Murder Mystery

CHAPTER 1

He was trembling with anticipation. Calm down, he told himself sternly, he couldn’t botch this. It had to go perfectly. It had been disconcertingly easy to learn her schedule. Routine was dangerous; it was deceiving. It made people miss things, made them think they were safe. He was out in the open, and she didn’t even notice. Stepping forward quickly --too quickly-- he made his presence known.

She had pulled out her keys and begun to unlock her door, now she turned and screamed frightened by his sudden appearance, and then laughed at her own fear, “Owen, it’s you. What are you doing here?” She stepped closer.

Oh, how long he had waited for this and now his prey was walking to him. He took a deep breath, taking in the moment. Clenching and unclenching his right hand around the knife, he suppressed the laughter welling up inside him, but he couldn’t stop the maniacal grin. It was going to end here, he had let her live long enough.

Natalie hesitated, and noticed that the man in front of her was heavily clothed in black, hands gloved, his breathing was fast and and his eyes... she froze in fear.

Losing both his patience and hold on his self control, he struck and with all his might, unable to hold back a cry of fierce anger.

Natalie didn’t have a chance to scream.


~~~

Less than an hour later a young woman in her early twenties, stepped up to the door and rang the doorbell. In the cold she shifted from foot to foot and impatiently pulled out her cell phone, checking the time.

Nothing.
She knocked and eventually rang the bell again.
Again, nothing.

Practically hopping up and down to keep out the cold she dialed in a number and to her surprise heard the ring come from a nearby alley. She followed the sound, until she found the body.

“Oh, no.” Horror filled the young woman as she bent, examining the body. There was little left to examine. Her hands moved expertly, clearly trained. Blood was everywhere. She gasped unable to think, and walked away to clear her head of the strong scent of iron and the nausea that threatened to overcome her. Once she had taken several deep breaths she moved back to the scene. Trying to ignore the blood she looked for the cause of death, a second glance at the corpse told her that the woman had literally drowned in her own blood. It has been slow. A slash at the throat had caused the trachea and both arteries to open, it was the first cut in the sequence of many. She could see the claw marks at the throat and the dirt and skin under her nails. The woman had scratched at her throat desperately trying to get air when the only thing filling her lungs was blood.  

“This is horrible.” Unable to believe what her eyes interpreted. She was shaking uncontrollably now, she sat back against the wall and pulled her legs in. A small plop, brought the realization that she was crying. Wiping furiously at her tears she steeled herself to continue what she had started.

The rest of the body had been mutilated, cut again and again, bruised and crushed in some places. The body was still warm and blood was still pooling about her, so she had died recently. Very recently. A chill of dread filled her and she quickly cast around for the murderer, he probably wasn't far away...

“Why did it have to be so slow, so... ?” She swallowed and left the sentence hanging, flinching away from the thoughts that it had formed. Struggling to keep her trembling body and tears under control, she gently probed the body. She noticed a tattoo on the dead woman’s shoulder and bent to examine it. The tattoo was in the shape of a R with a scorpion twisted around it. Thorns and black greenery branched away from it. At the sight of it, she sucked in a breath through her teeth, making the air hiss as it passed the barrier.

The young woman stood and took a shuddering breath. She was about to pull out her cell phone when she noticed that her hands had inevitably been covered in blood from the proximity to the body. They shook slightly but she refused to break down again. She couldn’t, not now. Pulling out her phone, she dialed, she’d have to wash the blood off later. She glanced at the body and turned her back on it for a moment, trying to detach herself from it. Empathy may be considered a good characteristic, but at that moment she didn’t want to live through death.

A female voice pulled her from her thoughts. “This is 911, what is your emergency?”

The young woman let out a long breath, out of fear or exasperation, it was hard to tell. Carefully and as explicitly as she could, she explained the situation and waited for the police.