- Okay so just figured I'd put this. So the story isn't about a plastic surgeon, it's referring to the killer. It'll make sense later anyway. - So I don't really know about this. I haven't been on much, and the new forum layout is kinda weird. I'm not sure if it'll show up in active topics or not though so that's why I included 'story' in the title. This had just been lying around in notes for a while so figured meh, might as well try something. So I think this is going to be a murder mystery, but instead of a detective it'll be her friends' POV later. Anyway. •••• The New Plastic Surgeon. Tick. Tock. Tick- . . The dull yet therapeutic sound of the clock played like a broken record in the background, the repetitive sound unnerving in the late hour. . . The girl lay motionless, protected only by a thin duvet slung over her petite body and mattress. Her eyes were wide open, an icy blue in a blanket of darkness, and were staring up at the ceiling with clear uneasiness. . . She looked to be fourteen. Perhaps fifteen or sixteen, but not much older. Her face was illuminated only by the silvery moonlight seeping under a frail curtain above her makeshift bed, but it showed her features were still soft and smooth. It was obvious that she was young. . . Her gaze was transfixed to the low hanging ceiling, almost too afraid to look around the rest of the room. Tension surrounded - suffocated - her, as if it were a living thing. . . She was being watched, and she knew it. . . Earlier that night, a note had slipped under her bedroom door. It was blank on one side of lined paper, and only after she had nearly fallen asleep did she think to look at the other side. . . It wasn't unusual, of course. She lived in a over populated flat block and there were always, usually slightly weird, strangers pestering her at crazy hours. She wasn't afraid then. Not until later. . . An eye however had been scrawled across the paper in thin green ink. . . At first she had ignored it despite feeling a little spooked, but as the night progressed and sleep resisted her fear began to grow. And she began to notice things. . . The quiet yet audible click, the rustle of a wrapper, an accidental footstep, and an eerie whistle every now and again. . . With her parents away, the girl was home alone. . . Her pale blue eyes widened more as a low whistle pierced the night for the third time that night. It seemed as though it was getting closer. . . The girl sat up in her bed now with increasing urgency, pressing her back against the wall behind her and raking a hand anxiously through her thick blonde locks. Goosebumps pricked her skin, and she trembled slightly as she heard footsteps and the familiar whistling outside her bedroom door. . . It had to be some kind of sick joke, right? Any minute now the annoying kid from downstairs would jump in shouting "boo!"... Right? . . The whistle suddenly fell silent; an unwelcome silence now lingering. . .Hoping whatever was out there would be scared of by noise, her mouth dropped open but before she could scream the door slipped open and a bullet flew into her temple. •••• . . A weary sigh slipped out of his lips as he examined the body before him. "Messy," he said simply, his body recoiling as he stepped away from the crimson coated sheets. "Nearly clean," he said with another sigh, but his relaxed body showed he was at ease. Because killing a teenage girl is a totally ordinary thing to do. . . A dry chuckle escape his mouth as his bony hands gently pried open the girls hand. A smirk curved onto his lips at the sight of two crossed fingers. . . He wondered for a moment why she thought that would help, but with a shrug of his broad shoulders he continued with his task. He was unfazed by the room and body, which gave him an inhuman-like air. . . The man carefully pulled on a pair of doctors gloves before revealing a thread and stitches from his suitcase. Once again a smirk played on his lips, a cackle filling the night air. . . "Goodnight dear." Tick. Tock. Tick- •••• Sorry, it's pretty odd but I have no idea to be honest where I'm going with this. xD But oh well aha. Feedback would be pretty good: ways to improve and stuff. I apologise for any tense mistakes and for any future ones, I suck at tenses.
I like it! Although no surprise given who it's coming from. Glad to see you posting another story =].
Omfg yay. Thanks people! ^.^ I've wrote the next part but it's pretty boring, so like at the end of each part-thingy I'll show part of the killer's view sort off thing. But I kinda need help because I'm English and my geography skills suck. xD What're the names of a few like, American cities and an American village/town?
Other than the final part I don't really like this update, so I'll do a mini update later with the killer in. :3 •••• . . . Lily sat at her desk, her misty coloured eyes narrowed in concentration as they scanned the newspaper before her. It was from 2 days ago, and American the small print showed, just like the other 6 newspapers piled up on her desk. . . .Lily was English. . . .She crossed her legs and leaned back in the wooden chair, drumming her slim fingers onto the desk top. Despite the situation, a small smile tugged on her lips as her red painted finger tips traced the grooves on the desk. . . .'I <3 MCR.' . . .She'd forgotten about that, but thankfully neither of her parents had noticed: They'd been too pre occupied. She used to be what you could call a 'fangirl', but after her brother had died she had been distracted. Still, that was a year ago. She'd grown out of her 'scratching-on-whatever- because-Lily-was-here' phase, much to the relief of basically everyone around her. . . .Drawing back into reality, the girl reached across and flicked her lamp on. Yellow light pored into the room, casting faded shadows onto the poster-coated walls. Her attention drifted back to the news paper, and a wince slipped across her features as she re read the headline, which was similar to the headline on the other 6 news papers. . . ."Fifteen year old schoolgirl found dead on bedroom floor." . . .She bit down hard on her lower lip to hold back a gag as she saw the picture below. Blood glistened on her lips yet she refused to allow her teeth to move. . . .In the black box below showed a girl, roughly around her own age. Her clothes and skin looked perfectly ordinary. No blood, healthy caramel skin; she could have been any ordinary girl posing for a picture... If it weren't for her face. . . .Looking closer, you could see immediately something was wrong. Where her eyes should have been were two hollow black circles, her nostrils were sown shut and her mouth, worst of all, was sown painfully shut with red thread. . . .Lily's eyes widened, a shiver running down her spine. This was a local newspaper, from near where the girl had died. It had taken a lot of hassle to get hold of it, but it was a lot more informative and truthful than the more known newspapers. . . .Apart from the girl now no longer wanted information. She felt surreal, and nervous despite not being the victim herself. . . .The victim had been called Milly, and lived and all too familiar American village. . . .Her pen pal had been called Milly, and lived in that very village. . . .The appearances matched too. . . .Lily had originally heard on the news online, but after recognising the name of the small village her curiosity grew and she began to research more. She now wished she hadn't. . . .Her optimism had gradually sunk away, and now only a terrified girl remained. She knew it had taken place far away and that it didn't involve her, but she couldn't help feeling slightly self-conscious and afraid. . . ."It doesn't even concern me. Why do I when care," Lily mumbled to herself. Not out of anger or confusion, but out of fear. . . .Still, it was hard to ignore discovering your friend had been found dead, and the murderer was still on the loose and had struck twice again. Yep, that's what the newspaper resting below her feet had confirmed. . . .Her eyes leaked slightly as she thought back to the picture, and she clenched her jaw. Deciding to distract herself and try not to think too much about it - she had already dealt with the loss of her brother and wasn't keen to let more negative emotions to be expressed - she pushed aside the news paper and after fumbling around in her pockets for a while she emerged with a scratched iPhone. . . .A few minutes later the girl was examining her newsfeed when something caught her eye. She froze, motionless, as her breathing sped. Down the side of the refreshed blue page, it showed who was online. . . .Milly Adams is online, it showed. . . .Milly Adams is also plastered across Lily's desk. Dead. . . .Feeling slightly shaky, moments later Lily regained her composure and furrowed her eyebrows together. Maybe Milly's parents were checking the account? Lily could only hope it was that. . . .After a while however, she began to grow annoyed. What if someone had hacked Milly's account, she thought. That would be disgusting. . . .Feeling angry, her fingers found her way to the all to familiar name and she punched in a short abrupt message. . . .Lily Jade Andrew: Who are you? . . .She stayed silent for a while, tapping her Converse shoe on the carpeted floor impatiently. Finally, after what felt like hours but could only have been minutes, her phone vibrated. . . .Milly Adams: Hello, I'm Milly's brother. I'm just checking her account for clues as to what happened. You don't happen to know anything? . . .Lily let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. Of course, it was just Millys' family trying to figure out what had happened. She was getting worked up for no reason. Feeling a lot more at ease, she typed in a quick reply confirming that she didn't know what had happened before her mother had called up saying it was "Dinner time!" . . .Yawning, she rubbed her eyes after reading the small print from the newspapers for so long and made her way downstairs. . . .It was only later that night when she was curled up reading a book downstairs did she realise something. Milly had said a few times she had a mother, father, and older sister. . . .Not once did she mention a brother. ••••
Thanks. Sorry, I'll try and update later. School's been taking up loads of time. I may just leave this for a while, and continue it in 2 weeks in the holidays though.
So I have no idea what to write so this is just a bit about his first kill. Don't worry, despite the start which is slightly misleading there's no romance involved. I'm not going to lie though, this part does kinda suck. I'm stuck for what to write though, and I got distracted partway through writing by skittles. xD •••• The path ahead was illuminated only by the fading yellow light from a headlamp in the distance, which was steadily growing further and further away. You were beginning to feel uncomfortable, but you didn't dare to let on. You continued to walk, well more like trudge, through the light snow, your palm entwined with the figure next to you. That was also part of the reason you had felt uncomfortable. He'd asked you out earlier that day. You should have felt excited, but it was hard too. You would have rather have said no, but your squealing friends caused you to roll your eyes and reluctantly say yes to the older boy. So now you were here, sneaking out of your warm home and telling your family you were doing homework just to be trailing in the freezing cold, unnerved by the darkness slightly. It was hardly like you had a choice though, he'd practically begged you through text. You clicked your tongue impatiently, removing your hand from your coat pocket to brush a strand of brown hair from your face. It quickly returned to your pocket, goosebumps now pricking your pale skin. You walked for a little longer, before coming to a pause. You'd only just entered the forest, but the trees looked like they stretched on forever either way and you could barely see in the dark. Your legs had begun to ache from the continuous walking and to say you were awake was an exaggeration. Your eyelids drooped a little. You squinted your eyes and turned to face the taller boy opposite you, trying not to let an annoyed scowl appear across your features. Choosing your words carefully, you began to talk through gritted teeth as you stared at his partially covered face. "Look, we've been walking for hours. Where are we going? And you've barely spoken the entire time. Look, I have to go back before my parents find out I'm gone," you said stubbornly. At first you were frustrated, but then you couldn't help growing slightly nervous as his grip on your hand tightened and made a red patch spread along your wrist. You studied his face but it was the same as before, maybe even slightly more harsh. His expression remained emotionless and his icy blue eyes seemed colder than ever. "L-let go!" You exclaimed, panic clear in your own expression. Everything seems more scary in the dark. You stumbled backwards, regretting wearing huge clumsy boots, yet he never resisted with his iron grip. You tried to yank your arm back, but the distraction only caused you to stumble backwards over a tree stump. The boy however was also surprised, and his grip lessened for a moment. You noticed after a few seconds, and pulled your arm back before leaping up and running into the trees. You didn't know where you were going or what you were doing. You prayed people would look for you, but how would anyone even know where you had been when they assumed you were tucked away at home, finishing your homework like an ordinary student? You began to sprint faster, ignoring the dull ache in your legs. You had to get away. Thorns somehow got past the protection of your jeans and scratches and cuts marked your legs. You ignored then and continued to run. You knew he was after you. It didn't take that long to recover and you'd heard his footsteps earlier. You didn't dare to look back though, you refused to acknowledge his existence. When you'd fallen over, you'd noticed the shiny blade strapped to his ankle, peaking out over his sock. It was only as you were running for your life did you notice something was off about him. He hadn't said a word, and he was dressed up in winter gear so much that you could barely recognise him. You had just assumed it was him. You regretted that now and were to say the least extremely confused, but hey, there exactly time to be thinking everything through. You continued to blindly run through the forest, stumbling around in the blanket of darkness. It was no use. You had no energy left, and you could barely run now. The figure in the darkness looked closer, and you looked down in resignation. •••• It was reported in the newspaper you were missing for 7 days. It was only when Vic, the boy who had originally asked you out, found his phone lying in the grass outside the school grounds did he see the sent messages and alert the police. They didn't catch the killer, but they did find you. You were stabbed in the eyes, nose, mouth, and heart. Despite being dead prior, you were also swinging from the highest tree branch. You were his first, y'know. His first kill. Do you feel special? I'm jealous. The rope you hung from was the same colour as his icy blue eyes. You were an experiment, in a way. Did you know he was right behind you the whole time you were running away? He stopped to let you rest for moments; he could have killed you at any minute but he didn't. You showed defiance and I suppose that sparked his interest. Still, all games must have a winner and a loser and that really wasn't your lucky day. Why would you be different? You're just like the rest of them. You think he didn't see you laugh that day in the street? Poor girl, but who's really to blame here? This is like a riddle, isn't it? Hehe. My dear, please excuse me but I really can't resist. It's been so long since I've seen such a pretty little face, and I'm sure you'll look great in my collection. It really isn't your lucky day, is it? •••• So I don't know about this, but this part is important and it will be involved in future parts. It was also easier to write because it was in 2nd person I found, and I know it's not great but I haven't really had time to write/motivation aha. I don't entirely know what the ending is. It's partly irrelevant, but it was fun to right and the collection of faces part has to do with the way the killer things.
It's kind off boring but I need some parts like this so that the story like, goes together ahah. •••• The room was lit only by the weak light from the digital clock perched on top of Lily's bedside cabinet, giving the room a shallow red glow. '11:58 pm.' Lily however, showed no sight of tiredness. She sat up in bed, her upper back supported by a pair of pure white pillows. Her knees were raised, but hidden behind a sky blue duvet. She'd pulled the duvet halfway up her figure, yet the pyjama top she was wearing confirmed both sleeves were rolled up and a bead of sweat glistened on her forehead. It's odd how we think that small things that would be useless will protect ourselves from our fears. Her auburn hair was matted, and slightly raised at the top. Out of habit when she was anxious, Lily's hand had been raked through it at least a dozen times. If that didn't show her uneasiness, the jumpiness at every creak or noise heard showed her fear. They were usual nighttime noise of course, but when you're nervous your imagination seems to almost grow. Was that creak below the radiator... Or is someone in the house? Was the scratching downstairs just her cat... Or is there something more sinister trapped in the kitchen? Was that clatter outside just the sound of some kind of animal... Or was it someone breaking into the house? Lily shuddered. She knew she was acting slightly unreasonable, but as she thought back to the earlier events it was clear she was allowed to be. But still. The killer was last seen in California; he probably didn't even knew that the English girl existed. Biting down on her lower lip, she couldn't help feeling uneasy though. Her gaze briefly flitted towards the digital clock againg, a wince crossing her features. '12:04 am. She still didn't feel tired. Lily tossed and turned for the following few minutes, but soon gave up and returned to the position she had been in before. Realising she couldn't sleep at all whilst her stomach was filled with elephants - butterflies are nice and pretty and this definitely wasn't a 'nice' or 'pretty' feeling - she thought back to the earlier events, hoping if she made some sense of it all she'd realise she was just being silly. It started a few days ago, when Lily heard about the news of a death in the area of her online best friend. Feeling curious and slightly confused at the recent lack of response in messages from Milly, the girl decided to find out more. That then lead to the evening that very night, when Lilly had been researching about the death. She found nothing much, just that the killer had in record time already harmed another two girls. And that Milly had been murdered. Later that evening however, Lily saw on Facebook that Milly was supposedly 'online'. Curiosity got the better of her and she sent a message asking who it was. She got a response soon following saying that it was Milly's brother. She had been satisfied with that response until she remembered later that night that Milly had said she never had a brother. "Well, that makes sense," Lily mumbled sarcastically after recalling the events, running her fingertips through strands of long hair. Her voice was low, careful as too not wake her parents in the room beside her own. The time slowly progressed, leaving Lily to lie there uncomfortably. For the third time that night her gaze glanced over at the glowing object. '02:37 am.' Lily blinked twice, feeling bewildered and nervous. She wanted to know what was going on, but at the same time she was too scared to try and find out. As another minute passed Lily swallowed, realising there was no way she could sleep with the suspense, and reluctantly removed the comfort of her duvet. She gingerly stepped down onto the carpet in the darkness and tiptoed across with urgency, grabbing her laptop from her desk before hurrying back over to her bed and fumbling around until she was under the duvet. She scratched her neck sheepishly at her childishness, but she she couldn't help wishing slightly that she had remembered to fix the lamp in her room. Her room was like an ocean of darkness; she refused to drown in it however. Soon enough a light filled the room, coming from the red laptop propped against Lily's knees. She fiddled around with it for a while, until it was eventually logged on. She cast a cautious glance at her door, but she knew there was little need to be worried considered she could even hear her parents snore through the thick poster covered walls. They would have killed her if they knew she was on her laptop at this time, but it was obvious they wouldn't be waking up any time soon. A small smirk tugged on her lips. The girl almost wanted to be yelled at, then maybe she'd feel more normal again. Sighing, she logged onto Facebook, her eyes then glued to the brightly lit screen. As soon it was logged on, she went straight to the online box. Because of the hour, apparently only '4' people were on. Tentatively she clicked the box, a feeling of dread soon filling her stomach. She'd known in a way that the name would be there. 'Milly Adams is online.' She felt afraid, yet the sleep deprivation made her frustrated and her curiousness had only grew. She clicked on the name, and then a few buttons on her keyboard. Lily Jade Andrew: Hello. Any luck on finding out about what happened to Milly?=/ Lily pressed send, playing along as if she didn't know. But she did know. Her breathing unknowingly fastened slightly, her index finger lingering over the keyboard as she waited for a new message to appear. And surely enough, soon it did. Milly Adams: no. I'll tell you if I hear anything, sorry. But thanks for asking. Lolz Lily arched an eyebrow, rereading the message. It didn't seem like a very natural response... Almost like an adult trying to act like a teenager. She frowned and took a deep breath before responding; Lily Jade Andrew: [/i]Mhm. Can I ask you something? I'm just wondering...[/i] •••• So I had an idea for this and it might not be who you think it's going to be.