The following story is completely true and accurate. I was an eye-witness from a vantage point so near to the event that it is a wonder I was not spotted nor silenced forever for what I saw. Even now, I get nervous recounting the events of that night, despite knowing that the perpetrator is himself dead and gone.
They walked beside each other, chatting away like old friends. The man in white was dressed to the nines, with a top hat adorning his bald head and a green and red scarf around his pale neck. I don’t remember much about the man in green. He was very nondescript, though I clearly recall he had a huge head of hair, whipped up into a frenzy of what might have been frothy bubbles.
They were both animated in their conversation, and I could hear laughter even if I couldn’t quite make out the words. It happened that they were walking along a very narrow path, slick with the recent flooding. On one side of them was a steep and very high cliff which had no easy landing should one put a foot out of line. On the other side was a large reservoir, full to the brim with water so deep that ten men could have stood upon each other’s shoulders and still would not break the surface.
The path was far too narrow for the men to walk aside each other, and so they were forced to stop and discuss their next steps.
The man in white extended his neck to see as far as he could see, while the man in green was waiting for direction. I noticed the sly look in the cold black eyes of the man in white. His top hat suddenly made him seem sinister, and I had some inkling that I should make myself as invisible as possible so as not to draw his attention.
The man in white made a deep bow and indicated that the green man should go ahead. I saw him carefully make his way forward onto the wet pathway, and my heart began to beat very fast.
Suddenly, with a shriek that cut deep into my brain, the man in white lurched forward and pushed the man in green very hard so that he flew sideways off of the steep cliff and down to the deadly ground below. He did not move. I could hear maniacal cackling from above, and I was afraid.
As I watched, silently from across the way, the man in white climbed slowly down the cliff face and checked the man in green. He saw that he was dead, and somehow, despite his somewhat frail appearance, he managed to carry the green man all the way back up the cliff. For a few moments he was silent, watching the man at his feet. And then, with a swift manoeuvre, he kicked the green man once again off the precipice, this time into the deep waters of the lake.
When finally the man in white left the scene, I hastened away and alerted the authorities. Eventually the reservoir was drained and when they looked into the depths, they found the man in green… as well as other men in brightly colored garments. They call him the “Rainbow Killer.” And while he’s never been caught, I know he will kill no more… For I know what they do not… that the man in white is locked forever in a wooden crate somewhere in Central Florida…