LOGINThe Sinners a gang of dangerous men that do dangerous things, to the outside world they're just a motorcycle gang. But they are much more and the one that leads them goes by the name Carnage. I didn't always know him as that though. I didn't know who he was at all. I just knew him as the one that I felt , the one I knew was always close by. I don't know why he chose me. I don't know how I peaked his interest but once I had , there was no escape.
View MoreAn engine revs and my pulse spikes instantly , he's here. He hasn’t always made himself known. But now he was growing bolder , he was making sure I knew he was back. I slowly place my pen down from where I was hunched over my desk working on my assignment. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a shiver runs through my body. I lick my suddenly dry lips and exhale a shaky breath.
I could have moved my desk weeks ago , months ago even when I first started seeing him. At first a shadow that made me think I was seeing things then the shadow would stand longer to make sure I saw him. He would come closer to make sure his movement caught my eye. I started to thank him in my own mind for finally showing himself , at least I knew now I wasn’t crazy. No I wasn’t but I did have a stalker and I had yet to report that I had , maybe I was crazy. One day I hadn’t heard his bike but when I had looked up from my work I had seen him sitting on his bike with his helmet still on as he watched me through the window. Before he just used to stand in the shadow , bike helmet on but no bike could be seen. Like I said he was getting bolder. Maybe because I had yet to report him. The reason why I hadn’t bewildered me , because I had no reason. His presence scared me , sure. My heart always pounds and I start to sweat , my breathing changes and my brain shouts at me to run , yet I still haven’t. Why ? Maybe it was because he had yet to make a move to come towards me. He never stepped any closer , never made a move to enter my home. He just stood across the street or now he sat on his bike across the street. I did often wonder what I would do if he did though ? Recently it was like he signalled he was here out of impatience , he wanted me to look up from my desk. I could get lost for hours in my work. Sometimes my work had me trapped for days without a thought of the outside world creeping in. I could start in the daylight and not look around again until the moon was high in the sky. He wanted to see my face though , that I had now worked out. For what purpose I was still unsure. Besides him watching me he does nothing else. He occasionally tilts his helmeted head to one side as if studying me , once he has a look at my face for a few minutes he usually leaves. It makes me wonder about the times he didn’t come on his bike how long he had waited for before I lifted my face to the window. Lifting my head , my blurry eyes from focusing on the words and numbers in front of me slowly start to clear and he comes into focus. He’s not sitting straddling his bike tonight he's climbed off , but he is leaning back on it. His arms crossed over his chest , he dosen;t have his leather jacket on tonight. Instead his arms are on show , his hands covered in black gloves and a skin tight black t-shirt clings to his frame. His legs are crossed at the ankles, his legs are clad in what look like black jeans and then his signature thick black bike boots on his feet. I look back up to his covered face and his head tilts slightly to the left. My heart pounds as sweat breaks out on my skin. But again I don’t pick up my phone or run away. Instead I slowly stand and when I do his head goes back up straight. This was new for me , I would usually stay seated while he watched me. But I had promised I would find out what he wanted , I wouldn't go out there but after the last time he left I had grabbed some plain paper and a thick black marker pen and quickly scribbled out some signs. This had been happening now for nearly four months and it was now I had only just found the confidence to make some sort of contact. I move around my desk and reach for the paper signs that had been sitting there for the past two nights , he didn't come every night. His pattern of coming wasn't one I could follow either. Some weeks he showed up every night, others maybe only once or twice. I looked down at my shaky fingers and at the top sign. It asked the most obvious question. “ What do you want ? “ I lifted it to the glass , my breathing coming out fast at what I was doing. Survival 101 would not be to interact with a man that watches you from outside of your window. But here I was , doing just that, instead of what most logical people would do. I watched to see his reaction , but he didn’t move, didn't react, he just stood there. I don’t know what I expected from doing this. For him to suddenly rip his element off and start talking to me ? Or maybe to see if that's all it took for him to break the cycle and actually come after me ? When he made no movement , I took the first sign off and pressed the second one to the glass. “ Who are you ? “ I held my breath and waited , but again nothing. No movement. So I tried my last sign , the one that made my hands shake as I wrote it out. The one that I nearly ripped up did I want to know the answer to this one ? “ Are you going to hurt me ? “ I looked away when I first put the sign to the window , I looked down at my feet chickening out. But I scolded myself , I couldn’t ask then not see his answer. So , I took a few calming breaths and slowly I looked up. He was back on his bike straddling it , but he was still looking up at me. Or at the sign maybe I had slapped on the glass. I watched in horror as he nodded , just two subtle bobs of his head. I took a step back, gasping. The sign floated away from the window and hitting the floor. His engine started and he revved it. Then he left. He sped off down the street like he always does , like someone was chasing him.The walls were turning a deep crimson , they looked to be melting. But the room felt cold , so how could the walls melt? I could see my breath as I breathed out. I felt strapped down and I couldn't move. I moved my head and looked down at my body but nothing was holding me down. I just couldn’t move. I looked around and my eyes caught a mirrored ceiling above me and I screamed , I screamed until my lungs burned. Yet the body that laid still in the reflection didn’t move. Their body wasn’t my own, it was my mothers. She stared blankly up at the mirrors not moving an inch. I glance around again and the walls aren’t melting I realise and the crimson was blood dripping down them. Suddenly I bolt up in bed sweating and panting. I panicky looked around the room and I was in my own room. The walls were a warm beige no longer crimson. I was no longer strapped down by something invisible. I was sitting up with the blankets pooled around my waist as my bare chest rises and falls trying to br
I opened the case , just like David said it landed in my inbox at 5pm sharp. I read my freelance contract first and frown at the pay for this. It was triple what I get a month for the station. No doubt David’s doing. He was dangling the carrot in front of me. He was saying “ Look what you could have “. I had also had an email from my Captain while I was out. He has asked me to transfer all work and notes on the current case I was working on to Joshua, he was in the same job as me. But I hated to say it , he wasn’t as thorough as I was. He didn’t scale every detail like I would. I had helped solve more cases than he has , yet he had been in the job a year longer than I had. I hated this , I had been working on this case for over a month. It had consumed so much of my life already and now I had to just pass it off because David had to stick his nose in my business.The case I had been doing for the station was a murder between two rival drug gangs. I was tasked to pull out all the conn
Walking down the aisle , I randomly pick up items of food without even really paying attention. My mind was once again too occupied. I wonder if people looking at me see just someone that looks like a walking zombie ? I randomly wonder. My mind was too focused on the conversation with my dad. I sometimes wonder if maybe it was him that planted in my mind that I should study for the job I have and he used my mother as his ammunition. The reason I wonder is because I don’t actually know when I decided to go down this route. Growing up I did dance , ballet , gymnastics, ballroom you name it , it was my passion. And I was invested all my childhood. I had been determined, because when I was dancing. When my body moved like it was possessed and like it knew what it was doing without me gaving to think. I felt free and alive. I was happy. I had friends , I had fun and I had a dream. I wanted to be on a stage , a grand one , one where all eyes were on me and they were mesmerized. I wanted to
My name is Elodie , I am 21 and I am the youngest forensic documentation examiner ever known in the police department I work in. My job requires my attention non-stop pretty much. When I am not working and doing something mundane like food shopping my mind will still be on the current case I was working on. I finished at the top of every class and I worked my butt off to get this job. My main job now was to prove to all the more experienced officers and detectives in my department that I actually deserve and can do this job and that my observations and notes on the case file were valid. It was only made possible that my professor wrote a recommendation for any employer to ignore my age and trust my judgment and knowledge. He stated he had never seen anyone like me before and that I suppressed people he had known in the field for many years on my skill to pick out even the smallest thing that can be a massive clue , things that go missed or ignored and seen as insignificant. It was b






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