Cold, distorted laughter spilled from the speaker. Then his wretched voice said, "Are you that naive? You think I set them free in happy Land?"

Charlie felt tears sting her eyes. A knot had formed in her throat.

The cruel voice continued, growing louder. "They're rotting. Can you imagine it, Charlie? Their cold, dead skin. Insects swarming, feasting, while their sightless eyes stare. While their soundless mouths scream."

"Nooo!" Charlie cried out.

"They begged me to stop. They begged and they cried, but there was no chance. They were doomed the moment they were conceived, because someday, they were bound to cross my path. Just like you."

"You're sick!" Charlie said, the words pouring out of her lips like bile.

"I am. Yes, I am," he said. "How sick am I? Keep looking."

Charlie looked back into the box, hating it. Just the thought of what he did to them--to all of them...so many girls. People's children, sisters, and maybe even mothers. Charlie's heart ached for them. Her pain came out through her eyes as tears. They splashed on the grimy floor leaving clean little circles. If only she could clean away all of his sins. If only she could have held him in that basement so long ago, kept him from running away while Amy got their parents and the cops. If she had done that...maybe these girls would still be alive. They'd have locked him up, helped him, or kept him locked away if he couldn't be helped.

Instead, all of these lives have been snuffed out by him. This twisted, despicable creature. All of these beautiful, happy women...

Charlie's fingers caressed the IDs, wanting to remember every face. Wanting to embed every smile into her mind. She wished she could tell them she was sorry. When she reached the last one, there came news articles.

The Hunt For Dawn Sawyer Continues

The photo showed a young girl, much too young for an ID. Her glasses were huge and her hair was up in long pigtails. She wore a cartoon character on her shirt that Charlie remembered watching when she was little.

Police Still Searching for 15 Year-Old Lacey Wagner

This paper was slightly newer than the others. In fact, Charlie remembered hearing about this girl. The photo showed a dark haired girl standing on top of a cheerleading pyramid, smiling brightly, the same photo they'd shown on TV. Charlie remembered, because it was just last year and the girl was her age, so it really hit home. She didn't know at the time, exactly how much she had in common with Lacey.

Missing Twelve Year Old said another article. This one showed a school photo of a girl with thick bangs fashioned in a style from the nineties. This was when he was still young. As he aged, he must have gone for older victims, she realized.

Georgia Bradley, Ten, Snatched in Broad Daylight

The photo, like the others had been showed it's age. She didn't even have to look at the date on the paper, but she did anyway. March 15, 1994. Charlie would have been ten then as well.

Prayers for Missing Eight Year-Old Shelly

Body of Carol White, 9, Found Mutilated

Charlie couldn't hold back anymore.

"Oh, my God!" Charlie cried. "Why? How could you do this?"

He chuckled, but didn't reply.

"You're evil," she whispered.

"Stop your blubbering, it's weak!" he shouted. "Find. The. Key."

"There is no key!" Charlie said, angrily. She moved all the souvenirs from his crimes around to reveal no hidden keys, then pushed herself away from the box in frustration. She was shaking from head to foot.

"Did you check the body?" He said calmly.

His words struck her--a lightning bolt of shock and fear.

"What?" she said, hoping he didn't say what she heard. The shock of all this, it could have twisted the words somehow, made her believe she was hearing the worst possible scenario.

"The body," he repeated. "Check the body, Charlie."

She should have known. The smell in there was too bad for there to not be something-someone rotting there. Her eyes darted over to what she thought was a pile of blankets on the dirty mattress. That's where the smell seemed to be worse. That's where some flies were swarming. How could she not have known?

As though in a dream that she was watching from far away, Charlie saw her hand reaching for the bottom of the blanket there. The discolored wool felt rough. It was odd to physically feel something that linked her to the action. The sensation grounded her, and brought her out of the overwhelmed dreamlike state. As she pulled the blanket down, hair appeared. Brown, unwashed, stringy hair.

Charlie gasped.

The eyes came next. Milky, almost like someone had removed the color from the irises. The skin around them was dark purple, the rest was pale white. The blanket came down over the nose, then revealed the mouth, locked in a silent scream.

Charlie dropped the blanket and shuddered. Her breaths deepened and her heart went wild in her chest. She'd never been alone in a room with a corpse before. Her skin crawled. Her legs wanted to run far away. But she couldn't. She had to go closer. She needed the key, and there was something small and silver peeking out just under the body's tongue.

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A/N: Hi, everyone! Well I officially freaked myself out with this chapter, eek! I hope you liked it. ;) Thank you so much for reading. You guys are the best! ❤️ Sam