Must... stay... in shape!

OKay… so it’s been like, forever since I last wrote anything. I must get back in shape! lifting pencil weights.

Anyways… I don’t know if anyone remembers a little dark story I wrote oh so long ago called “Twisted Love.” well… I’ve gotten enough temptations of writing a sequel… so… I wrote a sequel! This one is shorter I think. But I hope you guys enjoy it!

Twisted Love: Scarlet Drops

The sounds of a dripping liquid was like music to my ears. It echoed in the silence of the darkness. The crimson color became black, once landing on the conceret floor beside my feet. I smiled down at my project, feeling the absolute sensation of success through out my body.

“Well, thank you for your time, Mr. White.” I spoke to the person on the table. I gather up my supplies, after cleaning them off with a white cloth, into the black bag. With one last look, I smiled. “What a lovely experiment you are.” With that said, I walked off, whistling my favorite child song.

Upon the table was a man of pale skin and dark brown hair. He was strapped down with leather belts by his wrists and ankles. His throat had been cut open deeply, killing him with the single swipe. This wound was sewn back together, of course. Along his wrists were deep cuts where I had explored the inside of his wrist. These were sewn back up with black iron thread. His stomach had been cut open, leaving a large empty hole, no oragans or anything inside. Above it on his chest was sewn words of ‘Loving Death’.

This man wasn’t the first of my victims. Yes, I have had many more before him. Not all were human though. Some were mamals, reptiles, and even insects. Above all, one of my favorites were that of the eight legged creatures, spiders. I’ve built a good reputation of being the ‘Modern Jack the Ripper.’ But I do not wish to be of good old Jack, but that of my own. His style was that of Prosititues. I wish to be different, so I select my victims that know me as a person. A family member or a friend.

The man upon the table was a friend. A boy friend, if you please.

I opened up the newspaper and flipped through the pages. I scanned the titles, “Man sets new world Record…” “Child found abused and raped in sewers…” and “…trail please guilty…” however, none of these seemed interesting. Getting tired of this I flip through the pages, coming across a photograph of my younger sister, Jessica with the title “Author successfully finsihes promising novel.” I couldn’t help but grin.

It’s been over three months since I last saw my sister, helpless on the Man Trap in my old home. She made a beautiful experiment. Jessica is the only one of my victims that I have allowed to live. A fatal mistake you may think, but I assure you I know very well of why I did that. Now, I think it is time to pay my dear Jessica a visit.


Jessica sat at her computer desk, typing her thoughts down. Her arms were exposed showing off a long scar along her right arm. She sipped from her cup of tea and decided to close it up for the night. Jessica turned off the computer and stood up to stretch. The young author walked across the living room and sat in the recliner, and turned the television on with a press of a button on the remote.

She only watched the movie for a few minutes before drifting off into sleep. Jessica later woke to the sound of a crash from her kitchen. She jolt up and panted a little. Her eyes searched the room from where she was before getting up and looking around.

When Jessica arriver in her kitchen, she found that a glass had been knocked over by a grey tabby cat. “Tigger…” she muttered under her breath. He meowed at her as she picked him up and placed him back on the ground. The fat cat scurried away and into another room.

Jessica shook her head and headed back to the livingroom. Upon her arrival she found one of the window’s opened with the curtains blowing with the wind. She quickly walked to it and closed it. She remembered she did not leave that window open. Then, the dreadful thought that someone else was in the house with her slammed into her mind. Her heart skipped a beat as her aderline pulsed through her veins.

Slowly, Jessica went to the front door, grabbing a cane from the bucket and held it tightly. Her house being a one story she didn’t have very many places to look. She looked around her front room, finding nothing out of order. Secondly was her kitchen and laundry room, however those were clear as well. Thirdly she looked in the bathroom only to find no one there as well.

Her bedroom was the last room she had to check. Gripping the cane rather tightly, she turned on her bedroom light. Slowly, Jessica looked behind things and under the bed. The last place was her closet. Ever since she was little, Jessica has always had a fear of the closet. As a young girl, she use to see red glowing eyes peering at her from within the closet. This always scared her so she had always kept the closet door shut and shut good. Gathering what little courage she could muster, Jessica placed her hand on the golden knob. Her heart was in her throat, her blood ran cold. The sockets creeked as the door opened.

“Boo.” I smiled at her, peering at her from within her closet.

Her screamed echoed in the room. Jessica was too scared to hold onto the cane, but it did not matter. I lundged at her before she could ven swing at me. I held her wrist tightly, forcing her to drop her only defense. I cupped my hand over my sisters red lips, cooing her to shush.

“Shush, Jessica. You wouldn’t want to upset me now would you?” I spoke calmly to her. Oh how I loved to see tears of fear crawl down her beautiful green eyes. She sobbed softly as I swiftly went around her, my hand caressed her throat as I twisted her arm behind her and snapped it out of place. Jessica gave a cry out with the sound of that crack.

I still held that arm with a painful pressure as I dragged her out of her room to her kitchen. Jessica tried hard not to sob loudly but the pain in her arm and shoulder was too much.

“P-please don’t…” I heard her mummer.

I couldn’t help but smirk for her. I held her arm tightly, opening her cabinet where my bag awaited me.

“Three months ago I let you live. This time, my dear sister, I won’t make the same assurance.” I told her.

From within my bag I pulled out some ropes and tied her wrists together, then her ankles and thighs. I left her with her pants, but I had to cut her shirt off to see her beautiful scar. Still there, my angelic mark. “How’s your new heart doing, Jessica?” I smiled twistedly at her.

“Chris… please don’t… please…” She begged me, her tears swelling harder than before.

“Aw, did you not miss me, sister?” I smirked at her. With a free line of robe, I pulled her over to her kitchen table and tied her down. Jessica knew if she struggled with me, her pain would only get worse. She only laid there, helpless and sobbing.

I searched in my bag for the scaple. “Which do you want to lose first; your life or a body part?” I questioned her only to get a cry in response. “Body part, I thought that too.” I grinned at her and brought the kinfe down to her scar. I swipped down, cutting her bra loose and then disgarded it to the floor. With her upper body exposed to me, I looked for a place to begin with. Her right side seemed to crave for attention.

With a simple motion I pressed the blade down, watching as scarlet bubbled out and then trailed down on to the table. Jessica held back a scream and tried nto to move. She could feel my blade moving along her skin, like a spider in search for warmth. I made a long cut from her right up, across to under her left breast. Then, I did the same to the other side, only under the right breast.

“Let’s see… what do I feel like doing for you… hmm…” I questionmed myself aloud, watching as the blood trailed down her body. The image of wings occured to me. I smiled and brought the knife to her stomach. She cried as I continued with my scarlet torture.

Soon I had stopped and started to clean and sewtcher her new scars up. When I finished, I smiled at them. Upon her skin were wings outstretched to her diaphram.

“Now, for the real fun.” I said to myself.

Jessica felt the sensation of nausea over come her sore body. Soon, her world blacked out and my little sister had drifted into unconscious.


“Wake up Jessica.” I spoke sternly.

Jessica stirred back from her sleep and looked around. She realised she was now in her bedroom, upon her bed still tied up. Her body felt so sore and weak. Jessica looked down at herself and found that a knife was barely poking inside her reopened scar.

“You’re in your death bed, Jessica, here is where you die.” I told her. I kneeled beside her in her bed and began to say a little prayer for her. “Rest in peice…” I said softly. I took the knife from her chest and brought it up, looking at her face. Her green eyes were filled with tears of pain and sadness. Tears I had seen in times of her need for comfort from me. I was caught in mid strike.

She closed her eyes just before the knife came down, ripping into the flesh. And then, Jessica felt something hit her head, knocking her out.


“And then, you blacked out? What did she do? Stab herself?” The police investigator asked Jessica as she laid in a hosptile bed.

“Yes, detective. That was when she knocked me out and called the police.” Jessica responded.

“Any idea where she is now?” he questioned.

“No. Chris was never one to stay in one place. By now I imagine she’s already out of town.” she answered.

“Jessica… your sister is said to be ‘Modern Jack’… leaving no survivers behind. Why do you think she let you live?” The Investigator looked at her, bewildered.

Jessica turned her attention away from him, hearing a sparrow outside her recovery room window. She smiled at it’s song. “Because… it’s her twisted way of love…” her words were soft.

Eeeeeek. If you were going for twisted and disturbing, you did a fantastic job. I hope you don’t mind my asking, but why did you put yourself in the leading role? And is Jessica a real person, or did you simply invent her for the purposes of the story you were telling?

Jessica is based off my little sister only with a different name. >.>

Originally the first story was made for a contest I entered like… two, three years back. I thought that first person point of view would be more intreging. I put mysef as the main role because I thought it would be interesting (as the writer myself) to see if I could take my writing abilites and my imagination to a killer’s mind. PLus I thought the readers would like to know things from a killer’s point of view. (Though I am not a killer myself, I often dream of it.) Putting myself as the lead role was more like a challenge for me as a writer. You know what I’m saying?

After the first story I was debating if I should take away the first person but then I thought that would take away the creepiness. To me, what gave the story life was the way the killer told it from her point of view. Thus the reason why I kept myself as the leading role.

You write That about your sister??
Jeez… that is going a little down the “twisted and disturbing” path…

Unless of course… it is only a base for a meaning which is not in what was just written… ?


Mind you, I was watching “THe Thing” when I wrote the first one. >.> And the first was written for a Dark Story Contest at a different site I use to go to. Don’t worry, no harm was done to any of the people mentioned in the story except for the author herself. Any violantion of the story to the characters were looked into at once; the author is seeing consculing just for the purpose. >.>

Here’s the next part to this story line. Mind you it’s a bit… well, at least an R warning.

Twisted Love: Black Snow

He ran a finger down my delicately smooth skin, tracing along my torso. I watched him without a smile as we lay there in the black satin bed. He had a cocky grin on his face, the kind I despised so much. He was leaning on an elbow, looking down at my finely curved body as if it was his property. I could sense this just by the look in his hazel eyes. Finally his fingers came to a long pale colored scar along my stomach. He traced it for a moment.

“How did that happen?” He asked.

I smirked to myself. “I stabbed myself.” My answer was very blunt.

He grinned and snorted as if disbelieving me. “Why would you stab yourself?” He asked.

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t intend it to be seductive; he seemed to have liked it in a sexy way. His arms pulled my body closer to his. I hated that for no reason. He nuzzled my shoulder like a dog and kissed my neck.

“Because,” I stopped as I pushed myself away “I am a sick freak who loves pain.” I answered bluntly again.

He stayed there in the bed, watching me with a smirk as I gathered my clothing. “Where are you going?” he asked me.

“Home.” I responded.

He pouted at me, puckering up his lip pathetically.

I pulled on my gray pin stripped slacks after getting my garnets on. My long brown hair fell over my shoulders as I did so. I could sense his eyes watching me with my back turned to him. I could feel his lusty gaze on my shoulders. This sent an angry thrill throughout me. I pushed away the evil thoughts that were occurring to me and decided to wait before tasting his blood.

“Why are you leaving?” he questioned me.

“Because I can and I want to.”

He climbed out of the bed and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, stopping me from pulling my scarlet sweater on. “Do you have to?” He whispered in my ear as he pulled me close.

I bit my bottom lip. I turned around, wrapped my arms around his shoulders as his hands fell to my hips. “Why don’t you come over to my place, tomorrow night? There I’ll treat you to something extra special.” I couldn’t help but smile.

He grinned. “Sure. It’ll be my first time at your place though… you won’t… do anything to me, will you?”

I laughed softly, a deep laugh that anyone would find creepy. “Of course not, Robbie. I would never want to hurt you.” I kissed him. He had a sour taste, a bitter sour mind you. It made me sick just being near him.

Robbie let me go finally. I finished dressing and pulled my long coat on with black fur at the collar. I waved bye at him as I left his apartment into the snow.

Why would I let myself be used like that if I hated it so much? Simple, it’s how I work. For some men that I find attractive, I let them get close. When they are close enough I will bite and eat them alive. I am what they call a Venus fly trap and Robbie is the fly. I like to play this game, but not too often.

I walked through the snow, hands in my pockets. It was a light snow, some of it was now gathering on my head as I headed for the room I was renting in the near by hotel. After this man I would move on to another place; this city was boring for me. But, I did love the snow. I came to this city because I heard the snow was beautiful here. My expectations were succeeded.

Snow was something I never got to see very much as a child. But when I did see it, it was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes upon. A fresh blanket of snow on the ground with the sun raising just barely over the clouds is a wonder to see. The drops sparkle so gracefully.

I arrived at the apartment I was staying in. At the front door I slipped out of my shoes and left them on a towel to dry. Then I removed my coat and placed it on a rack next to the door. I walked further into the small room, moving my hair over my shoulder. I walked into the little bathroom and removed my clothing. I got into the shower with the water running at a warm temperature. I had to get his filth off my body.

I finished and got dressed into a different pair of slacks and shirt. ON the table beside the window was a black bag and a cage covered with a red cloth. I sat down at this table and opened my bag, pulling out all my utensils. Then, I lifted the cloth revealing a black and white kitten. His legs were wounded and he looked like he had been in a very horrible fight.

“I am going to help you… you must trust me.” I spoke sternly to the shivering kitten. I pulled him out of the cage and held him to the table, cutting away the fur around his wounded leg. “I’m going to need to clean your wound. It will sting a little.” I told him.

Animals have a way of being able to sense a threat, or a dangerous human being. This four legged creature was too scared to even move. I suppose he could sense the evil that rest within my hands and what I could do to him if he did not obey.

I poured some peroxide on his wound, making him hiss and whine but that was all he did. My other hand had a grip on him so he would not try to get up. I started cleaning away the access tissue and dried up blood spots so I could see the damage. A rip right into the leg. I did my best to clean it before taking a needle with some stitches to the cut. Then I wrapped some gauze around his leg.

The other wounds were not as bad, a few cuts here and there but nothing that needed a good sewing job. I cleaned them, and made sure they would not be infected.

“There, that wasn’t so bad now was it?” I spoke gently. I must admit, I had a soft spot for black cats. He stayed there on the table, looking tired, hungry and thirsty. I stroked his head before putting him back inside the cage. I walked to a different bag I carried with me. Inside were cans of food I carried around in case I was hungry and didn’t feel up to fast food. I dug through the cans, finding a can of chicken broth. I never know why I carry some of these things around with me, it was just a force of old habit. I dumped it into a small bowl and let it heat up a little inside the microwave. Then, with some fresh water, I took it over to him.

“You need to consume something or you’ll die of hunger and thirst.” I told him. I placed the broth and water inside his cage and left him to tend to himself.

After cleaning my tools, I placed them back inside the bag. I was going to need them tomorrow night. Then, I laid my tired body upon the bed and slept.


The snow was coming down in large numbers but with little wind. I sat there at the window watching it. The sun was gone, hidden away behind the clouds and horizon as night crept throughout the city. The black kitten rested in my lab with my fingers stroking through his short black fur. He was starting to look better already. I decided to name him Argider.

From the snow I could see a black figure. Robbie was on his way here.

I carried Argider to his cage and placed him inside gently. “Stay here, don’t make a sound and get some rest.” I told him. I placed the red cloth back over his cage as I walked to the door to open it.

“Hey Chris.” He grinned at me as I opened the door.

“Robbie, come in won’t you.” I moved aside for him to walk in.

Robbie took off his snow covered jacket and placed it on the coat rack next to mine. It was a fabulous leather trench coat that I admired a lot.

“This is a nice little room. How long are you staying again?” He looked over at me, his hazel eyes filled with a lust.

“Three days at total.” I answered, crossing my arms at him as I sat on my bed.

“Ah, that’s too bad.” He grinned. “I suppose there’s no way I could… persuade you to stay?”

I had to give him some credit for his stubbornness.

“No. I won’t stay any longer.” I replied.

Robbie pouted with his perking bottom lip as he knelt in front of me, hands going to my slender waist. “Please?” He whined.

I rolled my eyes at him. I moved swiftly from him, almost stealthily and walked to the table. “Robbie… you know about the black widow spider, right?”

He snorted bewilderingly. “A little, but what does that have to do with us?” he asked.

“The female, who is black with a red hourglass on her under belly, is generally larger than the male. After mating, the female will kill the male and eat him or save him for food for her eggs. That is why she is called the widower.” I answered his question, opening the black bag.

He stared at my back. Robbie watched me as I pulled off the scarlet sweater, revealing only bare skin. Then he smirked.

“Well, Miss Black Widow… come to your mate…” Robbie spoke to me.

I grinned and turned around, hiding the scalpel in my back pant pocket. He watched as I approached him with my own smirked. I slide into his lap, legs spreading as my hands cupped his face. My crimson lips touched his. Robbie’s hands went to my hips as I moved closer to him. My fingers ran through his short hair to his neck and shoulders. I traced along his chest and lower, knowing how much he liked that.

I broke apart from him. “Robbie…” I said softly in his ear. I moved one hand to behind me as his hands were starting to go to my rear. “How do you love me?” I asked in a hushed tone. I slipped the scalpel out of my pocket just as his hands touched my rear.

“Hm… with a burning mad passion.” He smirked at me, giving a little slap.

I couldn’t help but smirk.

“What about you?” He looked up at me as I sat up on my knees.

“It’s a twisted thing.” I answered. My right hand revealed the scalpel. His eyes looked at it and grinned.

“What’s this? Are you going to stab yourself over me now?” Robbie raised an eyebrow at me.

“No, Robbie. I’m going to stab you.” I smirked.

Before he knew it, I stabbed the blade into his left shoulder. He yelled and threw me off him. I landed against the dresser with the scalpel still in my hand.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” He yelled at me.

I only licked the blood off the blade.

Robbie stared at me in disgust as he headed for the front door. I got there first and slit his arm open.

“Oh no you don’t Robbie. You have to die, it’s mating procedures, remember?” I smirked and slashed the scalpel at him again. He managed to step back and avoid this slash. Robbie grabbed my wrist and twisted it behind my back.

“You’re a sick freak.” He growled in my ear and swung me away. My body landed on the bed with a sprained wrist. Robbie tried opening the door. “What did you do to this door?!” he panicked. The door was jammed.

“The itcy bitcy spider went up the water spout. Down came the rain and wash the spider out…” I spoke. I got up and started walking toward him.

Robbie looked at the window and rushed to it. He struggled with himself as he tried opening it but the pain in his shoulder and arm was stinging and bleeding.

“Up came the sun and dried up all the rain… so the itcy bitcy spider went up the spout again.” I smirked and stabbed into his back. Robbie yelped with pain. I brought the scalpel down, dragging the blade through his flesh and shirt. He spun his fist around, knocking me over by his arm.

“You little…” He winced before he could finish. Out of anger, Robbie threw over the cage on the table that held Argider and started banging his fists on the unbreakable glass. “Help!” He cried out.

Seeing Argider’s caged thrown over with the black kitten on the side, his wounds reopened angered me. “Now you die.” I growled.

Robbie found the black bag sitting on the table and reached in, pulling out a knife. He turned to me and lunged at me. I moved to the side, his blade cutting into my right arm. I didn’t wait another second; he would have to die now. With the scalpel I swiftly jabbed it into his temple, an instant death. Robbie fell to his knees and landed face first on the floor. His scarlet blood spilled on the floor of the hotel room.

I stood over him and watched as the puddle formed. With my arm aching I walked over to Argider and opened his cage. He was whimpering and meowing. “Shh…” I cooed as I pulled him out. “We’ll be out of here in a minute.” I told him and held him in my arms. Blood was running down my arm. I walked where the hotel kept fresh towels and wrapped Arigder in one nice and comfy.

With him in the towel, I walked back to the black bag and pulled out the needle and stitches. I was going to have to sew my wound back up so I don’t bleed all over the place. Argider rested in his towel, watching me with his ice blue eyes as I tried cleaning away some of the blood. I looked at him back. “What? never watched a person fix them self?” I talked aloud as if trying to strike a conversation with the four legged creature.

Within time, I had the wound stitched together and wrapped in bandages. I pulled on a red bra and then my sweater. With a glance at the corpse on my floor I growled.

“Well Robbie, mating season just isn’t your lucky season, now is it?” I walked to him and grabbed my scalpel out of his head. I picked up the knife, and licked my blood off it and cleaned them both before placing the knife inside my bag. I kicked over his body and ripped his shirt off. With the scalpel I carved 'Black Widow." On his stomach I began to draw a black widow spider. When I was finished I cleaned the scalpel with a cloth and placed it inside the bag.

I grabbed his leather coat and pulled it on. Then I picked the bundled up Argider and held him in my arms. I walked to the front door, bent over and pulled the silver fork out of place. With my keys I unlocked it and walked out into the heavily but calmly falling snow.

With Argider in one arm and my bag in the other, I whistled into the the snow. My shoes, which had stepped in the blood puddle, left black imprints in the snow. “… the itcy bitcy spider climbed up the spout again…” My voice echoed in the wind.

…Funny how these stories never show the part where the killer is caught by the police. ~_^

But I guess that’s the point of a “revenge” fantasy, eh?

Nice to see you writing again, CC. Kinda disturbing subject, but hey, at least you’re getting it OUT of your head! Your writing is still good. How have you been doing, BTW? Good, I hope? And hey, are you going to continue the Link story anytime soon?

Well Wil, I’ve been… hell. only good thing that’s happened to me as of late is Alex.

I plan to whenever I get the inspiration. ^^;

Keep it coming…it’s very good.

CC: Sorry to hear that things aren’t so good for you. But have faith; nothing last for ever, not even misery. And as I said, writing is a great way to deal with anger and other such dark feelings.

As usual, let me know if I can help with a story, or anything else.

Be well. :wave:

This stuff is making me cry… but I can’t help but wonder… Your fictional self seems to enjoy killing guys who treat her like a toy, right? Hmmm…

Twisted Love: White Thorns

“Dear lord what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know, you’re the detective here.”

Elise rolled her eyes. Before her laid the body of a now dead Robbie. She was assigned the ‘Modern Jack’ case since the beginning. This young female detective was very open minded about her cases and often captured the killer before his/her next move. I, however, always seemed to be a step or two ahead of her. This fact flustered our young ‘heroine.’ The so-called ‘Modern Jack’ left barely any clues behind for her to look for. Elise boggled her brain and looked at the body.

“A small simple stab to the right temple is the cause of death. On the chest is ‘Black Widow’ along with a carving of a spider on his torso.” She reported out. “There appears to have been a struggle before the death.”

“Elise… we have evidence over here.” called out Chief Mayers.

Elise walked over to the coat rack where my coat rested as it was when I left it.

“Do you think it’s the killers?” Mayers asked.

“It could be. Check it for any hair or prints.” Elise ordered.

With the evidence gathered and the crime scene cleaned but left closed off, Elise walked to her car and got in. She closed the door and leaned on the stirring wheel. It’s been almost five months since this case started and the killer was still at large. Why couldn’t she just catch this criminal?

After rubbing her temples, Elise started her car up and headed out into the snowy daylight.


The classical music was so soothing to me as it played on the radio. The strings sent a slow and cold thrill through my veins. I closed my eyes. I loved this music.

Argider laid his head in my lap, purring contently. I stroked through his black fur. His leg was already showing signs of a good healing. This fact made me glad. I sighed heavily.

“Well Argider… we’re running low on victims.” I spoke aloud. His ice blue eyes looked up at me and meowed. I smiled at him and stroked his back. “We need to find some more… any ideas?” I questioned him. He blinked lazily at me and flicked his tail. I rolled my eyes. “Lazy cat…” I muttered. Argider seemed to have understood me; his head turned over to the newspaper on the floor beside me. Earlier that day I had thrown it down without reading it. I looked at it with him and saw the heading "‘Modern Jack’ Strikes again!’ with the picture of Inspector Elise.

“This? Well now, why if it isn’t Inspector Elise… the one who’s hunting for the hunter.” I smirked. “Oh how most entertaining!” I exclaimed.

I grabbed the paper to further read what the press had to say about my work. “Oh how pleasant… I think it’s time to give our lovely heroine a taste of her own medicine!” I smiled. Argider meowed at me. I stroked his back and continued petting him. It was time to set a trap.


“Elise… something came in addressed to you.” Mayers came up to her desk holding a large envelope.

Elise looked up from her evidence folder and took it. She looked at the front with her complete name written in black ink rather delicately. She first held it up to the light to check it for any traps or tricks. Then, with a knife she carefully opened the package. Before anything else, Elise pulled on a pair of latex gloves and then removed the contents.

Within this packaged was a letter of my lovely hand writing. She skimmed through it before looking at the rest of the contents; a white rose and a black feather. Elise looked back at the letter.

I know it may seem highly unlikely to you that I am  your 'Modern   Jack' but let me reassure you; meet me at the park later this evening and I will prove to you who I truly am. But do please keep our meeting a secret. I wouldn't want my hostage to die of an 'accidental' death. 
Oh, and do please bring back the rose and feather. 
                     Ta ta, 
               Jack The Ripper.

Sure, many people have tried claiming my right as the killer and several are false. Elise knew of the risk but she had a gut feeling I was the true killer. She knew the risk of the hostage and something was telling her to go alone. Elise took a heavy on the heart breath. This had to be done on her own.


Night rolled around dreadfully, the snow had stopped coming and the ground was covered with a fresh layer of snow. It was a full moon tonight, showing every dark shadow that danced along the walls and sheets of ice. This was my favorite time of the night and my favorite phase of the moon. It was the perfect night for a scare and a murder.

Elise strolled calmly down the side walk of the park. She was eyeing anything that moved. Her breath rose into the night sky in a cloudy vapor.

I watched her as I approached. She did not know it was I she was hunting, however her forest green eyes would not tear away from me. My rose red lips curved into a smile. The leather jacket was protecting me from the cold and wet snow drops. Her cheeks were rosy with her pale face as I stopped before her.

“Good evening detective. I was beginning to think you had abandoned your hostage.” I spoke calmly.

Elise stared at me disbelievingly.

I bowed gracefully. “My name is Chris. I am your Jack.” I smiled at her still.

Elise collected her courage and thoughts. A twisted feeling had bundled up in her chest the moment she heard me say ‘Jack.’ I could see it in her eyes that she was amazed that her prey was right in front of her eyes.

“Lovely. Both hunters are gathered in a stand down. One of good purpose following truth and justice; the other… of her own personal game for blood and death.” I spoke in a poetic tone. “Did you bring me my feather and rose?”

Elise swallowed hard and tried her best to remain calm. I smell her fear coming from her. From her inner pockets of her coat, she pulled out the rose and black feather I had sent to her.

“Why thank you. Do me a favor and place them in the snow over there… then we shall discuss whether I let you live or not…” I asked her politely.

“Where’s the hostage?” She asked me, her eyes not leaving me. I watched her as she placed the items in the clean, undisturbed snow. “What have you done to it?”

“Don’t fret. I can guarantee your hostage is safe and comfy by a warm gentle fire.” I answered. Indeed the hostage was safe and sound by a warm fire, but of course only I knew this for a fact.

Elise’s eyes looked me up and down, as if trying to spot any weakness or if I was hiding something. Her eyes then came across my deep blue ones. She felt her heart skip a beat and tried its best to recapture the original beat. The forest of green never left my deep artic sea. Elise felt her heart freeze as her blood ran cold. She couldn’t tell if it was the snow that caused her to become a statue of ice or if it was the eyes that haunted her every move.

I moved closer to her. Before the detective knew it I was only half an arm’s length away from her. She could see how the richness of my rosy lips. I felt her warm breathes turn cold upon my face.

“Now detective… we shall discuss whether you live or not…” I spoke calmly. My voice sent such a chill down her spine.

“Wh-what are your terms?” Elise asked me with a hint of fear.

I smiled at her.

“For one thing… I am not coping the style of the famous Jack the Ripper, nor do I wish to be known as his ‘successor‘. Our styles are different and I want to make that clear.” I answered her.

“Is that all?” She looked at me. This young detective only wished that was all.

I leaned closer to her. My face was just inches from her own.

“I want death.” my voice was only that of a whisper.

Elise could only blink and take a single step backward before my hand slapped her hard across the face. She flew to the ground and into the snow. She scrambled to her feet and reached into her coat pocket for her gun. Before Elise had a chance to aim and fire, I grabbed her wrist and twisted it, forcing the gun to land in the snow. She groaned in pain with her wrist now broken. I grabbed her by the roots of her hair and held her up.

“Do you know that blood appears quite black in the moonlight?” I asked her. She only reached behind her to try and grab my arm. I pulled tighter on her hair which earned me a yelp. “Shush…” I cooed her ear. “If you relax, this won’t hurt so badly.”

Elise rolled her eyes and didn’t struggle with me any further. With one hand gripping her hair roots tightly, I slipped her coat of her shoulders.

“Lovely coat.” I commented her. I threw the bundle of material to the side. “On your knees.” I commanded.

Elise obeyed me and sat on her knees. My hand still had a grip on her hair. This was causing her a world of pain for her head. From my coat pocket I pulled out the scalpel.

“How do you wish to die, detective?” I asked. She whimpered softly.

“Hm, I thought so.” I smiled for her.

I forced her head to lean forehead, getting a good view of the back of her neck. I brought the cold blade to her skin.

“Freeze!” a male’s voice shouted.

I lifted my head up and looked from where the shout came from. A patrol police officer stood a few yards away from us pointing his gun at me.

“Drop your weapon and step away from her!” He ordered.

I smiled. I dropped my scalpel into the snow and calmly stepped away from Elise. Elise scrambled away and grabbed her gun.

“You’re under arrest for homicide! Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law!” The detective snapped at me.

I looked at her then at the approaching police man.

“Ma’am… please put the gun down…” he asked calmly.

“I’m with the CSI, sir. I know what I’m doing.” She replied. Her eyes focused upon me. The police man nodded and turned back to me.

“Hold your hands up over your head where we can see them.” he ordered me.

Given the situation I had to ably. I rose my hands up for them; a smile still upon my calm exterior. They slowly approached me, both guns pointed at my limbs if I dared to move. The police man was the first to reach me. He slowly relaxed his gun arm. That was my chance. Before Elise had a chance to fire, I swung around and twirled behind him, grabbing his gun arm and snapped it out of place. I knew my movement would startle Elise, forcing her to fire her gun on the young man. She shot him clear in the torso.

I threw the bleeding body at Elise with his gun in my hand. I held it out as she caught him and lost her balance. With my eye sharp and ready, I fired. The bullet breezed past the now dead officer and got Elise in the shoulder. The detective was buried under the corpse bleeding into the snow. She was in pain.

I walked over and kicked the gun away from her, then I pushed the dead off. “It won’t be long before the police come here.” I told her. I picked her body up into my arms and carried her towards the rose and feather. I laid her down into the snow then snapped her knees broken so she could not run. She yelped in pain.

I looked from my scalpel and walked back to her, kneeling beside her. “Your death means another innocent life lives…” I told her, smiling. “Congratulations detective.”

Elise looked up at me. “Answer me… one question… before you kill me.”


“Why? What is your purpose behind the desire of death?” She questioned me.

I leaned down to her and whispered the answer within her ear. “To answer my own question. Am I alive or am I really dead?”

Elise closed her eyes. She didn’t want to struggle any more, but she didn’t want to die either. Her strength was slipping away with her blood. She opened her eyes once more to look up at the falling snow.

I brought the scalpel to her throat and pressed it in. Then I swiftly slit across and watched as the blood poured out. Her forest green eyes stared up as the life escaped them.

“It was a pleasure meeting you detective.” I smiled. With my scalpel and cut the chest of her shirt open and craved ‘Killer Chris’ into her chest.

Before I left her I picked up the white rose and placed it on her body, then placed her hands over it. I closed her eyes and stood up.


“Shush…” I cooed the crying child. I was back in my hotel room. “You’re fine now.” I assured her. “Your father can’t hurt you any more.” This girl looked no older than eight.

Her big, tear filled, blue eyes looked up at me. Her right cheek had a bruise from being smacked by her father. During my travel I came across a child and her father, whom was beating her in public. Feeling for the girl, I rescued her and took her back to my apartment and bandaged her wounds. She was no hostage, just a child lost and scared. I only used her just to make some insurance that Detective Elise would meet me.

“I called the police, they’ll be here soon to pick you up and put you in child care services. You tell them everything your father has done to you. Alright?” I told her.

She nodded her head and sniffled.

“Be strong little girl. You must be strong or you’ll be trampled upon.” I stood up from her. She watched me as I took Argider into my arm and grabbed my black bag.

“W-wait…” she plead.

I glanced back at her.

“What’s… your name?” She asked.

“Chris.” I responded.

She smiled. “Thank you… Chris.”

I bowed to her and walked out of the hotel room. Argider looked up at me as he seek warmth in my arm and coat. He purred as I held him and walked through the snow.

I don’t know why this stuff always gives me chest pain…

Does anyone would like me to continue posting this story here? Or, are anyone even reading this? >.>

I’d say continue to post it. It’s an interesting, albeit dark, story, and it deserves to be continued. You have great potential.