Curse of the Nightfall

School is open again and we are now in 4th year of nursing class. We enrolled in the local state college. Roland is a presence to reckon with as he is a bank manager nearby. The bank is adjacent to our school so often times we lunch together in the carinderia—a small restaurant. Me, Stephen and Roland and now for some few months of acquaintance I lost the initial impression on Roland as we become friends. I’m accustomed to someone I think is trustworthy. Sometimes we talk about the mystery killer and how possible to kill through internal combustion without apparent sign of entry other than the eyes. We are wrong of course but how can anyone correctly comprehend something like it?

‘Ok, if it only kills men—then why is that?’, I suddenly blurt it out one time.

Roland gives a hypothesis, ‘I think with something like that, its sort of magical, I go for witchcraft, maybe a girl, who hates men that much, who knows why?’

Roland is sort of introvert at times, too reserved in his speeches and a more or less shy type—or is he really, or its just the nature of something hiding the horrible beast in himself?

I learn too that Roland had a girlfriend who was reported missing 3 years ago. There is a news clipping on her that Roland showed before and her name is Missy Riviera. They planned to get married but unfortunately, she went missing. Roland said, she went mountain hiking with her friends in a local tourist spot but she never returned. Nobody reported her until her family went to the police for assistance.

I believe that then.

Yes, as far as today, we never knew that Roland is a serial rapist and murderer. He is the one who raped and murdered Stephen’s mother. Nobody had known it nor had he any police records. He was in town then under the influence of weeds, alcohol and some narcotics. He drove an unlicensed vehicle from the city to town.

Screeching car tires, as in a hurry, the contact of tires and grit on the ground gave the impression that the driver was drunk. He recklessly rode from the city and finding a road side gasoline station he maneuvered it to have a full tank.

‘Do you accept cards?’, He reeked of alcohol.

The attendant declined his card, ‘No sir, we only accept cash.’

He produced the bills for payment. Then proceeds to park farther. Beside the gasoline station is a grocery store wherein he went and bought for some cigarettes. While smoking, as he was sitting on the pedestrian lane beside the store, he was pondering in his intoxicated mind how to have another of his passion of sexual atrocity. He loved how he imposed his masculinity on women by force through rape and murder. He finds joy whenever he satisfies himself in sexual pleasure by brutal force. It is a discordant kind of mentality he has in his being, and such that he has some few victims including Stephen’s mother. He was never remorseful. The thought that he could be mentally sick is a rigid understanding if we have known of it, and sure do, we will know.

‘Mister, can you give me a spare change?’, a dirty looking beggar disrupted his thought. He ignored the kid. The beggar went to sit on the pavement counting some spare change he collected for the day. It may not be enough for a meal much so if he has a family in need, too. Beggars proliferated in the country in as much that poverty is prevalent, joblessness and adding to it is a corrupt government. Roland finished college and has a degree in accounting yet he was jobless momentarily, and during his daily escapades, the blood of evil is always in his veins ready to attack for another prey, this time in our town. He puffed on the remaining cigarette then flipped it off to a trash can.

This is the Roland we never know bec as far as our acquaintances is concerned, he looks to be someone we can trust, someone dependable in times of crisis yet the seething evil in him is invisible, yet it is there. Yes, it will always be there until the hands of fate intervenes wherein vengeance must be fulfilled, for justice—or else, the killing will never stop. I’m speaking of the night killer as a curse of the nightfall, is being realized.

He started the engine, conked out and produced a puff of dark smoke. The engine just died out. Out of desperation, he cussed strongly cursing God in misdemeanour. He opted to nap for some few minutes as he became sleepy. He dreamt. In his dream, he has great fear of the unknown that is stalking him, he cannot see it yet the sense of death is there chasing him, it’s just no one—yet the fear inculcated in it is profound, he needs to run and away yet the farther he goes the stronger the fear become, he resorted to screaming yet nothing escapes from his throat except a hissing sound. He woke up.

That dream again. Whenever he was intoxicated, the dream was recurrent as though posing as a warning, or threat. We know this to be his future and the way to end his brutish secretive kind of evil. He went to the grocery store to buy a bottle of water then poured it on his head to have some form of comfort, a recourse he needed just yet. He tried the car again. This time it started. He drove a few miles before he reached town.

Passing by Stephen’s house, he remembered him—and his mother, beautiful and delectable. She always looked delicious to her as in his sexual fantasies, he owned her like he needed her to complete his manhood. Slowly, riding the car and pressing on the car brake, he just casually explored the residential area looking at how he missed the place. He had a glimpse on her on the yard sweeping and doing some domestic chores. He vowed, ‘I’ll come for you, queen of my imagination.’

Then it happened. He raped and murdered her.