In the center of the shop, surrounded by burnt out candles, lay the body of another victim.

Well, a soon-to-be victim.

She’s perfect, too.  Young and vibrant.  So much life to give, and she’s going to give it to me.

She doesn’t hear the chime of the bell above the door as I enter.  The smells of vanilla and lavender assault my nostrils and loud, hypnotic music plays over the speakers of the mom-...

In the center of the shop, surrounded by burnt out candles, lay the body of another victim. But I don’t like the word “victim.”

I should say, “In the center of the shop, surrounded by burnt out candles, lay the remains of a piece of shit who did the world a favor by leaving it.”

There is a story to tell, but I must start at the beginning. I need to explain that I’m not like other girls. I don’t...

An overwhelming barrage of white noise penetrated her ears, companion to a high pitched tone slowly escalating in volume. Her hands, she found, were already over her ears as she tried to escape the unrelenting tumult, her eyes screwed tightly shut to reduce the stimulation, her body curled in on itself. But it was all inside her head. Her fingers curved in, scratching at her scalp and pulling her ...

The stench of blood overwhelms Raven—not that she isn’t used to the way blood reeks, but rather the sounds of the victim’s body cracking and her screams fading, filling the air with a gory echo. She forces herself to look away, not daring to watch. Raven never gets used to the victims' last breaths; the light leaving their eyes.

“Now,” Father Harris stands, tearing Raven’s attention away from the...

The pounding in my head painfully knocked me awake. It pulsed through me violently, punching at my temples and chewing at my palms. It wrenched me from a dreamless sleep, prying my eyelids awake and surging my body forward.

And then the pain vanished, replaced suddenly by a seemingly endless flood of blinding light.

"Sonya?" A familiar voice rang around me.

As my eyes adjusted to their surrou...

The night before we were wrongfully imprisoned, we had sliced our palms and fell asleep holding each other’s hands tight, promising to reunite at the tattoo parlor on the corner of 11th and 3rd street. Five years later, finally a free woman once again, there I stood.

On that crowded street, with its high buildings and the city’s signature scent of piss, memories flooded back to me. I welcomed th...

TW: Murder, violence, slight sexual content, .

———

The musty scent of dust fills the abandoned tire shop as I lead him inside, my fingers brushing lightly against his. We cross the threshold and he slams the door behind us, stopping to push me against the wall for a passionate kiss. His anticipation is almost tangible as he gropes at me. I play my part well. And just like every other man, he eats ...

In the center of the shop, surrounded by burnt out candles, lay the body of another victim.

I just give the murderer a glare.

“Why won’t you kill me yet?” I ask him, attempting a polite smile as my hands jerk behind my back. _Stupid rope._

He steps closer, bending over until his face is level to me. “I like knowing all about a victim and their life before I take it,” he murmurs.

_I hate this c...

It was a crime. Actually, I wasn’t sure if “crime” was the right word or if the victims were indeed “victims” or simply the consequences of the unseen judicial system that Amanda defined to be “forces and entities from other dimensions operating beyond our normal perception.” Nevertheless, wether the crime was justified or not, that early morning I froze in bed, sank deeper into my sheets, and c...

When it was finished, the girl watched the body until he left—the man that had done it. She did not know what to do other than stare, completely prettified at the lifeless figure in the middle of candles. The flames had mysteriously flickered out after that man was done chanting in some other, weird language. What little Britney Bayward was doing there so late at night, she would later regret. It ...