An all too familiar silence hangs in the air of our usual noisy city town. The gravity of the events tearing at the lifeblood of Reachville—and surrounding suburbs—has left a definite chill. Children are being dropped off and picked up from schools by pre-verified carers who must also prove who they are each and every time they arrive at educational institutions.
A curfew has been in effect since the funeral of ten victims—from Reachville and her surrounding suburbs—last month. A sense of an eerie calm belies accusational glances as Seamus MacBeth and me walk the city streets hoping to catch a clue, but there’s none to found.
Residents are still unaware if we have two serial killers wandering our streets, one who has experienced a stressor and has upped his, or her, process. With lingering images of missing pinkies and desiccated corpses lining our streets, our children grabbed as if by magic and the total lack of clues, we are a community on the edge.
Council members, the mayor and police chief have been deathly quiet. They have refused to talk to media, or update the communities affected by last month’s slaughter. So, we sit and wait—with gruesome scenarios—playing out in our over active imaginations born of uncertainty and very real horror.
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This is Craven Looney and Seamus MacBeth packing the van, bringing you the news as it happens almost on time, every time.