Stacey had always been afraid of the dark.

She had always thought it was stupid – but it was compulsive; and learning about the real things that go – or have gone – bump in the night really didn’t help that much.

Though unsure about how, why and when her intrigue with true crime actually began, Stacey became addicted to shows such as Forensic Investigators and True Stories, while constantly looking things up on the Net, trying to discover the unknown truths behind the masked and unmasked criminals of this world, both past and present.

To this day, she could still remember what – or rather, who – created her passion.

After just recently seeing Pirates of the Caribbean, Stacey had developed a deep admiration for the talented Johnny Depp – one of the few actors, she believed, that could actually act.

Searching for other Johnny Depp movies, Stacey had stumbled upon From Hell, a fictional account telling the true story of the larger – then – life serial killer Jack the Ripper; a name she vaguely remembered having heard once upon a conversation.

Now Stacey was a student of criminology, choosing to study the work and psychological conditions of serial killers.

While this topic fascinated her, it also disturbed her – she really didn’t think she could be considered a human if it didn’t disturb her.

The truth is, there are too many reported serial killings for Stacey’s personal liking – she hated to think how many cases go unnoticed.

It is for this reason that Stacey never went walking after nightfall.

And why she hid a registered shot gun in her bedside table.

Stacey had read – and seen – too many dark things to believe in a safe world anymore.

She was no longer innocent.

Stacey wrapped her sheet around her body as tightly as she could. Her bedroom door was bolted shut, yet still she did not feel safe.

Stacey hated the night.

It was cold. Lightening flashed and thunder rumbled. The branches scrapped at the windows, and Stacey squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her mind into the land of nod.

The telephone rang, jolting Stacey out of the deep sleep she had fallen into. Opening an eye, Stacey looked at the time – two in the morning. She let out a groggy noise somewhere between a groan and a sigh, reaching for the phone.

‘Ready…’ the voice on the other end breathed.

Stacey felt chilled. Her heart stopped, her hands went limp and her blood turns cold.

She knew that voice. Too well. Over the past few months since moving here, Stacey had come to know it as well as my own.

‘Set…’

Stacey had called the police, told everyone she could…but they ignored her. Even when she told them what happens next. They say it’s a prank, a coincidence. It doesn’t mean anything.

‘Die!’

The line is deadly silent. Who will it be this time?

Who was next?

The Caller is on the hunt.

Every time Stacey get a call like this, a body is found somewhere on campus. Every victim is different – Tiffany was strangled, Maybella shot, Jessie hung, Sabrina pushed down a flight of stairs. Michael was hit by a car, Dave stabbed with a butcher’s knife and Leighton burned alive.

Poetic stuff, the Caller had said. Stacey had been chosen, he’d told her, because she was special; she understood.

The line goes dead.

Stacey hung up slowly, feeling her body temperature and heartbeat return to normal. Now all she could do was wait.

In less then half an hour, the alarm will ring, the lights will flood the hall, and from somewhere in the college, a scream will erupt.

Someone would die.

Stacey eased out of bed, silent as the grave. She had to tell someone, make them listen.

Stacey unbolted her door, letting herself out into the darkened hallway. Periodic flashes of lightening aided her in making her way down the hall and up the spiral staircase.

James College was one of the oldest buildings in the city of Highland. Built in the mid to late 1800s, the architecture and structure were figments of sheer beauty.

It would crumble anytime soon. It is not as sturdy as it once was – and too old to last through our climatic changes of today.

Not to worry. Stacey would be out of there soon.

Truth was, she’d never planned on going to University. Stacey had wanted to work; do anything but be here. But life with little direction never works out the way you want it to.

Life never works out the way it should.

Stacey never wanted to do this, but once I learnt about those 1888 murders, she couldn’t stop. She was fascinated.

Stacey was going to see Joshua, her fiancé. She would tell him all of this – he had to listen, he had to believe. If he didn’t, Stacey didn’t know what she would do. She just had to get out of there. This had to stop.

What if this was all her fault?

These murders started when Stacey first got there. Maybe they’d stop when she left.

That was the last thing Stacey wanted to believe- she didn’t want that to be true.

But she was sure that it was the way things were.

Joshua’s door was ajar. Did he know she was coming? No. How could he?

Stacey pushed the door open even further. Joshua was lying on his bed, arms at his sides, his silhouette highlighted by the constant flashes of lightening.

He looked so peaceful. Stacey had never seen him sleep – in the four years they’d been together; he always seemed to be on the move.

Joshua worked part – time for his father, Mark Coulter, as a legal secretary in Mark’s firm, Coulter & Sons. Joshua also studied law, part time, dreaming of one day being the head of the biggest law firm in the Western suburbs of Highland.

Stacey approached the bed, suddenly aware of her short red satin negligee. The air was cold against my bare arms and legs, making her wish she’d thrown my Hello Kitty robe over herself.

Very attractive, I know.

Stacey hopped onto the bed and lowered her body onto Joshua’s, anticipating satisfying body warmth which she’d absorb until he woke up.

He, too, was cold.

Stacey raised her hand to his forehead to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes. Unable to stop herself, she pressed her face to his and touched his lips.

They are cold – cold as ice.

Puzzeled, Stacey pulled back and reached over to switch on his lamp before turning back to the man she love.

And screamed.

Joshua’s eyes were open, his mouth agape. A pillow has been tossed carelessly into the corner of his bed, near his head, it’s purpose clear.

He was dead.

For about five minutes Stacey sat there, frozen in shock; unable to utter a sound, oblivious to the stirring in the building. A tear then emerged from the corner of her eye, and she swung her leg over his body, falling to the ground.

Lights were turned on in the hall, and footsteps echoed throughout the building. Before Stacey knew it, people were running in direction of Joshua’s room which was reeked with the odour of death.

Stacey was picked up by a strong pair of arms. She did not hesitate or fight back, but folded herself to fit the body of the man carrying her.

Stacey closed her eyes, her sobbing muffled against the chest of her rescuer. She was carried down a long flight of stairs and out into the stormy night.

Stacey felt too weak to protest, her throat dry and her hands clammy. Stacey’s sobs gently subside as he carried her to the parking lot.

He gently lowered her to the ground and opened the back door, ushering Stacey in while he climbed into the driver’s seat.

‘Where are you taking me?’ Stacey managed to croak.

He turned to her and smiled. Stacey suddenly realised who it was.

She shrunk into the curves of the seat.

‘Tim!’ she gasped. ‘What are you doing?!’

In Stacey’s first month at Highland’s University, Tim Vette, whom she’d known from her psychology class, had followed Stacey around almost everywhere; constantly insisting that they were soul mates and telling her that she would be punished if she didn’t agree to go out with him.

Stacey had never believed he was dangerous, but now she wondered – was he the Caller?

‘Yes, Mandy, it is me,’

God, can he read minds now?

‘We are meant to be together, darling. I love you – and I had to make you listen!’ Tim blew Stacey a kiss before starting the car and pulling away from the University.

‘I have a place for us, darling.’ He said over his shoulder. ‘No one will disturb us,’

Stacey forced herself into a sitting position. So that was it. That was why these bastards kill.

Passion.

Stacey used to believe in only one kind of passion – the flaming hot red passion that went hand in hand with fill – my – life, turn – it – upside – down, topsy – turvey love.

How very wrong she was.

Passion was all – absorbing; that much was true. Unfortunately, it was also consuming, like it’s opposite, hatred. However, the two could also be linked to crate a passionate hatred, which may have been the case for the Whitechapel murderer, Jack the Ripper.

A passionate hatred always led to double trouble.

The kind of passion Tim had for Stacey is a crazed passion. A passion mistaken for love by the beholder – and was anything but true.

Tim was driving out of town via the Pacific Highway in a direction where nothing lay ahead for miles except dense forest. Stacey didn’t have her mobile phone on her, so she had no contact with any other members of the public. Unless, of course, by some miracle, she got a hand on his. Chances were probably about fifty – fifty – to carry a mobile phone while on the run was just plain stupid, in Stacey’s opinion. But then again, Tim wasn’t exactly smart. Most of the time, in class, I reckon he’s up there with the pixies.

‘You’ll love it, Mandy,’ Tim said suddenly, interrupting Stacey’s thoughts. ‘It’s the best – five bedroom house, right in the middle of the rainforest. There were evergreens everywhere. And it’s very private. A perfect place to raise a family.’

Family?

God damn, Stacey was only twenty – two. Plus, she didn’t even love him – doesn’t that come into the equation?

Tim kept talking about the perfect life they could have together but Stacey tuned him out. She realised she could say something to make him angry and hop that he crashed the car.

Without killing her, of course.

That would be bad.

They were now far out of town, about two hours away from civilisation.

Stacey sat back and averted her gaze when he attempted to catch her eye in the review mirror. Her thoughts returned to Joshua and she hastily blinked back hot tears.

She had to know.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Stacey narrowed her eyes at him in the mirror.

‘Did you kill him?’

Tim caught her accusing gaze.

Don’t you dare try to deny it!

‘Yes,’ he replied simply.

Stacey was shocked. He showed no remorse.

‘And Jessie, Sabrina, Michael…all of them,’

Stacey bit her lip to stop it from trembling. ‘Why?’

Tim stared hard into Stacey’s eyes before shifting his gaze to the road ahead.

‘I wanted to be someone,’ he replied slowly. ‘I’ve never been anyone, Mandy. Not that I expect you to understand. You’re beautiful, smart...you can do anything you want, by anyone you want.’

Stacey snorted. ‘That self pity stuff don’t work on me, mister. You think I’ve got it mad? That couldn’t be further from the truth,’

Stacey’s life hadn’t exactly been a bunch of roses. When she was two, her parents were killed in a car crash, which left Stacey paralysed from the waist down. It took her eighteen months to learn how to walk again.

Stacey was raised by her over – protective grandparents and as a result suffered from a lack of socialisation. It was only after she’d met Joshua that her life began to change.

Joshua.

Don’t think about him, Stacey scolded herself. It was too painful.

Despite her restraints, tears spilt onto Stacey’s cheeks just as Tim happened to look in the review mirror.

‘We’ll be able to start over, baby. Start a new life together,’ Tim tried to console her. ‘You’ll forget it all – all the pain will just go away – all we need is each other.’

Stacey had the strong urge to yell at him, tell him that he made her physically sick in the stomach. But she couldn’t let him get too angry with her – not yet at least.

Stacey had to think of something – anything but the current situation.

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, praying for a miracle; that someone would find them somehow…some way.

‘They’ll never catch me,’ Tim said.

Quit with the mind reading already!

‘You’ll never be able to tell anyone,’ he taunted. ‘Even if, by some miracle, you get to someone, they’ll never believe you. No – one did before,’

Stacey remained silent out of spite, though knowing that what he had said was true.

Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll go away.

‘Did you know that it’s rude not to speak to someone who’s talking to you?’ Tim practically yelled. He was getting angry.

‘Seeing as though you’re virtually insane, I think I’ll just forgo the whole politeness issue,’ Stacey replied hotly.

Without warning, he jerked the steering wheel to the right, and the car turned onto a dirt track.

‘I have been patient with you, Stacey – perhaps too patient,’ Tim said, keeping his eyes on the road. ‘It’s about time you were punished,’

The car bounced along the potholes in the track, Stacey’s head occasionally hitting the roof. Looking out of the windscreen, she could only see evergreen trees on either side of the dirt track, which appears to stretch for miles.

Suddenly they picked up speed.

‘What are you doing?’ Stacey asked nervously.

‘If you don’t want me now, I have to make you need me later,’ Tim said, pressing the gas pedal to the floor.

Later?

As the car speeds along the straight stretch of road, Stacey slowly began to digest Tim’s roads, the harsh reality of his meaning hitting her like a ton of bricks.

‘Tim, stop! Stop it!’ Stacey yelled.

He’s planning to kill us. If I don’t want him, he was planning to make me need him.

I know I have to do something.

Remember her Buffy watching days, Stacey I slid down in the backseat and slowly brought her knees up to her chest.

Closing her eyes, Stacey began to count to three, summoning every ounce of strength she had.

On three, Stacey kicked the back of Tim’s headrest as hard as she could. Letting out a yelp of surprise, Tim’s head fell forwards and his hands fall from the wheel.

Stacey undid her seatbelt in haste as she spotted the cliff five or ten metres nfront of the car.

Panicking, Stacey jiggled the door handle and pushed it open, throwing herself out onto the side of the road.

Before easing into a state of unconscious, Stacey saw the car drive off the cliff into the valley below.