The blood on the walls around them was still fresh. It dripped from the walls onto the blood on the floor, separating into layers like the ocean. It was a majestic sight to be seen.
The power that she had felt as she cut the mans neck open was like nothing she had ever felt. She felt as if she could rule the world, as if people were bowing down to her. As she stood above the dead body, she smiled and stood a little taller. Her friends stood around her and stared also, but they did not smile. They has done this several times before. But for her, it was a first. The first time she had felt another mans blood rolling down her arms, the first time she had taken a mans life, the first time she had felt real power.
Putting her hand on the wall, she moved her hand through the mans blood. The coolness of the blood seeped through her fingers and slowly made its way to the center of her palm. Her heart raced but she felt completely placid. She moved her hand through the mans blood a few more times before leaving the room. she did not care that the police had her prints and knew who she was, they would not know where she was hiding of where she was going to kill next. they would only have her name and the address of the house which she had lived when she was young, but that was over a thousand miles away from where she lived now.
after the great power, came the great guilt. she had nightmares every night. she saw his face everywhere that she went, she heard his pleading voice around every corner, she felt his blood running down her arms at all times, but she did not tell her friends these feelings she stayed strong around them. she told herself to stay strong and to not let it bother her, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not. the feeling stayed inside her. they had a leash on her and controlled her every move. they ached inside her and made her scared.
the feeling of power was long gone, she wanted to undo her killing, pretend that it didn't happen, but the thoughts were always there. his voice, his face, his blood. she secluded herself in her bunker and ate, drank, and moved very little if at all. by this time her friends had noticed. they told her that it got better after the first time, but the very thought of killing again made her sick to her stomach.
but she did. again and again and again. and each time it did get better. there was no feeling of guilt or power, there was no feeling at all. the more she killed the more boring it got. so she started having a little fun with it. making them suffer before they died. Her friends told her it was wrong and that she should kill them quickly, but she didn't care what they said, not anymore, she didn't care about anything anymore. So she made their deaths as painful as possible, cutting off her victims eyelids and lips, slicing their gums apart, pealing off their skin and put them in a bag that she carried around, and she would leave them like that, to suffer and die.
When she got home she would sew their skin into clothing so she could wear it around and honour their death, and her power.
Although not many victims after, she began to get bored and changed her tactics. After her twentieth kill her friends stopped her. " kill them fast don't make them suffer." They said. This time she listened and shot the four of them, killing them fast, no pain. Next she chopped off their heads and hung them from her ceiling, so they would not be forgotten. She placed their bodies in her closet and their blood on the walls..
The police knew who they were looking for. They knew her name, what she looked like, and where she had grown up, but they could not find her. They called her the mystery spot murder, because that's what she was, a mystery. They did not know who she was going to kill next or how she was going to do it. They didn't know whether she knew her victims before she killed them, and they did not know if she worked alone or not. They figured she was a hitman but they were not sure.
But with each victim, they got more information.
In the little town of stormlake Iowa there had been 24 people killed by the mystery spot murder over a seven month period. But the deaths slowly came to a stop. And after three months with no one being murdered, they began to wonder if the mystery spot murder had died or moved someplace else to kill people. Until one day when a park ranger discovered her bunker. He never forgot what he saw in that bunker and never truly recovered.
It was two years before the mystery spot murder killed again. But even after two year the police had not given up their search for her. Some thought she was dead but no one knew for sure until they found the body of a sixteen year old boy hanging from a tree. He had been ripped to shreds and his intestines had been removed and replace by fruit. And on his arm, in black sharpie, the words ' love the mystery spot murder' were written.
A copycat was their first guess, but after two more people were found just like that, they began to wonder. The next person they found dead was slaughtered differently than the first three which indicated that she was back.
She was known as the greatest mass murder of all time, killing over thirty people in two years, but that didn't matter to her. She did it because it was the only thing she could do. It was the only time In her life that she felt truly worth something, she had a talent that everybody acknowledged, it was the first time in her life that that had happened.
beaming at the praise, she continued whenever possible.
She stood in the doorway of the mans bedroom. He slept peacefully, not knowing his fate. She continued to watch him throughout the night until he woke. He didn't notice her at first but when he did he didn't believe it. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. "May I help you" the man asked realizing it wasn't a dream.
She didn't say anything. She just made her way over to the side of his bed. He attempted to sit up but she pushed him back firmly. "What are..." She put a finger to her lips signalling for him to be quiet. With a hand still on his chest she leaned in closer.
She slipped the knife silently from the inside of her jacket to her hand. She pressed her lips against his and placed the knife at the side of his head. Breaking apart she stared into his eyes. She pressed the knife deeper into the side of the mans head. He grabbed at her arm and tried to push the knife away but it was to late, she had already drilled it to far into his skull. she yanked it out and blood spilled over the side of his skull along with over his pale lips.
she put her lips to his, feeling the warmth of his blood seep into her cold lips. loving the exotic taste on her tongue.
she would repeat this for this for several more victims before January 8th 2016, the night the police had caught her. they surrounded the house and shouted warnings at her though the mega-phone. this is where it ends, she said to herself. she slit the child's throat and then did the same to her parents. she wrote "love the mystery spot murder" on the living room wall in their blood and took the rope out of her bag of flesh. tying the rope into a noose she made her way out to the backyard. She breathed in the cool winters air and smiled to herself, for once in her life she felt like she had accomplished something. she was the most famous mass murder since jack the ripper. This is what she had wanted all along, recognition for something that she had done. she slung the rope over the tree branch and put the her head through the loop. this is my escape, she thought before stepping off of the stool. She had never feared death. She knew this was how it would end for her.
but her legacy didn't end there. there were many copy cats. some more successful than others. The police calculated that there were at least ten copy cats, it was easy to find them, they were not as intelligent as the real mystery spot murder and never did things the same way as she did, they were never as morbid as she was. They still had feelings. Feelings toward the creatures. They were not as cruel as she was. The copy cats never killed more than two victims they were in the system already. Everything about them. Unlike the real killer who had cleverly erased herself. It wasn't until years later that people had given trying to copy her. After they found her body hanging from a tree, people didn't know what to do. They had caught her. The threat was gone, the copy cats stopped and the crisis was over.
