Murderer Unknown
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:30pm
Thread Topic: Murderer Unknown
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"Wait!" "Stop! What are you doing?" "We won't hurt you!"
All the calls were ignored. Lies. All lies. They weren't my family. They weren't my friends. They weren't even human. I was brought back to reality when I heard a 'swoosh'. I glared ahead at a boy I once knew as Troy. I knew he wasn't the same boy I know. His eyes weren't brown, like they always were. They were a bright amber. He also looked larger, broader shoulders, taller, just plain bigger. Then there were the fangs. Instead of the perfect teeth he'd always had, they were sharper. They weren't exactly fangs. They were all sharper. I kept running, but not at him. I turned off my previous course so I would be able to get away from him.
I heard a snarl from his direction. It only made me push myself harder, run faster. "You won't get away. We're everywhere. We're everything." A shrill voice called from my left. I turned again. I dashed through the darkness of the forest. I saw the faces of all my friends, my family, in the darkness. Only, they weren't their faces anymore. They were twisted into horrific expressions. I closed my eyes. Unbidden tears started flowing. I felt lost. I was broken. I was a mess. My long brown hair started getting caught in the branches.
I kept pushing. They wouldn't catch me. Not again. I don't want the pain. I saw black forms passing me, heading ahead to surround me. I scanned the forest for any way out. I saw more forms dash past me. My legs ached, my lungs burned. I wouldn't get out. I stared running in random directions. I collapsed a few times, but got up again, despite my body's objections. My feet started getting caught in the undergrowth, making me stumble.
I smelled smoke in the air. It just got thicker the more I ran. I started coughing. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I heard more calls from behind me. They were laughing at my weakness, at my resistance. I wouldn't be like them. I tripped again. I couldn't get up again. I tried crawling, but it didn't get me much further. My vision started blurring. The adrenaline rush was fading. I felt the full effects of trying to resist. I was tired, fatigued. My arms and legs were covered in wounds, some bleeding, some not, all covered in a layer of grime. My feet were raw from all the rocks and thorns I had run over. My lungs burned, yearning for precious oxygen. My eyes were sore from the smoke and the crying. I tried to look back. I felt nauseous and dizzy, but I saw what I thought I'd see. I was surrounded by people, some talking, other crying. I felt a stabbing pain as one touched me. I tried to do something, anything, but darkness overtook me.
When I regained consciousness, I was warm. I was in a bed, in clean clothes. I smelled antiseptic. Glancing at the white walls, I deduced that I was in a hospital. I glanced down and saw blood on the sheets and on the clothing that covered my abdomen. I tried to sit up and flinched at the pain I felt. I saw parts of my arms and legs were bandaged, as well as the entirety of my feet. I touched my cheeks and felt a few band-aids. I worked my way up to my forehead. I had some stitches from the middle of my forehead all the way to my left ear.
I turned my attention back to my middle. I lifted the blood-soaked shirt and was greeted by a deep red bandage. I started to unwrap it, going slow to prevent any further damage. I finally got it off, dropping it to the ground. Some of the blood spattered onto the walls and the floor. I took the bed sheet and tried to get most of the blood off. I soon saw my wounds. My stomach was bruised and cut. My one side had a large curved cut. It looked like it had been the one that was bleeding, though it seemed to be nearly healed. There was nothing else that could have bled that much. I unwrapped the rest of my bandages and found similar results: wounds that were nearly healed.
Nothing made sense. Trying to make sense of anything that has happened made my head spin. How was I alive? Why was I here if my wounds were nearly healed? Why hasn't anyone come to check in on me yet? I got up, making my way to the small locker in the one corner. I opened it and found clean clothes. Jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers, nothing fancy. I changed clothes and walked into the bathroom that was directly connected to the room. The bathroom had blood spatters here and there, but that wasn't too bad. There was a shower in the one corner. I couldn't see inside it, but guessed that it would look a lot like the rest of the bathroom. I went to the sink to see how bad my head looked.
I froze when my eyes met those of my reflection. My eyes weren't the usual sky blue. They were the same amber color as Troy's eyes. They were that way for only a second, before flickering back to the normal sky blue. I finally looked at the rest of my face. My skin looked a bit paler, but that could be from shock of the last few days. Half of my face was covered in now dry blood. My forehead also didn't look too bad. I resolved to take out the stitches myself then to wash my face. I took the stitches out one by one. It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Afterwords I washed my face, cleaning off all the blood.
After I cleaned off the blood, I heard a dripping coming from the shower. I approached it slowly, peeking in. I only saw some more blood. I stepped forward and got a full view of the shower. I felt the blood drain from my face. There, in the shower, was my mother. Her short brown hair was standing messily about, her eyes were wide and lifeless, her mouth slightly agape. It was a look of utter horror. That's not what made me sick. Her shirt was torn, her abdomen sliced, no torn, open. Her intestines were pulled out and torn apart. At seemingly random spots her bones were broken at an angle that made them poke through the skin. She let out a loud groan, signifying that she was still alive. Her eyes shifted ever so slightly, spotting me. Her eyes seemed to widen even more as she tried to scream. Why was she here, like this? Who would do something so horrifying to another human being? Torture to this degree is surely worse than death.
My train of thought was broken as one of her intestines moved. Something was trying to get out. Right before my eyes, a small creature fought it's way out. It looked like it's skin had been pealed off, revealing purple-pink muscles and a beating heart between it all. It's skull looked crushed. A moment later, it collapsed. Through this whole process my mother had tried to scream. the whole ordeal was too much. I felt myself gag, but I was vaguely aware of it. There was a monster somewhere in this place, and I was going to find it. I was going to torture it like it did my mother, make it beg for death.
I went to the sink, looking for a razor I saw earlier. I found it in on the counter next to the sink. Picking it up, I went back to the shower. I walked right to my mother, avoiding the bloody intestines and the dead creature. I bent down next to her, razor in hand. "I'm sorry about this, but it's more merciful than this. I'm sorry." I wiped the tears away from my eyes and plunged the razor into her chest. She stopped moving a moment later. I had a choice. Stay and weep or find the real killer. I stood, now a changed girl. Time to find the killer and show him why you shouldn't kill the mother of a 17 year old girl. -
Oh, and it isn't finished yet!
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