The Isle of Choices

The Unikiller.

Hello guys or should I say Jay, since no one else reads my stories but it's k, they suck anyways. This ones actually a short story for school but I had an idea to make a novel out of it, maybe I will someday. However I've kinda of managed to make it a short story out of it. Anyways, enjoy :)

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I sighed and sat back in my chair, my story all done. I knew I shouldn't be indulging in these fantasies, but these stories just came to me and I couldn't help but write them down. I knew if these stories were seen by anyone, I'd be recommended to the mental hospital. However, these stories weren't just stories, they were my escape. You see I was a Private Investigator. Yes, I do mean was. My goal was finishing the cases that the FBI couldn't solve. It was one of these cases that had gotten me where I was in the first place. Now, here I was, writing endless stories, my only escape from what I had gone through. Let me tell you what happened. But, be aware, my story isn't for the faint of heart, none of my stories are, so if you dare, go ahead and read it.

I wasn't really the type to believe in ghosts, in fact, I fully shunned everyone who did. Maybe that was why the ghost squad had decided to teach me a lesson and send me two of their most dangerous members. It's clear to say, I definitely regretted never believing those R.L. Stine books in elementary school. Still, if I could ever go back...Oh, right! Back! I should probably go back and start from the beginning since I'm pretty much confusing you all with all my lamenting. (But I do assure you, if you went through what I did, you would be lamenting too. )

It basically all started in my office on a sunny Saturday afternoon, you know, the kind where you feel like you should be outside but you're stuck inside instead. Needless to say, you can see my day was already starting to suck. So, anyways, here I was, stuck inside on a beautiful day and rooting through old newspapers for a case my partner was working on. I, myself, was devoid of a case but I was still working on finding one. Suddenly, my partner, Sarah came in. She was beaming prettily at me and said excitedly, "Ace! I found you a case! It's a bit old, but I hope it'll work! I know, that you just can't stand not being busy." I smiled back at Sarah, it was hard not to, she was the kind of person you had to smile at. Then, suddenly, I registered what she had said and leapt up, nearly screaming, "A new case! That's so wonderful, Sarah! Thanks!" I beamed and gushed like a teenage girl who had been told she had gotten tickets to her favorite boy band's concert, because that was really how much these cases meant to me. Abductions, murders, bombings, you name it, I would enjoy solving any of them. I had to enjoy them, I was a Private Investigator, after all.

Sarah beamed even more at me, if that was possible, how in the world was she always so happy? She then walked over to my desk and slapped an old newspaper and a thin file down on it. "There you go!" she said sweetly. "I'm going to go back to my office now, Mmkk?" I smiled and nodded back to her saying, "Yeah, thanks so much Sarah, I'll look into it!" as she left the room. Looking back, I probably shouldn't have accepted that file because by doing that, I was basically signing my death warrant. In fact, I probably would have thrown it in the garbage, Sarah's supposedly sweet intentions could go screw themselves.

I'm very sad to tell you that I did open that file. Slipping back, I realized soon enough that this was a serial killer case. If I was to be exact it was about the... Unikiller? What? I furrowed my eyebrows and stared at the paper. Yes, they did say Unikiller. I suddenly burst out laughing. Unikiller! Really? What kind of name was that? However, I soon sobered up as I read the case file. It turns out this case was from the point of view of two FBI agents, Cassandra Black and Luke Morris. Apparently they were investigating a serial killer who decorated knife hilts to look like unicorn horns, complete with girly pink sequins and streamers. The UNSUB (a term we use to refer to the killer) then stuck the knife straight in the middle of the victim's forehead, making it protrude like a Unicorn horn thus the name Unikiller. I winced. Ouch, that must have hurt. I sure wasn't laughing at the name now.