Status: don't hate me...
Inconclusion.
Matthew
Matthew Charles Sanders was the first on Annabelle's list for many reasons. One particularly being he was their leader; more than just the groups lead singer. He initiated everything, calling all the shots and instructing what needed to be done. But why did they have to choose her that one dreadful night. It was hard enough that she was alone, but to have five grown men take her in turns was enough to break a young mind. And that's exactly what had happened.
She was the quiet girl. The girl that sat in the back of the classroom. The one that was picked on for the huge glasses she had to wear in order to see. Kids could be cruel. But what people never knew was behind those glasses was a true monster waiting to be unleashed. The nightmares she endured, the memories that rolled through her head. She became hell bent on causing pain instead of receiving. After all, that's what make a serial killer; tragedy to ones life will fuck them up beyond comprehension.
She woke from a dead sleep, her chest heaving as a slight sheen of sweat covered the length of her body. Her hands were shaking as she slipped from the confines of her black sheets, only to land on the floor with a solid thud. "He's at a party tonight, Annie dear. He'll be alone. Vulnerable. Weak." The anger inside her manifested into what she would assume to be some kind of Schizophrenia after that night. She could still remember the pain radiating through her lower half of her body, the tears that were shed as she begged and pleaded to be set free. "Slit his throat. Make him beg before he chokes on his own blood. Make him feel that pain." The voice rang through, making Annabelle get to her feet shakily.
He wouldn't recognize her. No one ever recognized her. It was perfect set up for her first crime. She just had to get into the house unnoticed, which she was sure wouldn't be that difficult. She was a ghost to these people, a nobody, insignificant. But they would remember her name.
The slim one piece hung on her tightly as she ran a brush through her long, amber hair. Her eyes were dull, almost lifeless, like she had nothing left in her, but that was a façade to put the other off, just so she could get close enough. If she seemed as helpless as she put off to be, she would have Matthew wrapped around her finger in a matter of minutes. She smeared red lipstick to her thin lips, standing up from her vanity to walk to the front door of her flat. Tonight was the night that lead to destruction.
The music was loud, loud enough to where she could barely hear anyone's voice. She kept to herself mostly, her eyes scanning the growing crowd in the house until she saw..Him. Her face twisted in disgust and hate until he turned his eyes on her, which in return, she looked at him with wide eyes, blushing for emphasis just to get him closer like she planned. Of course he would catch on quickly, making his way to her with that look of pure want. By the time he made it to her, she slipped from him quickly to walk up the spiralling staircase of the house. She looked over her shoulder, only to see him sauntering after her, licking his lips like an animal as he kept his eyes glued to her backside. Her plan was working perfectly. All she needed to do was get him in a room alone where she could strike. But it seemed like others were planning differently.
"Shadz, man! You gotta check this shit out." She turned around to see her target had set his sights on a sultry blond that was basically stripping out of her second skin to get attention. She couldn't believe this was happening, right when she was so close. But then again, where's there's boobs, there goes a man flight pattern. Huffing to herself, Annabelle descended the stairs rather quickly, pushing past a large group to get to the front door. She'd have to plan for a whole different scenario. The voice in her head would just have to calm down.
*I've died a thousand times, drowned in a sea of lies, Walked every path, through every door.
Oh, how I've suffered through, the wicked men can do. But pain they can't ignore, the things I have in store*
She paced the length of her living room. listening to the rain as it beat down against the roof, thunder rolling as lighting flashed. She chewed her pinky nail down until it was pretty much gone. Dropping her hand, she slipped her shoes on, pulling her hoodie over her head and tucking a large, hunting knife into the side of her waist band of her jeans.
She saw how his environment was at night, she can only imagine what it was during the day. And considering the evident storm, he would be out cold on his four poster bed, or drinking his money away.
The rain beat down on her head as she walked through the grass, her feet sloshing within her sneakers as she made the small treck to the house of her first victim. Creeping to the back door, she heard growling behind her, which made her all but scared. The dog, Bella, didin't see the large knife until she dug it up through his bottom jaw. She was quick to twist her arm, snapping the dogs neck so there wasn't any noise to startle the man that lived inside. She cocked her head at her handy work, nodding her head in approval as she proceeded to the back door. To her evident surprise, the damn thing was unlocked. Surely a man with money and fame would have invested in alarms of some sort, or at least locked his fucking door.
She crept into the house, looking around the large kitchen for anything that could show her out in case she needed a quick getaway. She wouldn't use the same place she walked in as an exit, that would be too sloppy. She snapped her head up, hearing a loud pounding coming from upstairs. "So that's why he never locked his doors.." She whispered to herself, becoming disgusted all over again. He was probably upstairs fucking some girl who wasn't in her right mind. That was always the case. Always.
Downstairs was dark, enough darkness to surround her to make her seem invisible. She went up the stairs two at a time, saving her time and energy, using the toes of her feet to leave very little evidence. Couldn't get caught when she had four more, now could she? Ahead of her was a silhouette of an open door, light streaming through as she heard the thumping growing louder, moans greeting her ears as she got closer. It made her sick. Looking down at the floor, she watched her steps, flicking her eyes to her feet then to the door. She had to make this perfect. so fucking perfect.
It was like a needle drop, the door to the bedroom swung open, revealing a much relieved Matt in all his naked glory. Annabelle had taken the opportunity to hide in the hallway closet, keeping her eye out to make sure he didn't see her. So far, he hadn't noticed a thing, nor did he notice the petite blond walking from his bedroom to go downstairs. She didn't need a witness, but she had a list, she didn't need another body. She set her sights on Matt as he walked from the bathroom and proceeded back to his bedroom. Slipping from the closet, Annabelle rushed to the bedroom, just as the light went off. This was just right, just the right setting. Thunder rolled again, followed by a clap of lighting which illuminated the room, and in that instant, she saw the fright in his eyes upon seeing her at the foot of his bed.
"Va-" He went to scream, hoping his wife would be able to hear him, but Annabelle clearly had other plans. She had the blade out and pressed to his throat, directly over the adams apple, "I wouldn't do that if I were you." She hissed, pressing the blade into his skin a little harder.
"W-whatever you n-need, I can give you. M-money? Y-yeah I got a ton of it..Ju-just name it and you can have it. Just. please put the fucking knife down.." He was begging her, his hands trembling by his sides. He didn't know this girl, did he?
"I want my life back, you son of a bitch." she spoke harshly, pushing his chin up with the blade, "You took everything from me." She said a little shakily. It was the thrill of what was to happen next and yet she couldn't find it in herself to do it. 'Just fucking do it already, the bitch is down the hallway and if you don't slit his throat now, you'll be someone’s bitch in prison. you want that?" The voice in her head yelled at her. She felt her heart race as she heard the other females feet padding down the hallway, Matt's constant begging as she pressed the blade to his throat.
And in that split moment, before the door could open, Annabelle was gone. Right before Matt's eyes, the crazed woman was gone. The lighting flashed again, and he still found nothing. His wife came to sit beside him, asking his if he was alright, and with a small nod, he replied with a yes. They lied there, under the covers. They didn't see Annabelle walk from the closet, not did they cry out in their sleep once she buried the blade of her knife into their chests. She took time on Matthew though, her blade cutting him from ear to ear.
She walked from the house, cold and bloody. She walked into her apartment, kicking her shoes off as she walked towards her bedroom. She stepped up to the large canvas of photos she had on her wall. With a bloodied finger she ran it over Matt's face, crossing him off her list for good. She looked to her list, closing her eyes at the name : Brian.
She was the quiet girl. The girl that sat in the back of the classroom. The one that was picked on for the huge glasses she had to wear in order to see. Kids could be cruel. But what people never knew was behind those glasses was a true monster waiting to be unleashed. The nightmares she endured, the memories that rolled through her head. She became hell bent on causing pain instead of receiving. After all, that's what make a serial killer; tragedy to ones life will fuck them up beyond comprehension.
She woke from a dead sleep, her chest heaving as a slight sheen of sweat covered the length of her body. Her hands were shaking as she slipped from the confines of her black sheets, only to land on the floor with a solid thud. "He's at a party tonight, Annie dear. He'll be alone. Vulnerable. Weak." The anger inside her manifested into what she would assume to be some kind of Schizophrenia after that night. She could still remember the pain radiating through her lower half of her body, the tears that were shed as she begged and pleaded to be set free. "Slit his throat. Make him beg before he chokes on his own blood. Make him feel that pain." The voice rang through, making Annabelle get to her feet shakily.
He wouldn't recognize her. No one ever recognized her. It was perfect set up for her first crime. She just had to get into the house unnoticed, which she was sure wouldn't be that difficult. She was a ghost to these people, a nobody, insignificant. But they would remember her name.
The slim one piece hung on her tightly as she ran a brush through her long, amber hair. Her eyes were dull, almost lifeless, like she had nothing left in her, but that was a façade to put the other off, just so she could get close enough. If she seemed as helpless as she put off to be, she would have Matthew wrapped around her finger in a matter of minutes. She smeared red lipstick to her thin lips, standing up from her vanity to walk to the front door of her flat. Tonight was the night that lead to destruction.
The music was loud, loud enough to where she could barely hear anyone's voice. She kept to herself mostly, her eyes scanning the growing crowd in the house until she saw..Him. Her face twisted in disgust and hate until he turned his eyes on her, which in return, she looked at him with wide eyes, blushing for emphasis just to get him closer like she planned. Of course he would catch on quickly, making his way to her with that look of pure want. By the time he made it to her, she slipped from him quickly to walk up the spiralling staircase of the house. She looked over her shoulder, only to see him sauntering after her, licking his lips like an animal as he kept his eyes glued to her backside. Her plan was working perfectly. All she needed to do was get him in a room alone where she could strike. But it seemed like others were planning differently.
"Shadz, man! You gotta check this shit out." She turned around to see her target had set his sights on a sultry blond that was basically stripping out of her second skin to get attention. She couldn't believe this was happening, right when she was so close. But then again, where's there's boobs, there goes a man flight pattern. Huffing to herself, Annabelle descended the stairs rather quickly, pushing past a large group to get to the front door. She'd have to plan for a whole different scenario. The voice in her head would just have to calm down.
*I've died a thousand times, drowned in a sea of lies, Walked every path, through every door.
Oh, how I've suffered through, the wicked men can do. But pain they can't ignore, the things I have in store*
She paced the length of her living room. listening to the rain as it beat down against the roof, thunder rolling as lighting flashed. She chewed her pinky nail down until it was pretty much gone. Dropping her hand, she slipped her shoes on, pulling her hoodie over her head and tucking a large, hunting knife into the side of her waist band of her jeans.
She saw how his environment was at night, she can only imagine what it was during the day. And considering the evident storm, he would be out cold on his four poster bed, or drinking his money away.
The rain beat down on her head as she walked through the grass, her feet sloshing within her sneakers as she made the small treck to the house of her first victim. Creeping to the back door, she heard growling behind her, which made her all but scared. The dog, Bella, didin't see the large knife until she dug it up through his bottom jaw. She was quick to twist her arm, snapping the dogs neck so there wasn't any noise to startle the man that lived inside. She cocked her head at her handy work, nodding her head in approval as she proceeded to the back door. To her evident surprise, the damn thing was unlocked. Surely a man with money and fame would have invested in alarms of some sort, or at least locked his fucking door.
She crept into the house, looking around the large kitchen for anything that could show her out in case she needed a quick getaway. She wouldn't use the same place she walked in as an exit, that would be too sloppy. She snapped her head up, hearing a loud pounding coming from upstairs. "So that's why he never locked his doors.." She whispered to herself, becoming disgusted all over again. He was probably upstairs fucking some girl who wasn't in her right mind. That was always the case. Always.
Downstairs was dark, enough darkness to surround her to make her seem invisible. She went up the stairs two at a time, saving her time and energy, using the toes of her feet to leave very little evidence. Couldn't get caught when she had four more, now could she? Ahead of her was a silhouette of an open door, light streaming through as she heard the thumping growing louder, moans greeting her ears as she got closer. It made her sick. Looking down at the floor, she watched her steps, flicking her eyes to her feet then to the door. She had to make this perfect. so fucking perfect.
It was like a needle drop, the door to the bedroom swung open, revealing a much relieved Matt in all his naked glory. Annabelle had taken the opportunity to hide in the hallway closet, keeping her eye out to make sure he didn't see her. So far, he hadn't noticed a thing, nor did he notice the petite blond walking from his bedroom to go downstairs. She didn't need a witness, but she had a list, she didn't need another body. She set her sights on Matt as he walked from the bathroom and proceeded back to his bedroom. Slipping from the closet, Annabelle rushed to the bedroom, just as the light went off. This was just right, just the right setting. Thunder rolled again, followed by a clap of lighting which illuminated the room, and in that instant, she saw the fright in his eyes upon seeing her at the foot of his bed.
"Va-" He went to scream, hoping his wife would be able to hear him, but Annabelle clearly had other plans. She had the blade out and pressed to his throat, directly over the adams apple, "I wouldn't do that if I were you." She hissed, pressing the blade into his skin a little harder.
"W-whatever you n-need, I can give you. M-money? Y-yeah I got a ton of it..Ju-just name it and you can have it. Just. please put the fucking knife down.." He was begging her, his hands trembling by his sides. He didn't know this girl, did he?
"I want my life back, you son of a bitch." she spoke harshly, pushing his chin up with the blade, "You took everything from me." She said a little shakily. It was the thrill of what was to happen next and yet she couldn't find it in herself to do it. 'Just fucking do it already, the bitch is down the hallway and if you don't slit his throat now, you'll be someone’s bitch in prison. you want that?" The voice in her head yelled at her. She felt her heart race as she heard the other females feet padding down the hallway, Matt's constant begging as she pressed the blade to his throat.
And in that split moment, before the door could open, Annabelle was gone. Right before Matt's eyes, the crazed woman was gone. The lighting flashed again, and he still found nothing. His wife came to sit beside him, asking his if he was alright, and with a small nod, he replied with a yes. They lied there, under the covers. They didn't see Annabelle walk from the closet, not did they cry out in their sleep once she buried the blade of her knife into their chests. She took time on Matthew though, her blade cutting him from ear to ear.
She walked from the house, cold and bloody. She walked into her apartment, kicking her shoes off as she walked towards her bedroom. She stepped up to the large canvas of photos she had on her wall. With a bloodied finger she ran it over Matt's face, crossing him off her list for good. She looked to her list, closing her eyes at the name : Brian.