Blood dripped from his fingers. It was grotesquely brilliant when it caught the pale slivers of moonlight. Susan stifled a scream; smothering her terror before it could escape her trembling throat. From her refuge beneath the bed, she could not see him clearly, his visage obscured by the oppressive darkness that enshrouded the room. The only color that populated the scene was the ruby liquid that ran from his hands and pooled on the floor.
The man paced around the room while humming softly to himself. Every footfall caused the floor beneath to groan in retaliation. After several passes around the room, the man paused at the foot of the bed, turning a blade over in his hand. There was a disturbed, practiced quality in the way he turned and flicked the stained steel through the air, leaving a splatter of blood across the wall. A sky of crimson stars soon adorned Susan's bedroom wall.
Her heart was battering her chest, desperately pleading to break free from its hollow cage. Fear had wrapped its frigid claws around Susan and refused to loosen its grip.
The man stopped his humming and for the first time, Susan heard him speak.
"Oh, little bird," he cooed, "where have you gone?"
YOU ARE READING
The Songbird
Teen FictionOne night has the power to change your life forever. Susan Alvarez was made all too aware of this fact the night the Songbird chose her family. "Songbird" was the name given to the serial killer that terrorized the West Coast for nearly two decades...
