Lydia Spencers Narrative

The anger flowed through her veins and killed her mind as if it was a deadly toxin to her spirit. Her eyes which were once full of innocence and happiness were now full of fire and would kill anybody in their path. Just by looking into her burning stare would slash you into tiny, bloody pieces. No one that knew her would be able to recognise her, as the girl they once knew was gone, and it was all because of him; the vicious, cold-blooded

I made my way downtown, to investigate the scene. Curiosity roamed through my brain on how she disappeared, with her husband by her side. Could she have been kidnapped? Taken by her husband? Perhaps another suspect was involved?

You could tell that someone had already touched her because she had fingerprints on her beautiful face, and the laces from her shoes were taken out. There were open wounds on the bottom half of her body that were made by the hungry vultures. The smell of her corpse was so pungent that it would make anyone want to vomit; the smell reminded him of rotten eggs, roadkill, and sewer water. The blood that she was laying in had turned into a dark red that had hardened over a long period of time. He couldn 't look for too long because all the thought about death started to come back into his mind again. Wanting to escape the horrible thought, he ran like a cheetah released to the wild.

As her heart stutters out weak, agonizing beats, she sees the distorted figure once again. She strains her eyes with the last remnants of her strength, but once she recognizes who the figure is, she wishes she hadn’t. Ignorance truly is bliss; she thinks, as her life slips away. She realizes who had caused her to fall—who had caused her to die?

Lilah flinched as the pain settled in her bones. She would’ve been okay with the death, with everything that came with it, but the pain. She’d never been too fond of the way the sting turned to itching. Or the way that the blood pooled around the cuts. The deep red that stained hand and lips the same way. It was everything she detested and lived for.

It started out with a petrifying scream. The police straight away rushed over to the top floor of Ms. April’s condo. As lieutenant George slowly crept the door open. His arms turned clammy and there has been the glisten of sweat running down the face of his neck. His eyes grew with extensive it was as if he had been hit with a fatal blow. however what he saw, no-one else should see. Then Mr. Ferd rushed over and grabbed onto lieutenant George’s shoulder and forcefully pulled him far from the door and now all could see, the corpse, devoid of pores and skin, pitted by way of burrowing insects.

A woman's terrified shriek rang through the cobbled alleys, before it was abruptly silenced the black night was quiet once again. The person standing over her had a deadly, Cheshire Cat like smile. Their white teeth glowed in the dim light of the night. Blood splattered the brick wall and their dark clothing, staining both. The woman that laid lifelessly on the ground had the long knife still stuck through her head. The killer pulled the blade out tenderly, wiping it with a dark, bloodstained handkerchief.

"A Beer please." I recited to the bartender, sliding into a creaky old stool. I kept going over everything in my head, trying to figure out who -or what- was doing all these killings here in Chicago. So far I've labelled it down as something supernatural, and the victims, they were missing their hearts. As I sat here, I over heard a man asking about the victim whom worked here. I couldn't quite make out of what he was saying over the noise, but he didn't just sound like a curious person in town.

Death’s cold embrace was awaiting, his hands fingering at her flickering heart. Why should she stay? The only happiness she had ever had in this world had been robbed of her, through the very medication that should have been distinguishing the pain.

In her mind she silently pleaded for death to take her again, for her to not feel anything. Her body hit the ground hard, groaning from the impact she tried to register where she was. She had fallen on something hard and metal. Snakes were crawling over her, tying her down against the railroad tracks.

The alleyway was desolate with no noises to be heard aside from the clinking of my heels against the concrete road. The street lights were all dead except one lamp that had a dim flickering light. There was a shadow cast near the edge of the alleyway that was inching closer until it were visible. A stranger stood underneath the dim spotlight that displayed their tattered jeans and an oversize sweatshirt that had a sports logo plastered on the front of it. That's all I could study off them before they suddenly charged towards me. As a reflex I flinched, but I stood in the same exact spot that I had been as I watched them. They were now right in front of me with their feet directly in front of mine with their head down. I could feel

All of their corpses lay upon the ground. At eternal rest they lay silent. The remains are bloodied and sliced to the point of no recognition. Time is still, and I stand in the room adjacent from the carcasses. My head is spinning, my breath is quick. The knife in my hand suddenly feels as if it’s one thousand degrees. The smell of iron creeps into my nose and shakes me to the core. I become so shaky that the seemingly ablaze knife comes loose and falls to the ground. A crisp three clicks fills my ear, and I suddenly am standing with a revolver to my head.

The pain had rendered them helpless, they were victims of its pressure. It removed their words and replaced them with the sounds of agonizing whimpers. Everyone laid on the floor, except for the old woman who was seated in the chair, the side of her face rested on a table. She moaned while her victimized arm dangled below her.

One by one they entered the once busy restaurant filled with laughter and love was now filled with the sounds of the flashes of cameras from forensic photographers as they circled her. I watched amongst the shadows staring at her cold corpse, with each passing minute her face seemed to get less lively with the rose pink hue in her cheeks fading away. To these people, she was just another victim but to me, she was my best friend, my sister. I look around for Marco, he was speaking to the forensic analyst, his head down to hide his grief.

Abruptly, the sound of heavy footsteps descended from the kitchen. She cupped her mouth – not even letting a puff of breath surrender her. She struggled to make out her bearings. She tugged at her jacket and fell to the ground. The door creaked open. Her breathing hitched. ‘’I know you’re in here,’’ the sinister tone coated his deep voice. ‘’come out come out where ever you are,’’. Adrenaline kicked in and she stood up. He wore a wicked smile, though she could not see it. “Go ahead kill me!” she laughed with repulsion. However before he could reach her, she darted for the spiral gold rimmed staircase. He grabbed her leg. With a loud thud she fell to the ground. Her head collided with the marble floor. Hair draped across her face in a dark sodden mess. She let the darkness engulf her.