Short stories or something...

A Horror Mystery Story Thingy Without a Name:DD

Written in October 2020

I did name this one, but I totally forgot the name of it:/

Warning: Mentions of murder

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"Last night marks victim number three in the past two weeks. Now officially a serial killer, the police department is now asking that you stay indoors, especially at night. Stay safe, Lanesville."

Ashton turned his T.V. off and ran a hand nervously through his jet black hair. A serial killer was on the loose? In a town with a population of barely over 200, three kills is a lot. Just the mere thought of the murderer made his stomach churn -- or maybe that was just his hunger.

It was about lunchtime anyway, Ashton thought before turning off the news. However, upon opening the fridge, he quickly found out that he was fresh out of food.

His once ebbing trepidation revamped tenfold as he realized he'd have to go outside with a vicious person on the loose.

"You'll be fine, Ash," he murmured to himself before grabbing his keys, sweatshirt, and wallet and walking out the front door into the treacherous public.

Not many people were in the local grocery store, maybe 20 people or so. Nonetheless, Ashton still made his shopping trip short. He only needed a couple of things to hold him over: bread, eggs, milk, chips (he could not survive without chips), and a couple of frozen meals. Oh, and hydrogen peroxide. He'd... ran out of it.

As Ashton navigated about the store, he kept his head down, hid his face when he could, and talked to no one. He wanted to keep this trip as discreet as possible without talking, without any trouble. Before people started to stare oddly.

But that was the issue. This small, barely even town was a tightly-knit community. At first, the townsfolk tried to get him to join in on the "fun." However, most stopped after his family mysteriously disappeared only to find their bodies in the nearby woods. Half the town thought he was the one who killed his family. He learned to live with the isolation and over time, found it quite comforting.

Once Ashton finished gathering his items, he swiftly walked over to the registers and scanned for an open cashier.

"Ash! I'm open over here!"

Of course, there were a few people who adamantly tried to become friends with him. This cashier, Parker, also one of the only other young adults in town, being one of them.

With a sigh, Ashton made his way over to the check-out aisle, cursing himself for forgetting that this was the shift of the persistent, exasperating clerk.

"How's your day been, Ash?" Parker asked as she slowly scanned his items.

"Don't call me Ash." He mumbled.

"Alright, alright. How's your day been, Ashton?"

"It's been fine." He knew if he didn't answer, Parker would just annoy him even further.

She asked her regular set of questions and he gave his regular responses, but more hastily, this time. This didn't go unnoticed.

"What's up with you today?" Ashton looked up. "You've been quieter and reserved than usual."

He wanted to say, "Gee, it's not like there's a killer on the loose or anything!", but he just settled for a grumble.

Today, Parker was a little less persistent. She stopped talking after that.

Just as he was about to grab his bags and go, the box T.V. set up in the corner of the room switched to the news.

"Breaking news, the police station just released new information about the serial killer." The same reporter from half an hour ago started, a solemn look on his face. Everyone in the store, all 20 people, looked toward the screen. Ashton felt his face grow hot as his stomach did a 360 flip, landing with intense anticipation.

"Bah, this is nothing," nobody paid mind to the old man's voice, the store owner -- Mr. Simon. As far as Ashton knew, the old man hated him, even before his family died. As if to confirm his thoughts, Mr. Simon glared at him. "It's all bull. They're just trying to get us to leave this town so they can sell the land!" Though it was true that the mayor of the next town over (their mayor had died a few years ago and they didn't bother to reelect. That's how small the town was) practically begged them to move to his town, but they wouldn't budge.

"The suspect is believed to be a male, Lanesville resident. We do not know if he is armed or not." Murmurs broke out in the store. People wondered who would do such a thing within the small community. Ashton paid no mind and focused on the screen ahead. "He strikes alone at night, with a knife and is believed to only attack people in their fifties or older. Based on witness' glimpses at the killer, a sketch had been issued to the public..."

Before Ashton even saw the identifying sketch, he grabbed his bags and dashed out of the store after flipping the hood up on his sweatshirt.

It was dangerous in the open public and he didn't want to spend a single second more in it.

The afternoon quickly crept into the evening, the orange moon rested on the horizon. Everyone remained inside, for the serial killer supposedly lurked about the streets this hour.

Ashton calmed his nerves throughout the day by avoiding the news channels. He tried his best to take his mind off the whole situation, which worked for a while. Long enough for him to get confident enough to take a brief walk.

He stuffed his sweatshirt pockets with the items he needed before locking the door. He kept his strides long and brisk. The pit in his stomach started to grow again in fear of being spotted by anyone. Everything else about him was numb. After all, he had done this before.

A couple of buildings made their way into Ashton's line of sight. Alleyways were hidden between the tight spaces of the buildings. The shadows were eerily dark.

Gusts of the wind blew fallen autumn leaves around. Blurs of orange, yellow, and red surrounded him in the dim night.

He slowed his pace to a mere stroll after putting the hood up on his hoodie and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He kept his senses keen and aware, ready for anything.

The light clang of keys against metal caught his attention.

Mr. Simon was closing up his shop for the night. He clearly didn't care about keeping a low profile or staying quiet, for he whistled an old tune as he sauntered into the street, keys fiddling in his old hands.

"Perfect," Ashton murmured.

Just as he started to pick up his walking speed, two figures emerged from seemingly nowhere a few meters in front of him. Their jackets were black and blue and a shiny, reflective surface was embellished on the breast pocket.

Ashton's eyes widened as he realized who was now after him.

Without a second thought, his legs rushed him in the other direction. He ran as fast as his body would move, but the figures still advanced toward him, shouting commands for him to stop. But why would he stop? This was his existence he was running for.

The people who ran after him started to close the gap. Ten meters slipped away one by one. Before he knew it, the men were right on his heels.

Ashton's life flashed before his eyes. He remembered and imagined anything and everything all at once. What his dim future would look like, his present state of escape... his last moment with his family. The family he'd never get to see again.

Tears of immense guilt escaped from the corners of his eyes as he ran, fighting to stay alive, fighting for his freedom, fighting for his family.

What little hope that was left within him disappeared like a drop in the ocean when a sudden force tackled him to the ground.

This is it, he thought. I've been caught.

"You are under arrest for the murders of..."

The rest faded out, uncaught by Ashton's ears. He was too focused on the rest of his life that was now thrown away. Ashton would now spend the rest of his life behind bars in jail. He was numb to the idea at this point, though.

He knew his life was gone the second his hands plunged his knife through each and every heart of his family.