I don’t
have any proof that Michael Pulson is the serial killer I’m looking for. But,
he did have relationships with two of the victims. The first was Audrey Conrad.
A small time local professional wrestler. In the early years of her career she
had been managed and walked to the ring by Michael. Audrey got pregnant and
left the business alone to raise her kid. From what I've been told, Michael
wasn’t good enough to work for someone else. Soon he was done with the
wrestling business. I don't know if he just liked wrestling or he really loved
it. That could be his motivation for the killing. If they stayed friends, it
wouldn’t be hard to lure her to a secluded location.
The second
person I've managed to like with Michael is Paul “Big Paulie,” Figueroa. All
I’ve got on this is that they used to work together at a shipping company.
Nobody could really give me much information on why the two wouldn’t get along
or anything like that. Still, I’ve been looking into this for several years and
I don’t have much else to go on. There really haven’t been any signs of a
regular killer. No taunting messages, no signs of sexual perversion, no unique
symbols or trophies taken from the people.
These two
connections and the fact that Michael fits the profile of a serial killer is
all I have to go on. The Macdonald triad is a group of three traits that may
indicate a person will become a serial killer, or violent criminal. The first
is being cruel or abusive to animals. Michael is an avid hunter, and there isn’t
anything cruel about that. Instead the way he hunts is what makes him cruel. He
lures the animals to a safe spot, traps them and slits their throats. Most
people would just use a gun, but not Michael. The second is arson. I learned
that Michael was expelled from three different high schools for setting fires in
bathrooms. At the time it was ruled as accidental due to smoking. My uncle used
to say once is an accident, twice is stupidity and three times, well that’s
intentional. Then he’d beat me, for something I couldn’t control. Just a fact
of life.
The third
in the triad, is bed wetting. I could not figure out if Mr. Puslon wet the bed
into a late age. There really isn’t any way I would be able to do that without
him discovering I was looking into him as a suspect. But there are other accepted
signs someone has a violent personality. On that list he fits several traits. A
poor family life. I used a fake profile to add him, and several of his family
members on FaceBook. Seems like they all hate each other, a host of abuse, violent
confrontations and blaming for other issues. Apparently, his mother murdered his
father and the nine siblings are torn on it. The mom has been withholding insurance
money from the few that believe she did it. Michael hasn’t taken a side, or she
seems to stay away from it, only hopping in to verify information occasionally.
Honestly, I fit that standard as well, how many of us don’t have fucked up
family lives at this point? Childhood abuse, probably we’re from a generation
where parents got the belt before speaking, even if there were no beatings
abuse can be mental.
Substance
abuse, another trait some would say I share with Michael. Michael is the
classic alcoholic. Whisky for breakfast, vodka for lunch and tequila for
dinner. A steady diet makes sure he’s all the man he needs to be. Honestly, I
think the guy is smarter than I’m giving him credit for, he’s just hammered off
his ass most of the time.
“Excuse me,”
comes alongside a knock on my window, I peer up to see the long arm of the law.
“How are you
tonight officer,” I roll down the window.
“Can you
tell me what you’re doing in this neighborhood?”
“I’m just
waiting on my friend Michael. He lives in that apartment right over there,” not
exactly a lie.
“Well, I
got a complaint from a woman who says you’ve been sitting outside her place for
three days in a row now. You got any idea why she might think that?”
“I have no
idea officer.”
“How about
you just move along, and if I see you again here, I’m taking you to jail.”
“Sounds
good to me,” I pull off slowly as he walks back to his own car.
Probably
not my brightest idea, staking out someone’s apartment in plain sight. Any
number of people probably thought I was there looking for them. I’m slipping, I’ve
gotten too comfortable in life. I’ve accepted being average, and no longer see
the purpose in going the extra mile. A few years ago, I would have been on the
rooftops, all black, with my car parked a few blocks away. Now I’m just hanging
out in front of spots eating snacks in my own car. I might not be an addict
like people think, but my life is a mess.
I need to
find a new lead on this case, Michael isn’t my guy. I’m sure he gets his rocks
off to some other sick kind of stuff. Watching gore on the internet might be
enough for him. Sill, I think these murders my be magical in nature. Vampires
and werewolves can be ruled out based on the type of murder. Vampires wouldn’t
leave that many wounds, and werewolves wouldn’t be so neat. Hell, any I can’t
think of any Lycan that would.
There are
other ways to get information in this city, less legal ways. Information
brokers, people who deal in the dark arts. Things that the average human may
not be able to get to. But I’m not human, so I can go places they can’t. I can make
deals they can’t for things they could never know. I suppose I need to schedule
an appointment now.
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