Prompt: Image # 4/Butterfly
Preface:
Lepidoptrology is greek. It means the study of Butterflies and Moths.
A Lepidopterist is greek for someone who studies Butterflies and Moths. Like Martin Lowell.
http://www.lepidopterology.com/lepsglossary/, Information retrieved on 3/29/2013 <--Is where I got my information on butterflies.
No one would give Martin a second look. No one looking at him would ever think anything was different about him. He was, as far as everyone knew, a very mild-mannered, dedicated Lepidopterist at the local zoo. When his friends and co-workers were asked to describe Martin, they would most often use adjectives such as - sweet, helpful and hard working. Many of the girls he dated would call him the perfect gentlemen. He was the ideal friend and employee. He spent his days at work interacting with the public, and he was good at it. He was great with kids and had the ability of talking to people at any level. It was his quest, he would joke, to help everyone see the beauty of studying Butterflies and Moths.
The Story
Deep in the woods, about a mile off the regular trail, Martin Lowell sat next to a creek. His face was without expression while he dipped his hands in the water to rinse off the blood. Then he noticed the blood on his clothes and shoes. He walked to his truck and grabbed a clean set of clothes and shoes that he had brought, just in case. He would change after he finished digging. When he did change, he would put the stained clothes and shoes in a metal bucket and set the bucket on fire. He would burn any evidence implicating him.
Martin looked around. Butterflies. Their were hundreds of them. All over, swirling around in different directions. Each butterflies design and coloring was unique and exquisite. That is one of the main reasons he always ended up returning to this place. This sanctuary with the butterflies. Martin always felt at peace with himself here. He loved butterflies, maybe he was obsessed with them. It had been this way since he was a child. He remembered what Mother had said when he was young "If a butterfly lands on you, it is a sign of good luck." He stood up, as if he was a kid again, and held very still and waited. Within a minute, the butterfly landed on his shoulder.
Another main reason for this location was the privacy. In all the years he had been coming here, he had never seen anyone else here. Privacy was necessary for what he was doing. He looked at the lifeless, naked body laying on the ground next to where he stood. He took a deep breath, exhaled slow and started digging a shallow grave. It was hard work, it took him over two hours - but he was used to it. This would be the 20th grave he had dug, all the previous women buried not far from where he stood now in the forest.
He went out as usual and watched women, eventually - it would happen. The woman would put herself in a position, alone and unprotected, where he could either knock her out with a cloth drenched with Ether or a choke hold. Then he would put her in the trunk and drive to the spot in the woods.
It had been all too easy this time. He went out to a bar and it didn't take long. He saw her inside and asked if he could buy her a drink, although he could tell she had already had one too many. She agreed, and a drink later he suggested they 'go for a ride' and she walked out with him. In the parking lot he walked behind her as she babbled on about nothing worth remembering, he took out the handkerchief and just as they got to the car, from behind, he put it over her face. She finally stopped babbling and tried to scream but she was out in seconds, he opened the trunk and put her in, hopped in the car and drove away.
Martin failed to notice that on the other side of the parking lot, a couple of men had been recording each other being drunk. They got the whole incident of Martin knocking the girl out and stuffing her in the trunk. Even more important, they had the license plate recorded. They called 911 and reported it, turning over the phone with the recording as evidence.
He was going straight to the woods. To the creek, among the butterflies is where he would decide if he should either assault her and than kill her or kill her and than assault her. It really depended on how loud she was. When he finished, he had already dug the grave so he would set the body in the hole and cover her up with dirt.
The police radio clicked in and announced the search of perpetrator Martin Lowell and the type and license plate number of the car. They also stated to use caution because the victim might still be in the trunk, so don't ram the vehicle. The police found him and sent an unmarked car to follow and observe Martin, who drove directly to his spot in the woods by the creek. As soon as he stepped out of the car the police pulled their guns, ordered him down, hand-cuffed him and put him in the police car.
One of the officers that were dispatched was with the K-9 unit. Once out of the car, the dog ran to freshly turned dirt and found the first of 19 bodies. Slowly and methodically as each body was recovered, they were identified. All of them were open cases, families that have been searching for years to see their kids or kids searching for parents.