As the grandfather clock struck 12 Suzy glanced up to the yellow shimmering moon. Rain splattered against the skylight torrentially. 3,000 more words to go. Suzy grasped her blood red pen tightly, squeezed her deep grey eyes shut, willing for the inspiration to grow. She waited, and waited, waiting for the moment, and then… Nothing. Her eyes flickered slowly open, to find her coal black table lamp simply turning on, then off. On. Off. On. Off. To the rhythm of her thumping heart. Then, a scream, a blood curtailing women’s scream, but it was like the scream was from inside her own head.

Harsh morning rays shone into the 17 year olds eyes, she thought back to the previous night, the rain, the light, the scream… There it was again! The very same scream! From the very depth of her soul…

The heavy door creaked to a close, Suzy stared into the apartment with a mask of horror, and just a glimmer of, amusement. Inside-out… the once cream cushions of the sofa were now a deep burgundy. They had been turned inside-out… Suzy breathed a rapid broken breath as she turned to face the kitchen. Illuminated by the frosted morning light, Suzy could see her kitchen in tatters. Pans, everywhere. Salt and pepper poured, everywhere. The cupboards, every single cupboard and drawer had been flung open. Her appetite had been replaced by anxiety. She grabbed her smoky channel bag, shoved in the essay of which her heart and soul had been poured. Once again the scream echoed in Suzy’s brain. Now she knew something was strange. She locked the door and darted as quick as she could away from her flat, her heels clicking as she ran, her blonde hair whirling behind her. Then she heard it again but this time it was for real… A scream sounded… From her very apartment…

Rain started to fall, mixing with Suzy’s tears of fear. But those tears could not compare with the tears that were falling from her heart. Her breath caught in her throat as she gulped for air… She reached the crusty stairwell of her apartment, the light flickered then, died. Stumbling blindly up the stairs Suzy cracked her shin, blood trickled to her ankle. When suddenly a scream, the scream, sounded from Suzy’s apartment. Then nothing. But drip, drip of blood falling to the wooden floor. Her breath echoed in the hallway, she dialled slowly… 999…

‘Ms Suzy Knightdale (17) was found dead in her apartment yesterday evening by police, Ms Knightdale had phoned the police 20 minutes earlier when she heard screaming coming from her apartment. Ms Knightdale was a student of the Nicolas Hampstead College of Writing in London. Her apartment was found in an unsightly condition, but nothing appeared to have been stolen. Ms Knightdale had had her throat slit, and with her blood had been written ‘I believe’ on the walls of her apartment. This event is being treated as highly suspicious, seeing as an identical fate had been suffered by another female student of the Hampstead College on Wednesday, Ms Lily Johnston. Nether of the girls parents have been available for comment.’

Sweeping her midnight black fringe from her crystal blue eyes, Lauren glanced at her sleeping room mate, dead to the world. Lauren looked into the mirror deeply, her reflection stared blankly back. Those once beautiful, soulful eyes that glimmered with life, now empty, misted over in a fog of fear, anger and depression. Two best friends, two beautiful best friends were both dead. In just two days. It wasn’t possible… And even now, at three am, Lauren was fearing the morning, two murders, two friends, two days. Wednesday Lily. Thursday Suzy. Friday… Today… Who will it be if anyone… Moonlight glared through the bleak white curtains. Tears began to trickle down her olive skinned cheek…

Katie dragged the door slowly open, even through the minute gap she had created she could see the kitchen… With the cupboards flung open. Katie feared what she would find in the darkness on the other side of the door…

Katie heaved as she dialled the police, everywhere she went she just couldn’t get the grotesque image of her room mates body out of her head. Lauren, poor beautiful Lauren… How was it possible? What demented twisted mind could do this? The door bell echoed around the silent flat. To reach the door, Katie would have to do what she had been putting off all morning, and walk past Lauren’s slaughtered corpse. As she tiptoed past, Katie noticed something about Laurens body, she looked totally relax, at ease. If it weren’t for the blood pouring from her sliced arteries to the floor, she would of look as though she was sleeping…

‘And tonight on BBC1 the 6o’clock news. We’ve received a update on the story we told you about earlier today. The story of the murder of another female student of the Nicolas Hampstead College of Writing in London. Theo Patterson has more on this story…’
‘Thank you Susan. Yes, another murder. Three girls, in three days. Ms Lily Johnston, Ms Suzy Knightdale and Ms Lauren Carters. The girls were known as being close friends. Lily was discovered by her landlord Christian Slater, Suzy was discovered by PC James Smith, she had rang the police 20 minutes earlier after hearing screaming from her apartment. Then Lauren’s body was discovered this morning by her room mate Katie Stone. She is also not being held by police but is being treated for shock with Mr Slater. Police at this time have no current witnesses, but are asking for any information that the public may have.
‘If anyone saw someone entering or exiting one of the girls flats please contact your nearest police station, this is very serious. If the killer is not caught who knows what they may do next’

Then deep from all three girls’ apartments, a evil giggle rang out… and it continued long into the night…

*