Dead At the Scene

“Another local teenager has turned up dead,” the female news anchor said solemnly, the corners of her mouth currently weighted down in apathetic sympathy, so to speak. Her frown was forced, obvious that it was required by the rules of the local news channel. “The body of Jonathan Steward, eighteen years of age, was found mutilated, down at the Gordon Mills Warehouse on the banks of the river. Police are still investigating, although it is believed that the Huntington Ripper has struck again.” Her make-up covered eyes didn’t quite match her sad face. Her emotionless eyes stared out from the screen, flat, dull and lifeless. This was just another tragedy.

I sighed, and turned off the television. Standing up, I walked out of the living room and towards the front door. Looking in the mirror, my reflection stared back at me, two pairs of the same piercing green eyes searching each other for answers that were buried deep inside. Moonlight, which was cast down through the large bay window, shone around me, shifting in my dark house. I smoothed my black hair down, and watched my lean face transform into a perfected smirk, which caused my snakebites to shine in the dim light of the hall. Turning from the mirror, I slipped on my checkered vans, and walked out the door. I turned down the street, the dark night devouring me in the shadows.

Although I should have known it had been a mistake, I walked north, towards the old deserted warehouses on the banks of the river. After the Huntington Ripper would victimize someone, their bodies would turn up at the empty buildings, raped and mutilated.

The wind rushed through the trees. The branches shifted and sighed in the massive oaks lining the empty road, filling the tense silence. The sounds of animals in the forest was nearly non-existent, except for the frequent whooo whooo of a nocturnal owl.

My feet took me towards the warehouses by pure instinct, my mind travelling faster than the speed of light. And that’s when it hit me- Literally.

The sound of air being pushed aside as a dense object descended echoed in my ears as a heavy object slammed into my head from behind, with enough force to knock me to the ground. Head spinning, I tried to sit up, only to have a kick delivered to my ribs. A dark figure loomed above me, with a piece of cloth swinging in his hand, swaying in the gentle breeze. I groaned, reaching for my head. My fingers ran through something wet and sticky. I shuddered violently as my vision started to blur, and then faded to a shimmering, luminescent gray. I vaguely saw the person kneel down, and pull me to a sitting position. I felt something being tied around my mouth, like a gag. Panicking, I thrashed around, my hand coming in contact with something solid. There was a dull oomph!, and then a hand reached out and clasped my throat, causing my air supply to cease. Eventually, the world around me faded, and then turned black completely.