Red Silk Murders Episode 7

(Vital Sign Machine beeping)

Everything went dark, but he could hear Claire faintly calling his name. He heard what sounded like doctors yelling out his vitals. He felt pressure on his arm, a squeeze that made him feel like his veins were going to explode. He had a flashback of Claire and remembering being in her apartment. He heard a whisper in the darkness and could suddenly feel his senses awaken. Although he couldn’t move or open his eyes, somehow he sensed everything around him. He heard the whisper again. He wasn’t sure if it was in his head or someone by his bedside. He heard it again and concentrated on making out its words. He focused and cleared his mind enough to hear it, and realized it was his name being spoken by a man. It sounded familiar, but couldn’t tell if it sounded like himself. He saw flickers of light as if caused by a movie projector. He saw Claire standing by a bar with a pink coral dress. Adam wasn’t sure if he was just fantasizing about her. He saw people dancing, drinking, and laughing. He saw the reflection of a sign and was finally able to make out the words: Black Capricorn. Adam quickly realized that it was a memory. He remembered Claire telling him about Black Capricorn. He could feel his heart race and the vital sign machine confirming its pace. The scene changed and showed him having sex with Claire and saw his hand reach for something near his belt. The scene changed again and he was behind Claire over a desk, but in a different room. Her hair seemed longer and lighter. He put his hands on the corner of the writing desk. As the scene played in his head, something in the memory caught his eye. He looked towards a dresser and tried to see what it was. He focused and saw the picture clear— it was Samantha. Adam suddenly felt a sense of dread and could feel his heart drop with fear.
Adam: No… this is not possible…

As he realized that he was experiencing a memory, the more he remembered. He saw a flash and saw himself grab Samantha by the neck with a knife in his hand. He couldn’t bare the memory and tried to think of something else. He tried to guide his thoughts to good memories. Although there wasn’t many, he tried to change his thoughts. He couldn’t accept the idea that he was the one who murdered Samantha. He tried to think of the time he went to Mexico, a small village in Oaxaca. The girl he met there was kind and soft spoken. Suddenly he heard a voice loud in his mind, which shook his brain like a tremor ripping through the earth.


He saw flickering light and stood standing in a room. His room that he had when he was a little boy. Adam felt afraid and turned to see himself as a boy in the corner of the room crying. He looked at his bed and remembered the dingy bed sheet that was covered in cowboy hats, boots, and lassos. The wooden panels of the walls were worn and had dark spots that could be said how old the tree was, when they cut it down. He turned to the little boy and remembered exactly what day it was. He felt sick to his stomach. He approached the boy and tried to put his hand on his shoulder, but it went right through him. He watched the boy lift his head, and both he and the boy looked at the door. He saw a red headed woman open the door and behind her stood a round, sweaty, bald man.

Red Headed Woman: Here’s the little shit. You know it’s going to cost you more.

Sweaty Man: I know. How’s fifty?

Red Headed Woman: Fifty?! You gotta be fucking kidding me?

Sweaty Man: Come on Sylvia, I ain’t got nothing else.

Adam watched the woman think for a moment and sighed.

Sylvia: Oh alright. Fifty now, but you’ll owe me fifty more ya hear.

Adam watched the boy’s face scream with fear. He watched as he ran to the woman and grabbed her leg.

Young Adam: Please ma, don’t let him!

Adam could feel the nausea in his stomach and the pain he felt that his own mother would allow a stranger to hurt him; to abuse him. Adam watched as his mother looked down at the boy in disgust and spoke to the man.

Sylvia: You know what? I’ll take forty.

The man’s belly shook with laughter as he unbuckled his belt. Adam felt sick and hated thinking about his past. He saw his mother leave the room closing the door behind her. The boy screamed for his mother and watched the man slapped him across the face. Adam couldn’t take it anymore and saw the memory disappear into darkness. He heard the voice again louder than before.

Voice: LET ME OUT.

He saw the flickering light again and stood by the foot of his childhood bed. He saw the back of his mother’s head and smoke dancing through the air. He looked down and saw the boys feet react. Adam remembered that day as well, and felt the need to cry. He moved to the side and watched as his mother take a cigarette and burned the inside of his thigh. He heard his young self scream in pain and watched his tied hands turn red from trying to pull free.

Sylvia: Shut the fuck up you little shit!
Young Adam: Please mommy stop!

Suddenly flashes of memory appeared; Adam still felt the pain from the previous memory. As it played like a flip book, it suddenly stopped on a particular memory where he is grown, maybe fifteen years old, his face already worn from his hard life. He was skinny and saw his clothes hang on him like drapes. His dark hair was uncombed and his glasses hung onto the tip of his nose. He looked at the boy and saw a long knife in his hand. He saw him enter the living room and saw his mother facing the television with her back towards the young boy. Her red hair was up in a ponytail and reflected the high noon’s sun. She had a red scarf tied around her neck; she was fond of the French style. Adam could feel his heart race, he didn’t remember and watched the memory like a movie. He watched the boy stay behind his mother’s back and kissed her on the cheek. He couldn’t see her reaction, but saw when the boy took the knife and with a swift movement cut her throat.

Adam: NO!!

Adam cried and stood in shock watching the boy stab his mother repeatedly with an anger he’d never seen. Afterwards he removed the red scarf and covered his mother’s head. He watched as the boy slowly walked towards the mirror that stood hanging on the living room wall. Adam stood behind the boy and could see his mother sitting dead on the couch through the reflection of the mirror. He walked to the side of the boy and searched his face for remorse any expression at all, but there was none. He stood there staring at himself in the mirror. Adam felt sick and disgusted, but stood watching the boy until finally he made a smile as he removed his glasses. It went dark again and all he could hear was his heart beating.

Adam: No! No! This can’t be! I can’t be the Red Silk Killer!

Voice: LET ME OUT!

Adam: Who are you!? What do you want from me?!

Voice: I am you.

Adam: No! No! No!


He opened his eyes and saw that he was in a hospital bed. He looked down at his arm and saw syringes attached to a saline drip. He pulled it out and got up from the bed. He walked over to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. A nurse walked in with a tray.

Nurse: Mr. Moore what are you doing out of bed?!

He looked at the nurse and smiled.


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