Killer Inside

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by Lil_Tiger, Jan 2, 2013.

  1. Bear with me, I'll update as often as I can. Post feedback on my wall or if you want to talk about it more in depth, PM me. Thanks and enjoy!


    The death itself wasn't important to me. It was who died that was. Most serial killers took pleasure from their kills. I didn't. I wasn't a normal serial killer anyway. My methods were unique, my style was ever changing and my lust for blood could be controlled. They couldn't catch me.

    I flip the switchblade around my fingers, the short edge whistling through the air. As it flashed through the air, it glistened and sparkled in the light. I stopped my walking, flipping the blade a last time and closing it, tucked away in my basketball shorts. Looking around, I smiled happily. I was at the field of Samantha Grey Middle School.

    I started walking across the field ready to find my victim. She was a blonde with green eyes. Slightly on the plumper side, she weighed about 140 lbs, 5'4". She had a cute smile, perky little nose and small ears. Her hair was very long, and waved beautifully every time she turned like she did now, letting me catch her position.

    I took a phone out of my pocket, selected her number and hit send on my not-so nice text. Stuffing it back in my pocket, I started a jog to the school. My eyes were riveted on my target, watching her read her tiny little pink phone before rushing to the girl's locker rooms. Poor thing, wasn't very stable. Needed someone like me to help her.

    I ran toward the small crowd on the back top. There were ten, maybe eleven people milling around. In 3 minutes the bell would ring to single all musicians into the MPR to prepare for their concert this evening. Then they'd be gone. I passed them, nodding to a few as a guy did a cat call. I smiled but headed to the girls' locker room.

    I followed my target into the locker room, locking the door behind me. She was in a shower stall crying. I went to the rack of towels and pretended to be exhausted from my 'run', slumping down on a bench and panting loudly. After a few seconds I stood up and walked to her stall. I knocked on the tile wall.

    "Hello? Is everything OK in there?" I asked softly as I pulled the blue shower curtain aside.

    She was huddled there, tears silently running down her face. I looked at her and smiled inside. My face was a figure of concern. I sat down next to her and put my arm around her. As I did so the bell rang. She jumped a bit but stayed put.

    "Kerri.. I... He said... Something... " she started to tremble in my arms and I hushed her as she blabbered on about what Josh had said. Little did she know I had his phone.

    "Shhh... Jade listen.... It's ok, just ignore him because there are better boys out there, right?"

    She nodded and wiped away her tears. I helped her up and lead her to the sink. Her eyes were red and she rinsed her face with cold water as I continued to talk softly to her. I flipped my switchblade out in doing so, twirling it under the counter as I spoke. She dried her face and turned to face me as I smiled at her.

    "Thanks. I need to be calmed down..." She gave a soft smile and turned to walk to the door. I grabbed my towel in one hand, blade in the other. I watched her reach the door and try the handle.

    "Damn! They locked it. Do you know why..." she turned to finish her question but stopped short.

    "They didn't lock it, I did." I walked toward her, swinging the knife letting the blunt base connect with her head. She fell forward and I caught her standing. I walked the limp body to the long flat bench in the middle of the locker room.

    I placed her down and walked to my locker, taking out the rope and bag I had there. I wrapped a loop and around each ankle and ran them to the metal poles the were imbedded in the concrete floor. I did her spread eagle style and tied my towel over her mouth. Satisfied I grabbed another towel, wet with freezing water, and dripped it on her face. She awoke after a few goes and started to silently scream as she saw me with the knife in had.

    I smiled and looked down. I drew the knife softly across her face making a shallow cut but leaving a red line. Jade Helm. B straight student, first chair flutist. 14 years old. My first blood.
  2. I love it. :D Murder/Mystery books are the best imo. Finally a story that has perfect spelling :lol:
  3. I like it  Can't wait to see what comes next, great job :)
  4. Wow o_O u r a good writer lol keep it up :)
  5. Thanks, I'll add some more later today
  6. End of the Prologue. Chapter 1 tomorrow of tonight. Feedback, ideas and comments welcome. Idk if you guys want a separate thread for that. Tell me if you do. Enjoy!

    The blood from the cut started to drip down Jade's face. She stopped screaming and was just crying freely now.

    "I'm not one for torture Jade. Don't worry, it'll be over quickly." I patted her on the head and walked over to my locker. Inside I withdrew the knives I had within. They were kitchen knives I had stolen from Home Economics.

    I sauntered over to Jade and laid all ten out next to her. There were four five inch blades, gleaming sharp and razor tipped. The rest were smaller and varying in size. I took the smallest, maybe two inches, in hand and pushed up the sleeves of her dress shirt. I dragged the blade across the pale forearm, swiftly breaking the skin. The five inch cut started to bleed. I mirrored it on the other arm.

    I observed before picking up the other small blade in my left hand. I moved to above her head looking down. Twisting them turned to twirling before I drove my right hand knife into her left arm. Quickly I plunged the other into her right arm.

    Jade screamed and arched her back but the knife tip was imbedded through her arm into the wooden bench. I watched for a few minutes before pulling the knives out and thrusting them through the corresponding hands.

    I watched her and realized no feelings filled me. No guilt, remorse or passion. Not even lust for killing. I watched her suffer and felt nothing.

    Reaching for my three inch knives, I bent Jade's knees, leaving her feet flat on the bench. I once again stabbed right over left into her feet. She once again thrashed but much weaker this time and I could tell she was fading fast. I took three more knives, longer that the first four, and used one to cut a lock of her hair off. I took it and tucked it in my pocket. I left it stabbed in the bench next to her head. The other two were stabbed in her shoulders, turning her beautifully white shirt crimson. Blood started to also escape her mouth, leaving a trail as the clots fell onto the bench.

    I took my five inch knives out and looked on last time into Jade's pretty face. She had stopped screaming and had almost passed out from the pain. But even now she was beautiful. I looked into her eyes, ones that had been lively and full of fun and energy. They were now dark and lifeless, she was fading fast. I twirled my knives and with rapid succession threw two into her eyes and one in her heart. The last one I used to break the fire alarm in the wall, the roof sprinklers starting to run. I watch as her life ebbed away. Scary as it was, I could still feel nothing.

    The water covered everything. I ran and shut my locker, grabbing my bag as I ran to the sink. I looked at myself. Simple brown hair, just touch blond. It was wavey enough to not be straight but not curly. It rest right below my shoulders. My soft green eyes were ablaze, a passion lurked within and it was obvious a hatred did as well. Dark and dangerous, they showed a pride that was unheard of. I licked my dry lips and wiped the splattered blood from my face, which was thin and narrow but with gentle cheekbones and small lips. The face of a teenager.

    I rinsed my hands and gathered my things. The raining water soaked my hair and distantly an alarm was ringing. I took my last knife from the back and carved a word into the metal door. Closing the door behind me I heard screaming coming from the MRP. The last knife was, in a final conclusion to my first kill, drove into the door handle, jamming it shut. I wiped my fingerprints off and started to jog away thinking of the word I carved on the wall: One.
  7. *wavy. Fingers slipped
  8. Chapter 1. Feedback appreciated. Ideas welcome. Enjoy!

    Chapter 1

    I jogged home, bag on my shoulder. The two-story house loomed above me. I pushed open the solid oak door. I went to the kitchen and nicked an apple of the counter. I took a bite and my mom turned to look at me. One glance and she dismissed me. I lowered my gaze, as her voice cracked.

    "Shower. Now. What were you thinking, a run at 5 o'clock?" She snorted and waved her towel at be before going back to washing dishes. "Dinner in 20. I'm going out with David. You'll be on your own."

    I trotted up the stairs and checked the time. 5:40 pm. Good. I could catch the start of the 6 o'clock news.

    I showered in 10 minutes, quickly washing my hair. I dried it and smiled. Smell of apples, my favorite. I walked out of my bathroom into my room. My mom was rich but I didn't like to use it to my advantage.

    My room was large, bigger than most master suites. It was about 40 by 40 feet with a full sized bathroom. Queen sized bed, TV, speakers, gaming systems, and bookshelves decorated my room. Bookshelves lined the walls either side on my bed which was centered on one wall. It was those I walked over to now.

    The books were arranged by author and I fingered through until I landed on my murder novels. Perfect. I grabbed some and put the on my bed. I changed into my pj's, fuzzy green pants and a soccer t-shirt, and tossed the bag on my bed. I ruffled through it. Nothing to connect me. Good. I grabbed by books and ran downstairs.

    I peeked into the kitchen to find my mother gone. With a smile I spotted my dinner. I quickly picked it up without realizing how hot it was. Balancing the hot plate and my books, I worked my way to the couch. I almost dropped the plate on the coffee table before falling back into the plush cushions of the couch. The books were piled next to me and I hunted around for the remote to the TV.

    I turned it on with one hand and fanned my steaming potatoes with the other. The channel was already set and with a contented sigh I leaned back, plopping my feet up onto the glass table. Tenderly I sucked my burned fingers as the TV flashed with breaking news. I smiled.

    "Breaking News ladies and gentlemen as we head over to Samantha Grey Middle School tonight where we are still learning the details of what appears to be a false fire alarm. Janie, over to you," Mike Sorrund said with a false smile in his face.

    Oh you know what's happening, I thought. You know everything...

    "Thanks, Mike. The audience to the band concert over here at Samantha Grey Middle School received quite a surprise during the start of one of the most anticipated songs of the evening. After first chair flutist, Jade Hilly, didn't show up earlier this evening with no explanation to her absence, the concert was already delayed. But after the fire sprinklers went off, the concert had to be stopped for good. As we speak, the police and fire department are doing a walk of the school.

    It will be incredible interesting to find the source of this- hold on a moment Mike."

    The camera switched back Mike, looking very confused.

    "Well, we'll have more information on that in a moment," he said slightly flustered.

    Suddenly the camera flashed back to Janie.

    "Breaking News here at Samantha Grey Middle School. The police have found a knife jammed in the door to the girl's locker room here at the school. As we speak, they are attempting the enter the building."

    The cameraman and Janie jogged toward the locker rooms, taking the same path I did. I watched, the crime being replayed in my mind.

    "Sir, can you tell us what is occurring here?" Janie questioned an officer.

    "We have no conclusions as to what may have occurred here this night. No further comment." He walked offscreen and Janie ran after another officer.

    I sat amused as I watched the screen. Janie continued to walk around gathering as much information as possible until someone called offscreen and everyone turn ad ran back to the locker rooms. A crowd was around the door to the girl's locker room: reporters, musicians, audience members and city officials. Policemen were holding the crowed back and Janie quickly join the crowd.

    Mom came in and looked me.

    "I'm leaving. David will be here shortly. I might not be back until morning."

    I looked at her and wondered how she was my mother. Her face was long and narrow with perfect features. I had prefect features in a cute way, my mom was beautiful. Long, luscious locks fell over her shoulders, the ends perfect ringlets. Crimson lipstick covered her full lips. I shivered. The same color as Jade's blood. Huh, I thought.

    What really got me was my mom's eyes. Everyone told me my eyes were my best feature. I agreed. Every time you looked in you saw something different, even I did. But my mom's, they were hard, unforgiving and almost lifeless to me. I watched as she turned and left, the black kitten heels clicking on the floor. The dark purple cocktail dress was short and tight, bring out all my mom's great curves in any light or at any angle. No wonder she was dating for the second time this month.

    I gave a cat call as she left and directed my attention back to the TV. No new news had been given out. The reporters still didn't know anything and the police weren't talking. As they blabbered on, I engrossed myself in a murder novel. I read for a good half an hour, slowly picking at my food at the same time, before any news came out.

    I sat forward intently and watched. Word had gotten out there was a body. I laughed. This could be awhile if that's all they got. I watched all night, going through my novels before an actual description had been out together. It was around 12 when everything had come out. I laughed again. They weren't even close.

    Grabbing the laptop on the coffee table, I drew up the report online and looked it over. I shook my head and printed it out. The police had got something's right. I turned back to the TV as Janie did her report.

    "It was tragic night here at Samantha Greg Middle School. What first appeared to be a faulty fire alarm turn out to be a murder committed minutes before the police arrived.

    "Jade Hilly did not show up for her concert tonight and was last seen entering the locker room. She was found mutilated and murdered in the girl's locker room, with more than 8 knives puncturing her body. Police have found almost no evidence as the water from the fire sprinklers have appeared to washed it away.

    "Right now, a young adult woman is the most likely murderer the Police have concluded. Don't take anything for chance though. However, it is clear we have a murderer on the loose. Keep your doors locked and children close until this is resolved. This is Janie Sulliman here at Samantha Grey Middle School. Back to you John."

    As John flashed back on, I shut the TV off. I put my dish in the sink and grabbed my books. I had ideas for my next kills.

    In my room, I puzzled over the police report. They didn't mention the hair or writing. I didn't care though. They'd realize soon enough. Tomorrow was Sunday and I had another murder planned. I curled up in my plush bed and hummed slowly to myself.

    "Red, the blood of angry men. Black, the dark of ages past. Red, a world about to dawn. Black, the night that ends at last. Red, I feel my soul on fire. Black, my world if she's not there. Red, the color of desire. Black, the color of despair..." I fell asleep, the tune echoing through my mind.
  9. I'm beginning to think that your MC has major self esteem issues.
  10. Tell me how you like this. I don't know if I did a good enough job on her acting. Tell me if I should rewrite it and I will. Enjoy!!

    Chapter 2

    Bright sunshine broke through my window, falling on my bed. I was awake already, skimming my books on last time. The phone next to my bed rang, I caught it on the first ring.


    "KC, that you?" a soft voice said.

    "Kerri Cadwell, at your service."

    "Have you seen the news?"

    "No... What's new? Been reading," I said in a cautious tone.

    "Jade Hilly was murdered yesterday." If possible, my best friend voice got even softer.


    "Jade, murdered, yesterday." He said it slowly this time.

    "No... what? Are you sure?" I went panicky on him.

    "Yeah. They're allowing students to go over and pay respects. I can pop by in 10 if you want to come to the crime scene."

    I tried really hard to put all enthusiasm out of my voice, "Yeah, I'll be ready. See you then."

    "Bye KC."

    I hung up and breathed a sigh of relief. Pretending to know nothing would be hard. I had picked up tricks from my novels though, I'd be fine.

    Checking the time I grabbed my hairbrush and quickly ran it through my hair before putting it in a braid. Throwing on some jeans and on of those "Love, Peace and Happiness" t-shirts, I headed down stairs and grabbed my phone off the counter. A green pear was looking very inviting in the fruit bowl so I took that as well.

    Nothing from Mom, she was probably still out. I wrote a quick note for her and put it on the fridge. Then I switched the TV on and found Jade's case. I stood and watched silently while crunching my pear.

    They showed photos from the scene, Jade's old school photos, her parents and the school were kids were gathering right now. I watched for a few minutes until the doorbell rang. I went to open it.

    As I had thought, Chris was standing there. Christian Jones: my best friend, my only friend and my crush. He took one look at me and gave a small smile.

    "May I?" His voice was soft and sweet. I nodded and watched him enter.

    He had dark brown hair, almost black with unwavering light blue eyes. Casually, he had his hands tucked into his black jean pockets which were hidden slightly under his too big Green Day shirt.

    Chris was the nicest guy I knew but the most unforgiving. Never was he mad or raised his tone, just one eyebrow. He has a soft smile and gentle voice, surprising for a guy his size who is 5'9" and 160 lbs of muscle.

    His eyes were what got everyone. They were cold. It looks as though they dig through your body looking for something. But he wasn't cold, ever. When he looked at me, I could see a flash of happiness and humor dance in them for a second.

    I assumed it was from the car crash seven years ago. We were eight, our birthday's only days apart. His parents crashed into a swerving car, killing them both. My parents had a fight over this and whether they should help the family, my dad eventually leaving. Luckily, my mom still tolerates Chris because she knows it's one thing that makes me happy. But after that, Chris became quiet and withdrawn. He grew sad but was still friendly to most. Many people left us alone though, after that.

    He now walked forward and closed the door with his left hand and embraced me in a hug. I rested my head on his shoulder.

    "Are you ok?" he murmured in my ear.

    "Yeah... Let's go." I walked back to the living room and switched off the TV.

    Chris lead me outside and I set the automatic lock from there. We walked side by side all the way to the school, only a few blocks away. I questioned him about what was known, pretending to be upset about the situation.

    When we finally arrived, police asked our names and if we had any information on the case. We both said no.

    "Just here to pay our respects, sir," Chris answered for the both of us.

    "Carry on."

    We walked over to the locker rooms and watched the grieving crowd out front. On the outside, I was shocked with the murder. On the inside, my heart felt like purring. This was the reaction I wanted.

    About 50 people were crying or talking in hushed voices on the ground, They were placing candles, photos and flowers at the scene. Some were praying. The body had been removed but police were still taking photos and statements.

    Chris and I walked over to hole in the crowd and knelt down. I payed my respects and Chris comforted me. I was good at being sad. Unfortunately, it wasn't good enough.
  11. This is a great story. Its got lots of suspense. 10/10. Cant wait for more
  12. Little errors. paid*

    But it flows decently. Just a tip: remember that your MC, no matter how crazy, is not totally demonic. She's human, too.
  13. Thanks! More today. Hard to make her sound human yet undisturbed by killing.
    This is pretty great
  15. YOU ARE ******* AWESOME IM 12 write one about a little kid named Sam getting murderd in a tree house
  16. I have a more graphic Prologue if anyone wants it. I'll post if I get requests. It's a bit more in depth on the death but I wasn't sure if people were comfortable about that seeing as this is more commonly graphic genre. Anyway, enjoy! Next one should be out tomorrow or so.

    Chapter 3

    A hand tapped me on the shoulder.

    "Excuse me?" a male voice said in my ear.

    Chris spun around and was about to give the man a word but turned straight into an officer. I turned and looked at them both.

    "Yes Officer?" I said politely, touching Chris' hand to tell him it was alright.

    "May I have a word? Both of you." He walked a short distance away without waiting for our answers. We followed and he started to question us.

    "We were talking to some of the band musicians- Jack, Marcus, Danielle and.. " He checked his notepad, "Macy? Do you know them?"

    "Yes, we both do. They go to school here, just like us."

    He made notes as we spoke.

    "They claim they saw you here at school the night of the murder at around 4:30 even though you are not part of the band nor were you in the audience. Is that true ma'am?"

    I looked at Chris with a concerned look. Play it cool, I said to myself. Talk slowly, don't rush the story. Sound concerned and upset.

    "Yes Officer."

    "Can you tell me why?"

    "I've started doing evening runs everyday except Sundays," I started slowly. Chris gave my shoulder a quick squeeze. "Friday and yesterday, Saturday, I took my runs earlier so I could come home and watch movies while my mom was out."

    "If I might ask, where was you mother ma'am?"

    "Um... Friday she had a book club meeting from about 6-9. They meet Fridays at the members houses, a different one this week." That was all true so far.

    "And yesterday ma'am?"

    "She had a dinner date with a man named David. They've been dating for awhile now."

    "Can you recount you events leading up to when you arrived at the school and you returned home?"

    "Um, yeah. I left school at 3:30 and biked home. I got back at around 3:45 and got ready for my run. I left at 4:00 and went running for about half an hour before heading to the school like normal. I hit the school a little around 4:45. The bell rang then and the band kids left. I left at around 4:50 and got home a 5:40."

    Most everything was true, except I had not gone on a run. I was just repeating my route on Friday. The officer gave me a strange look and I struggled to keep my cool.

    "Almost a two hour run?"

    I shrugged. "My mom seems to think I need to get in shape. I do walking and even strength sometimes at the parks." I spoke calmly and controlled.

    "I see. Sir, what about you?"

    Chris gave a small smile. "Ask whoever you want, I was at a rock concert with some guys."

    The officer scribbled furiously. "Thanks for your time. I'll get back to you if we have more questions."

    He walked off and we wandered a bit before finding a nearby bench to watch the crowd from. Chris slipped his arm around my waist and I put my head on his shoulder.

    "It's really too bad. I mean, I'm sorry that it happened- it shouldn't have. But I wasn't close to Jade so I can't really say much about her..." Chris said sadly.

    "I know what you mean." I said this but didn't mean it. I didn't know what I meant. Looking back on the killing, I hadn't felt anything. No remorse, sadness or even sympathy. Just satisfaction.

    I battled with my emotions and thoughts as I watched the crowd. Chris stayed with his head on mine lost in thought as well, staring vaguely at the crowd.

    Why did I feel satisfaction? I had no motive to kill her. Well, except for that small factor of her friendship with Claire. I hated Claire. It was a long running joke that Chris had his eyes on her but he denied it constantly. Too constantly. Claire was sweet, beautiful and smart. To the guys at least. Most girls found themselves face to face with a witch.

    Claire Magdin, the most popular girl in school. Wore other girls' reputations flat. Flirted with the boys, and had dated half of them. I never understood her nor wanted to. I stayed clear. But that last couple of weeks she's been looking for a fight.

    My father had come back from London, where he lives now after leaving my mom and I in New York. We moved so my mom could be closer to Hollywood- where she worked. When he came back, he was a different man from when he left. Before he had been very strict on my school work but still allowed time for friends, as long as I would be loyal to them. He had a bad experience with friends, after his close friend abandon him in an Iraq war zone when he was younger. It cost my father his eye and part of his shoulder.

    After the accident, he wanted to take in Chris as a godchild. My mom would have none of it, and the fight went on for days. I stayed as far away as possible, waking up one morning finding my father gone and a note explain nothing but that he had to leave.

    I waited seven years for him. He came back a month ago. No explanation, no apologies, just "Hey, I'm back!" He wasn't as strict, much more caring and nicer. Instead of staying with us, he took a room in a nearby hotel. Because, you know, there's not enough room in our two-story five bedroom house.

    The kids at school, mostly Claire's Clique or the CC as they like to be known, teased me about my father. His accent, his missing period of time, not staying with the family- everything. The "Forgetful Father" and the "Despised Daughter" we're just some names made up about his absence.

    I reacted badly to Claire shoving me in the halls after I told her to shut up and go away. Dropping my bag, I pivoted and grabbed her shoulders pushing her against the wall. She gasped and struggled to escape to no avail. I was strong, trained by my father's friend after he left.

    While pinning Claire to the wall I threatened her to leave me alone or I'd make this more personal. It was then Jade found it necessary to slap me in the face. Claire preceded to kick me in the shins but missed horrible as I had let go and gone after Jade. It was Chris who stepped between us, his hand lingering longer than it should have on my arm. He had caught my right hand in the air mid-blow and had stopped Jade from advancing with a short shove of his hand. I had shook his hand off, collected my bag and walked away leaving Jade and Claire smugly standing there. I later heard Chris had a talk with Claire and had told her to back off, but as usual he said he hadn't.

    It was for this reason I thought I had killed Jade. But I couldn't be sure. The idea just formed in my mind. Like a tiny devil telling me who to kill. But it still couldn't explain my lack of emotion towards the kill. I decided to do more reading when I got home to answer my burning question. I was sure there was nothing wrong. I had emotions toward everything else. I couldn't understand.

    Continuing to question my emotions, Chris brought me to the present with a quick squeeze.

    "They're opening the crime scene to the crowd. I guess to see if anything jolts our memory." His soft, comforting voice whispered off, remembering the memory from the fight last week.

    I took his hand and pulled Chris up. We walked toward the crowd.

    Blood pounded in my ears as we drew closer. I gave a sad smile to Chris but I was feeling anything but sad. I wanted to relive the death of Jade Helm.
  17. Sorry about Jade's last name. Didn't notice but autocorrect changed in it Chapter 2. Should be 'Helm' not 'Hilly'
  18. Here you go, sorry for delay. Open to ideas or characters if you have any. Next one should be out soon.

    Chapter 4

    "Alright, listen up everyone. We are letting groups of five in to look if you want. There is a roped of area, stay there and observe. If anything jogs your memory and you have something to help the case, speak up. Other than that- don't touch anything. Find a group and line up," an officer yelled from atop a stand.

    I turned to Chris. "I have to go in there."

    "No you don't KC, not if you don't want to." I really wanted to go in but I played it out a bit more. I hated acting to Chris though, but it was my only option.

    "I was here that night. If what they say is true, I was here minutes before she was killed. It could have been me instead of Jade. I need to see if there's anything different from when I was here last. I don't want to but it's what I have to do." I paused for a moment. "For the family if not Jade."

    It was the last statement that got him. He walked over to a couple people and brought them over.

    "They'll join us. Band musicians I know."

    I nodded. I did too. They were there on the blacktop before Jade was killed. Thinking back, something hit me and I fought to control my panic. I tried to casually feel my pocket, and swore silently to myself.

    I still had Jack's phone from the night of the murder. Glancing around, I saw Jack nearby. I couldn't give it back now, it was too early still to give the police a suspect. It was Jack's phone I took because of a love affair he had with Jade a few days ago at a night party. However, if I kept it the text could be traced to me.

    I gave Chris' arm a little tap and gestured vaguely towards the gym. He nodded and engaged our friends in conversation.

    As I walked away, I past the blacktop gutter. I turned my back to the crowd, pretending I drop something nearby. With the phone in my left hand, I squatted using the gutter to balance. The phone hung precariously above the gutter and my right hand searched the ground. I went to stand dropping the phone as I did so. I heard a small splash then walked to the gym.

    When I returned from the restrooms, Chris and my friends were lined up near the locker room. I hurried over, smiling at the three friends with us: James, Michael and Sophia. All band students, James and Michael were twins with identical curly black hair, tanned skin and brown eyes. Sophia was a sweet girl, a friend but we weren't close. She was Italian, with dirty blonde hair, fair skin and pale eyes.

    I was about the ask her about Jade and the murder when Chris poked me. Poking him back, I followed him as he entered the locker room. As we passed the door, I noticed it was covered in plastic wrap, preserving the word I had carved.

    We walked to our roped off corner and I observed the room. Blood stained the floor and I realized that the drain was clogged. The blood had pooled and dried on the tile. It was definitely not a sight for weak stomachs. The bench was soaked in blood, its original pale blue mostly dark now. I could see where the knives had entered the bench through Jade, leaving small marks in the wood.

    Sophia was overcome with shock and had to leave, the boys just stood still with grimaces on their faces. I gripped Chris' arm, my heart throbbing faster as I felt the murder replay in flashes through my mind. Coving my mouth, I struggled to stay calm.

    Everything came back in rushes. My eyes ran over the bench. Jade struggling for her life as she bled out. The shower. Jade crying as I prepared my mind for the kill. The sprinklers. Water rinsing Jade of her blood onto the floor. The blood. Dripping slowly to the floor, ever present from the wounds. Me, standing there throwing the knife into her heart flooded my brain again and I breathed deeply closing my eyes. I saw myself gathering my things and carving into the door before taking on last look at Jade. I quickly opened my eyes. The murder scene was back to after the kill.

    Adrenaline was rushing through me from the images and I fought to contain it. I felt the rush from deep inside and it surprised me. I hadn't felt like this before. It seemed to claw at me from inside and I tried to find where it was coming from. Like a demon inside me, happy with what I had done. I shook it off, uncomfortable with the feeling.

    Chris finally pulled me outside after a few moments. We walked back outside and he checked his watch.

    "It's 11 KC. What would you like-" He was cut short with a shout from across the blacktop. We looked and saw the press arriving with Jade's parents.

    The police had managed to keep most of the press at bay, letting a few in to film the students and the memorial they were giving. But now, many more flooded in: journalists, news crews, the newspapers, bloggers. They were all following Jade's parents as they walked towards the locker rooms.

    Jade's mother was crying and holding her husband's arm tightly as they walked. She was determined to see where her daughter had died. Her husband was trying to keep a straight face for his wife, trying very hard to not cry.

    As I watched them, arm in arm, two sadden parents over the loss of their daughter and was startled as the beast inside me purred.
  19. Here you go, sorry for so late. Spent awhile working on this. I'm thinking of making a Feedback/Idea/Update thread, I'll see. Feedback is always welcome on my wall too. If there's really bad grammar somewhere, do tell. But please ignore small mistakes. As always, enjoy!!

    Chapter Five

    Everyone turned to watch as the mourning parents came forward. The press was attempting to talk to them, but the police held them at bay. A couple of teachers joined in, who I hadn’t noticed previously. Looking around, I tried to spot who else I had missed. The principal caught my eye striding across towards the Helms’.

    Chris walked a few feet away to get a better look and I came over to join him after a moment. He gave me a quick glance but kept looking around, straining his neck to see over the crowd.

    “Shawn’s here,” Chris said after a few seconds. “Can’t see much else, let’s go closer.”

    “Jade’s stepbrother?” I questioned as we moved closer.

    “Nope, adopted brother. C’mon.” He led the way to a gap in the crowd about twenty feet away.

    I grabbed his hand before he disappeared, and he gave me a startled look as I gently squeezed it. With a small soft smile, he pulled me in after him and we vanished into the sea of people cramming to get a look at the parents.

    As we go closer, I saw Shawn. A very sweet child, he was about ten. He looked nothing like Jade, with her blonde hair and green eyes like both her parents. The rest of the family had soft, pale skin that was prone to sunburns. Shawn had dark tanned skin with his dusty brown hair. I had met him before and he was always someone a little shy and fragile but the one thing that always brought a smile to his face was his sister. His eyes always lit up in a smile when he saw her.

    But now she was gone. As he walked by, his head was lowered and his hood was pulled up over his face. A reporter had found a break in the line of policemen barricade and had pushed through to Shawn, who was lagging behind his parents. She rushed up to him and started to ask him questions. I couldn’t hear them, no one could over the noise of the crowd but I saw the reporter nod as he apparently answered. A policeman caught sight of the exchange and pulled her back from the boy.

    “Ma’am, I’m going to need to ask you to step away from the boy please!” he shouted over the crowd as he pushed bystanders back before moving back to her again.

    More people had arrived and by now there was maybe about a hundred or so people at the school. I was watching Shawn, the reporter and policeman as they talked. I saw Shawn shake his head multiple times at the policeman and the reporter’s smile widen. He looked up at the man, his face still angled away from me. He gave one last furious shake of his head before stalking away past his parents. He was headed to the stand near the locker room with the microphone hooked up. His mother tried grabbing his arm but he brushed past her. As he reached the stand and angrily clicked the microphone on, a loud, high pitched signal resonated from the speakers. It lasted for a second before vanishing. Shawn’s head was still lowered as you could hear his breathing through the speakers.

    He flipped his hood off and raised his head. I first noticed his eyes. They were angry. Not sad like his parents, but angry. Their dark brown color was intensified by his attitude. Everyone had gone silent and was watching him. A few reporters tried to ask him questions but he waved them off.

    “No, no. Stop. Just listen,” he commanded. “Everyone! Listen!” He was shouting now, with no reason to; he already had everyone’s complete attention. “My sister… took me in. I was teased, bullied, and picked on because I’m adopted. Jade helps… helped,” he said correcting himself. “She helped me through all of that. And for that, I loved her with all my heart. Now, some monster,” he spat, “has taken her from me forever. I will never, ever forgive or forget this person. They will burn in my mind before I can find them and…. make them pay for what they have done.”

    Tears of anger started to run down his face. “I don’t care how long I look, I will find them. Whoever they are. I want them to know what they’ve taken from me, because I don’t believe they know. She was a friend, a mentor, a sister, an all around wonderful person. She was who I loved with all my heart.

    “When I find her killer I will… Tear them apart with my own hands, and…” He was overcome with grief once more and the tears flowed more freely. His mother had watched, tears also still streaming down her face. The father was still as a mountain, showing almost no reaction to his son. But as he heard Shawn’s latest words, he took Shawn down off the stand and wrapped him in a hug. Shawn stopped his rant and just cried into his father’s arms.

    Everyone had stood in silence as Shawn had spoke; the reporters now rushing forward to bombard Shawn with questions. His father looked up and stopped half of them in their tracks. I recalled he was an ex-war veteran and his glance was terrifying.

    The police were now urging people to leave the family in peace and thanking everyone for coming and honoring Jade. Chris and I dispersed from the crowd and met up outside of the sea of people. His face was sad and his gentle eyes had a solemn look. I gave him a lopsided, gloomy smile.

    “That was sad.” I nodded in agreement, recalling the speech to myself.

    “Hey…” I said, in a smooth transition to the next phase of my day. “There’s a soppy romance movie just come out and since it’s not expected to get great views, Boss has given everyone free tickets.”

    I worked at one of the four movie theaters in town. It offered a part-time job experience for middle and high school students, also giving them college and honor roll credit for working. Mostly you volunteered but sometimes, if you were really good, they promoted you and even paid you. I was lucky and was one of those people. I earned fifteen bucks an hour and worked Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday for 3 hours. Wasn’t great, but was better than working for nothing.

    Boss, as we called him, gave some of us free tickets to a movie depending on our performance. Since about ten of us from my grade worked there, we became good friends and went to the movies together often. I’ve been bringing Chris along to some of them that he’d like, but most of us workers are girls and there’s some stuff that us girls like to see on our own and discuss on our own while we make popcorn, if you get my drift.

    But it was here I had planned my next killing, of the innocent Teresa Rowns. Plans had been laid earlier this week and everything was ready for the 12 o’clock showing of Time of Demons, a horror movie out this week. But I had plans to see My Sweet Sixteen with Chris, at 1 o’clock.

    I looked at him sideways and waited. He shook his head with a funny smile on his face.

    “Is this a… date, perhaps, Kerri?” he asked.

    “Depends what you make of it,” I said swinging his hands back and forth, and looked at his shoes. Looking up, he had a smile on his face as he looked at me.

    Then yes, I’ll go with you.”

    My smile widened. “Just the two of us. I promise.”

    “It better be.”

    “Excuse me.” A voice boomed from the speakers again. Everyone turned and looked. A portly man was slouching on the stand. “I wanted to thank you all for coming out, and before everyone leaves, I just want to say a few words about Jade. I promise I’ll be quick if everyone just hangs around for a moment to honor a lost member of our community.”

    People started to filter back and soon a sizable crowd had grown.

    “Hang around for this?” Chris asked.

    “Sure,” I said. “It’ll be fast.”
    We joined the crowd and listen to the man speak.

    “Jade, as you know was an eighth grader here at Samantha Grey Middle School, in California. She was the first chair flutist in the band and was a “B” straight student in all of her classes. A popular friend and musician, she will be sorely missed by many. She was friendly, kind, smart, young and funny, bring happiness where she went.

    “Born on January 14, she would have been fifteen this year. She was born in New York and moved to California at the age of 5. Adapting quickly, she made many friends and fit in right away. Her parents, Jessica and Peter will miss her tremendously but I think we all can agree no one will miss her more than her adopted brother, Shawn. I repeat again, she will be missed by many. And as a community, I believe we can honor her in the proper way and help find the person who so cruelly and inhumanly took her life away, torturing her through her last moments. Thank you all for paying your respects.” He stepped down.

    Chris and I left to the movie theater shortly after, passing a few words to our friends first.

    My mind raced. Cruel, inhuman. A monster the boy had called me. The beast inside me rumbled at the words and a fierce fire started to burn in my gut. As we walked, it started to feel the killing coming on. It sparked, and the passion grew. A block from the theater, it erupted. I felt an evil conscience eating at me, ready for the kill. Entering the theater, I smiled at Chris. He smiled back; little did he know it wasn’t for him.