly was no longer his did settle in. It was a hard pill for Zero to swallow. But he swallowed it cleanly. Life had to go on past Karen. And life would carry on in a most unsettling twist of events in the months thereafter.
