The Thirteenth Pen
A Halloween story: thirteen pens in a rack in a storage locker, each matched to a killer, and a man looking for a loophole out of hell.
"Ladies and gentleman here is the final locker of the day", the auctioneer said as he quickly cut off the lock and pulled the door up.
"Once again you can look but don't touch"
Inside the locker were boxes labelled with various house rooms along with a small table that held a rack of thirteen pens.
"Ok, what is my starting bid, two hundred dollars do I hear two fifty..."
Six months earlier.
Another body found shot twice, which would not be something unusual in this neighborhood, except that the corpse was holding a near rectangular piece of his skin. On the skin were Three names written in blood. It was the first body found by the police but not the first one arranged in such a configuration. Others might be found but many would never be. It didn't take the police long to match the names written on the skin to two missing persons and one unsolved murder.
He was very particular about the pen that he used making sure that it fit the person. If they were elegant or plain, thin or fat the pen matched them in some manner. A limited edition of 13 chosen not made but to fit a theme that even the police could not figure out since they didn't have the pens only what was written down.
He knew that there was no forgiveness for what he had done but there might be a loophole. He found it in a bookstore hidden beneath dime novels and cookbooks. The book was ancient and written in a rusty brown ink. It told the story of a path out of hell gotten by the sacrifice of 13 killers, not too hard a task except that each one would have to list out the ones they killed written in their own blood on a sheet of their own skin. He'd been very busy and the pens were kept in the storage locker along with his other equipment. He had stopped by the post office and picked up the last pen purchased online and sent from overseas. He was careful because that's how you didn't get caught and with only one more there was no way he would get caught now.
On the side street across from the house he quietly open his door and removed the bag from the trunk. He went around to the back door and quickly broke the lock. He could hear the last victim in the front room moving around so he quietly snuck in and leading with his gun moved to the front room where he found the man sitting on the couch with his head at an odd angle indicating he was dead. Across the room was another man dressed impeccably who seemed genuinely pleased to see him.
"Oh Roger at last we meet"
" do I know you?", said Roger
"Well I am you biggest fan and appreciate all the gifts you've given me" replied the man.
It dawned on him exactly what was sitting across the room from him.
"I only have one more and I can't be taken"
"yes that would be true except I'm the father of lies and roger you're the thirteenth"
The bidding got up to $500 before the locker was sold to an impeccably dressed man who seems to stand out amongst the jeans and flannel.
He only took the pens and a book to add to his collection and put out for the next sucker.