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The Cryptic Killer
A man in the shadows of an empty street waited. “Why aren’t there any victims today?” he muttered, “I need to make God happy... H-H-He demands a sacrifice e-every full moon…” and just as he said that, he saw a teenage girl, walking down the street. She wore a red dress and high heels that clicked with every step. She continued down the street, past the man concealed in the shadows and stopped abruptly as she heard a sound behind her. “What was that?” she said aloud and turned around just in time to see an object being slammed into her face. There was a loud crack and she fell onto the pavement, unconscious. The man dragged her several feet before throwing her into the trunk of his car. He slammed the trunk close and looked around franticly to make sure no one saw what he had just done. No one did. He slowly walked to the door of his car, got in, and started the engine. The engine sputtered before it started and in a matter of seconds, the man had driven down the dark street.
The young girl’s eyes shot open and she panicked as she recalled the events that happened to her earlier. “Hello?! Where am I? Is anyone there?!” she yelled, hoping to get an answer. There was no response. Stay calm, Torra, she thought to herself as she looked around the dark room. She tried to sit up and immediately saw that she couldn’t lift herself up more than an inch. Her whole body was numb but she struggled anyway until she realized that her arms were bound to her back and her legs were tied down to what appeared to be a strange altar. The floor around the altar was matted in a dry substance that was shaded a dark red. The sight of the floor caused Torra to shiver as she was peering over the edge of the altar. “I hope that’s paint....” she said to herself, sounding very disturbed. The room was dimly lit and smelled of a strange odor; the odor of something rotting…
Torra’s head throbbed from what ever had hit her in the head earlier. “What should I do…?” she asked herself, wincing at the pain the throbbing caused. The throbbing subsided along with the pain as Torra glanced to her right, seeing a stained glass window above a door frame. The light that was passing through the glass was distorted into various different colors and the window was cracked in several places. Through this eerie and damaged glass, Torra could see the full moon and several stars shining in the clear night sky. Under the stained glass, a shadow moved. Torra yelled, “Who’s there?!” The shadow gave a maniacal laugh.
“Shush, my dear girl.” The shadow said, using a strange seductive tone.
“Screw you!” Torra yelled, disliking the tone the man was using on her.
“Shhh… I must commence the ceremony. He… He grows thirsty for you…”
“W-What..? Who? Let me go you psycho!” Torra yelled, losing her temper.
That was all Torra could manage to say before the shadow lit a single candle on the floor with a match. The lit candle caused a chain reaction, lighting several other candles and making the room bright but eerie as the light from the flames flickered. The new lighting revealed what was on the walls of the room. It made Torra gasp. The walls were lined with strange devices that looked like they were built for torture, and blood stained the walls in several areas. Torra slowly turned her head towards the man, now aware of the strange threat she was facing. She looked up and into her captor’s face which was now illuminated, revealing several strange symbols painted in red on his cheeks and a mask to cover his eyes.
“W-What are you going to do to me? Torra asked timidly as the man approached.
“Make, God happy. You know he demands a human sacrifice every full moon… Or…Or else terrible things will happen to…” The man said, his sentence trailing off.
“W-What?!” Torra asked in dismay.
“In other words… H-He demands a sacrifice, and you are the lucky person to be his sacrifice this full moon. But don’t worry, you will go to Heaven, just like the others.” The man said, sounding proud of his work.
“What?! What others?! What do you mean?! What kind of God do you believe in?!
“Shhh… I need silence!” the man yelled, nodding his head in various directions.
Torra watched, at the man’s complete mercy, as he tore off the section of her dress that covered her stomach. He slide open a drawer under the altar and started to paint Torra’s stomach with his fingers in black ink. The he painted symbol resembled a star within a circle.
“What are you doing?!” Torra asked but only receiving another maniacal laugh in response. “You really have issues…” she muttered, exaggerating the word “really” as the man looked around.
“Where is it?!” her captor yelled, leaving the room, causing a huge ruckus as he searched for an item. “My chance to get out…” Torra thought as she tried to untie her hands, struggling until the man came back.
Torra had worked on her binds until she only needed a tug to free herself, but decided against that since the man now held a sickle in his right hand. “I would never stand a chance against that thing…” Torra thought as tears began to well in her eyes.
“What’s the matter, Dearie? Don’t you want to make God happy?” the man said, tiling his head at an angle.
“I am not. I only exist to please God. He chose me when I was born” he said as his eyebrow began to twitch. He pulled up his sleeve, revealing a small symbol that looked crudely cut into his skin ages ago. The man moved closer to Torra, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. He put the tear onto the blade of the weapon and his hand on the hilt. He slid the tear around until it reached the tip of the sharp blade. Torra began to sob louder. Knowing her demise was near; she decided to take one last look at the moon.
“What are you looking at Dearie?” the man asked, noticing his victim starring out the window intently. Glancing backwards, the man slammed the sickle onto the ground but unknowingly, severed the binds to Torra’s legs. Torra felt the binds drop to the ground and realized that this might be her chance to escape. She gave her hands one last tug, breaking the ropes to her hands. “I’M LOOKING AT THIS!” she yelled, sounding a little too over confident while kicking the man in the back of his head. The man stumbled forward as Torra sat up, making a wild dash for the exit, only to trip and fall as the pain in her head returned. “I’m pushing myself too hard…” she thought as she slowly crawled towards a candle. Her vision dimmed dangerously from her fall, but returned to normal after a moment.
“W-What is this?!” the man exclaimed in bewilderment as he got back up. His face started to bleed from the fall he had sustained. “Never in my time have I seen any body break those ropes.” he said and added on in a quiet voice with his head down.
“Maybe God follows in your lead… Like me…”
“Perhaps…” Torra said as she reached for the candle and threw it at the man suddenly. She didn’t care if the candle hit him or not. She only wanted to escape as she crawled towards the exit of the room.
The man watched as the candle sailed across the room, landing at his feet. “Nooo! That’s what the demons want me to believe! God does not follow you!” he yelled and dashed wildly towards Torra. “You will make God happy and you will do it NOW!” he roared and drove the sickle down into Torra’s back, causing blood to splatter on the floor. “My job is done… For this full moon at least…” the man said, throwing his head back while laughing loudly.
Torra screeched in horror as the blade entered her back. She tried to crawl forward but realized she couldn’t move anymore. The blade must have damaged her spine. “I guess this is the end…” Torra said as she started to sob. She couldn’t feel the blade anymore as her limbs started to grow numb from the blood loss. Her vision started to blur around the edges. “I guess I w-won’t be home l-like I promised… M-Mom, Dad…” Torra took a breath and glanced towards the starry night sky behind the window. The moon and the stars seemed like the most beautiful things to her as they appeared brighter than usual. She laid there for a moment before giving off a light sigh and shutting her eyes for the last time. A sudden gust of wind blew through the window, sweeping Torra’s spirit up along with it and into the night sky.