2. Starla
Chapter 2
Starla
A s I stood before a room full of eager faces, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were stirring something dangerous from its slumber.
"This documentary is going to shock the world, and all of you are going to be part of it. I can't tell you how happy I am that we're finally going to get started!" I look around the small room in the library where Braylon has managed to assemble a team. A real team of town locals who have all pledged to help in one way or another to get down to the truth behind the Date Night Killer.
Most of them are either high school seniors or early college students, but I'm not going to be picky. All in all, including Braylon and myself, we've got six people to work this mystery.
There's a small applause before the groups break off and start getting to work. Thankfully the library allowed us to use the backroom for our home base or everyone would've had to come back to my small house. I doubt everyone would fit.
Most of the high schoolers worked on the actual editing of the imagery, while the college students worked on research. There wasn't much imagery, yet. I'm determined to change that today. The mother of one of the killers victims still lives in town. Baylor and I are going to visit with her this afternoon.
My palms sweat as I look around the room. Even though there aren't many of us, I still feel uneasy with everyone looking at me. Waiting for instruction. Waiting on me to be a leader. I guess that's my job now.
"Well, let's get to work," I say, trying to force some enthusiasm into my voice.
Braylon whoops loudly, which causes everyone around him to laugh. It's the perfect segue. I take a deep breath, the weight of the spotlight finally lifting as I finish addressing the small group of volunteers. My hands tremble slightly as I step away from the podium, the warmth of their gazes still lingering on me. I’m not used to being the center of attention; behind the camera is my comfort zone. I watch them shuffle off to their workstations, excitement buzzing in the air, while I slip away to explore the library.
The quiet hum of conversation draws me toward the back. Braylon’s voice carries effortlessly, weaving through the room like a warm embrace. He's naturally charismatic, effortlessly charming everyone around him. I feel a flutter of gratitude that he’s on our team, his energy a perfect counterbalance to my shy disposition.
As I wander deeper into the library, I find myself in a shadowy corner where the air feels thick, almost charged. There, tucked away like a forgotten relic, is a microfilm machine. My curiosity piques as I approach, the device a bridge to the past. I flick the switch, and the machine whirs to life, casting a dim glow in the musty room.
I load a reel, my fingers tracing the cool metal as I search for reports on the date night killer. The flickering images dance across the screen, each frame a fragment of a chilling story. I dive deeper, losing myself in the grainy text and faded photographs. My heart quickens as I read about the victims, their lives cut short in a silence that echoes through time.
Why did he just stop? The thought gnaws at me, sharp and unsettling. The killer had terrorized the city for months, then vanished without a trace. Did he tire of the game? Or did he find a new hunting ground, lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike again?
A chill crawls up my spine as I realize how alone I am back here, the library’s vastness swallowing me whole. The quiet feels heavy, almost sentient, wrapping around me like a shroud. I glance over my shoulder, half-expecting to see someone lurking just beyond my line of sight. But there’s nothing—just the rhythmic whir of the microfilm machine and the faint sound of Braylon’s laughter in the distance.
I shake off the feeling, focusing on the reports again. The deeper I dig, the more the world outside fades away. I’m lost in the words, in the horror of what happened, and in the unsettling possibility that the past might not be as distant as I hoped. The tension builds, a low hum in my chest that whispers of secrets waiting to be uncovered.
As I read, I can’t help but feel the shadows lengthening around me, creeping closer, as if they carry the weight of the killer’s lingering presence.
Doing my best to shake off the feeling, I focus on the last date night killing. As gruesome as some of the details are in the media, looking at the picture makes me feel... I don't know... a bit jealous.
The killer went through a lot of effort. There were flowers, a nice picnic, teddy bears. I'm sure before the horror began for the victim, she must have felt like she was being treated like a princess.
That's something that's never happened to me before.
I've had maybe three boyfriends in my lifetime, all of whom were only with me so I could put out. It was sad that I didn't realize it at the time but it was so obvious. The last boyfriend didn't even know I considered him a boyfriend until I told him I expected us to be exclusive to each other.
Turns out he was cheating on me the entire time I thought we were together.
I have exceptionally bad taste in men.
Of course, it would make sense that I'd be envious of how well a psychopath treated his victims.
Maybe that's what I need to find for myself—a crazed murderer.
"Starla, what are you busy with?" Braylon pokes his head around the corner to see me sitting at the small machine.
"Oh, I found this microfilm; there are a lot of good stuff on here." I nod my head, smiling for his benefit.
He walks over to me, his face going serious for a second before he smirks and looks down at me. "You trying to tell me there's something from these news clippings that you don't already have?"
I chuckle and push back from my seat. "No, I've seen it all, but there's no shame in being thorough."
"Come on, we've got something else to deal with right now."
He's still got a slight smile on his face, but I can tell from the tone of his voice that whatever it is he wants to show me must not be good.
"What's going on?" I ask as we make our way back to the front of the library.
The volunteers, along with the librarian, are all standing at the front. None of them are going outside, but everyone is looking at the scene out on the street.
"I know you said you'd show off the library a little bit in exchange for the back room, but I'm not sure it's worth all this," Midge, the old librarian who allowed us to work here, says as she lifts her thumb to gnaw at the nail.
"What's going on?" I ask, trying to push to the front of the small crowd.
Braylon takes a deep breath before he answers me. "Seems like the secret is out. That's probably my fault. I told everyone who would listen that we were doing this documentary. It's a small town. I should've known it wouldn't stay hidden for too long."
I look through the front window of the library, and right there on the street is about a dozen people, all of them screaming and shaking their fists in our direction.
The date night killer is more than just a sore spot for some of these people. For some, it's a memory of losing a family member or loved one.
These people have been hurt by this monster.
I expected some pushback, but I didn't think it would be this bad.
"Everything is going to be fine," I say, more to myself than anyone else. Remembering that I'm the lead on this documentary, I turn to face the volunteers. "We all knew that the folks in town would be upset by us rehashing this, but it needs to be done. The world needs to know about the date night killer."
Everyone around me nodded their heads and turned to go back to what they were doing but I could hear the mumbling. It's the same thing I've heard from everyone when I tell them I'm going to dig around for information about an infamous serial killer.
This is crazy.
"You want to plot out the next few days. Maybe pick out where we want to get some base shots?" Braylon asks from my side, obviously trying to get me to ignore what's going on outside.
"Yeah. I guess we can do that." I answered with a noncommital shrug.
We walk over to the large map we've got pinned up on one of the boards and start talking about the best places to get some shots for the documentary. With a project like this it's always best to have more images, still and motion, than less. By the time we've finished I've located at least three dozen places in the small town where we could get some great shots. As much as I want to be excited about the progress we're making, in the back of my mind I can't help but be concerned about the growing noise the crowd outside is making.
It's not just me, either. Everyone seems like they're more focused on what's going on outside than what's actually going on in the library.
"Alright guys." I clap my hands and there are actually a few people in the room that actually jump from the tension. This is getting us nowhere. "Obviously, the people outside are not going to be happy with us being here tonight. I think we should all go home and get some rest, we'll start back up early tomorrow morning."
Along with the collective groan from my small team there was also a sigh of relief. I have to remember that it's not just me who is affected by the things that are going on here. It's a team. My team.
"You sure about this?" Braylon asks from my side.
"Yeah. I doubt any of them are going to want to be here early in the morning to bother us." I smile up at him and nod my head to let him know that I'm sure about this.
"Alright, peeps, you heard her." Braylon went about getting everything cleaned up with everyone else.
I made my way to the front where the crowd was still yelling and cursing right outside.
"Don't worry about them, they don't understand that serial killers is one of the most intriguing parts of our humanity. It's only natural." Liora says giving me a bright smile. Her thin lips painted noir black spread wide as she smiled and clapped me on the shoulder on her way out of the library.
She's a interesting individual. I'm not sure if she's more interested in making the documentary or murder in general but beggers can't be choosers. I need help and she's willing to give it.
I keep my eyes on the small group of them as they walk out of the library. The group yelling and screaming outside simply parted and let them pass. I sigh when I realize that it wasn't going to turn into some sort of blood bath. The group outside was just there to excerise their right of speech. I'm fine with that. The words they were screaming were still hurtful but I could deal with that.
After seeing that everyone was able to be on their way with no harm I'm ready to get a move on myself.
"I'll walk you to your car. No worries okay." Bryson rubs a soothing hand on my shoulder and I smile up at him. I'm so grateful for him.
Together we walk outside and the roar of the people grows when they see me.
"You murder lover!"
"Shame on you!"
"Get out of here!"
I keep my head down and nearly run in the direction of my car. Braylon staying with me every step of the way.
I do my best to ignore what the people around me are saying but I'm not deaf. I can hear every word and each one slices into me like a dagger.
By the time I get to my car, I'm shaking with nerves.
Braylon leans down into my window. "See, easy, piece of cake." He smiles at me. He doesn't even look rattled. I wish I was as strong as he is.
"Yeah...super easy." I joke right along with him. "I'll see you early in the morning okay."
Bryson nods and steps away from the car so I can pull out.
Every inch I get away from the group of people in front of the library the softer the roar of their anger but it doesn't stop the doubts swirling around in my head.
There has always been something that drew me to the date night killer case. Even when it was happening ten years ago I remember being glued to my television set waiting for news updates. I lived a few towns away from where it was all going down.
My mother was more concerened with me staying safe, I was more concerend with getting into the mind of whoever was behind the atrocities. In fact I can positiviely say the date night killer is the reason I became so interested in true crime programs. Ever since then I've been hooked.
But now that I'm actively in the mix. Actively digging into the real lives of the real people involved I'm starting to think that maybe it's not the best thing to do.
I didn't come out here to hurt anyone. Didn't come out here to make things worse for the town but that's what it seems like I'm doing.
"No, you can't give up." I say to myself but I swear I hear my mother's voice ringing in my ears. No matter what my passion was she was always there to push me to pursue it. Just because she isn't here anymore doesn't stop her life lessons.
I'm going to keep going. If not for me than for her.
By the time I finish the world is going to know all about the date night killer.