Paul's POV:
The scorpion in its stealth-ness rose inside me, coursing through every vein till it settled in my lungs, choking me of every good breath and left me with only the furious flames burning deep inside my heart. My throat hitched from the burning desire. Flashes of her face-my daily nightmares. I stared into her eyes, Rebecca, her skinny dark hair, the only dark-haired I ever loved.
"Rebecca," I pressed my hand tight against her neck, further the crushing every bone refraining me from stripping her lungs of every oxygen left inside. Her fingers dug into me, crashing off the first layer of my skin, bleeding-reminding me of the pain I felt that day."yes, peel my skin off just the way you did my heart, you Nasty creature."I continued pounding deep into her, choked and licked her till her gasps and struggles halted. Her hands slowly sliding into thin air.
Andre's POV:I stood behind the chairs, watching the pastor minster, Fenwick unlike most cities held the ceremonies after the deceased was buried. Today, I wore my favourite black suit, the Knight of the night, I called it. Truthfully, I never knew why I loved it. Maybe it was the mixture of inner red and the shiny black. I stood picturing myself staring into the mirror, finally, she died, maybe I was relieved of the stress of watching out for her, but again, if she was murdered, then my stalker definitely had her eyes on me now. Why are you so convinced she is the killer? Didn't she say someone broke into your house when she was tired? My head began memories fixing, coupling each memory with its pair while I focused on letting the tears cloud my eyes.“Let's give the loved one the opportunity to speak of their loss—Mister Andre?” The pastor beckoned on me.
Hi Andre, I’m sorry but I have to go. This is for both of us, and I know how cliche that sounds. I am even stupid thinking you will waste your time reading this but I will have to send it since I already typed them.Remember how I told you I am a lawyer? Yes, your late-night screams and nightmares haunting through the night and day. I decided to dig further and before you say I invaded, I know I did, but I did it so we can have a future.Yes, I found your demons, the death of all your exes and as much as I hate for that to happen to me, I have to find out about you, I sent a copy to you already.I get it now, the insecurity about your childhood and the secrecy about your life. I understand. As a boy, you had an acci
Jones POV: It was just five minutes to the end of our, I and Kara's, shift. No lies, she still had the same command she always did on me. I couldn't really place why she could manipulate my mood with just the way she twitched her head or the way she curled her lips. She would tease me till the end of work each day, only to continue the next day. She is quite a resource. An indispensable detective, first by me. Ninety percent of cases we walked separately on were cracked at great speed but together, our head was halfway out of the game.I tipped my phone, tossing it as my anxiousness whirled up inside me. I recalculated my plans again. It first started as a manhunt, the hatred piled up all those years wanting to unleash themselves in all the cruel means I had picked along the line. My work had brought me closer to psychopaths, one of which is the poetic killer. His works were the beauty of art and blood stained to
The wind was thick and cursing. The sun blazing hot as blaring sound of sirens and chaos filled the air. Reporters gathered around the crime scene with their microphones and operation vans alongside police vehicles driving in and out. The place he once called home, now a scene for strangers and reporters.“We are gathered here at the crime scene of more than one death as...”“It is no new news that our young ladies have been dying, with the help of certain detectives, the criminal was discovered unfortunately he fled before he could be apprehended.”“you are staring at the home of Mister Andre Green, in other words, the crime scene for numeric deaths.”Andre slowly escaped from the crowd
Andre stood in front of the wooden door, ringing the doorbell for the fifth time. His heart raced as the million and one thoughts bombarded him. He only hoped she would open the door, she would be alive after all these years. But that was the least of his troubles.The door creaked and a young beautiful lady stood in front of him, too young to ever be Miss Barton. Her eyes pierced into him with a harsh stern as she spoke,"quién eres tú 'Who are you?' " Something about her rode the man in him. Maybe it was the strong Spanish accent that followed her voice when she speaks or the brownness of her eyes piercing into him."Hi..." He struggled to speak. He gulped, clearing the blockage that prevented him from speaking clearly but it was quickly replaced with another. His eyes trailed down her brown skin, automatically halted on her cleavage almost clearly visible except for the thin white fabric s
“Come here, Paul,” her tony voice would have deceived anyone into believing she wouldn't hurt a puppy but Paul knew better, he knew all the darkness that hid behind her sweet touches. Sad to say, he grew too familiar with them and feeding his demons the darkness, it only grew. He only wanted more of her, more of her tender-wickedness. She pulled him close to herself, letting is tiny lips close to hers. “Go on, tell me you want me,” she kissed his lip just enough to get a reaction from him. He had played this game thousand times over, even in his head, he has refused to let her win, but she always did. Miss Barton, the beautiful young Mistress of young Paul, but the best caretaker as the world perceived.Jones shook his head, letting the memories pass. He steadied the car wheel, scanning the road to make for certain he hadn't missed his
Knock! knock! Christy heard the soft pounding on her me door which pulled her back from her thoughts.She had stared into oblivion so long she lost sight of what troubled her, only that she had more than enough to keep her in such position.She turned the knob of the door,“Delivery for Miss Christiana,” Andre stood there holding a television with both hands. She stood jaw-dropped, staring at him dressed almost completely as a delivery man.“Sshh... We need to talk,” he forced himself inside. he dropped the object on the table, he closed rushed to the windows, took a peek outside before dropping the curtain for each one of them.He stopped to calm the rising tension inside him. He took a deep breath, turned towards her, almost as calm as he could possibly be.“Where we in love?” as awkward as it had sounded coming fr
Andre stood in front of the what was supposed to be Miss Barton's house but now ashes. He stepped on its debris, trying to figure out what he had no idea of.Pow! Pow!The sound of a gun fired at him. He dived to the ground, covering both ears as Maria walked towards him.“pedazo de mierda, mataste a mi madre (you piece of shit, you killed my mother),” she spat.“What, what are you saying,” Andre pleaded, still facing the ground.“You killed my mother asshole,” she screamed, pulling out the empty cartridge again.“No, no, no, I didn't,” he screamed, turning to face her this time.“I didn't know she was dead. I came to ask about this man,” he said, pulling out a picture from his top pocket.She let took the picture, paying close attention to it as the imag