What do you suppose a murder scene looks like? Picture your there at a murder, the scene of the crime and a body of a girl from the looks of 16 in 6 pieces. She got massacred but why? The blood oozing out of each and every wound she got, blood and guts spilling out across the cement. Her head lost, nowhere to be found and yet why take her head? Is it some sort of prize for doing what they did? Just a little gift to themselves that they believe they have earned. A little freaky to take someone’s head and mount it on their wall. But you say nothing about it to anyone until you have looked at everything, everywhere. Her blood is still a bit warm when you touch the puddle that rests at your feet. You suspect that it wasn’t long before the call of some random stranger, unknown number, to say that a body was seen at this very place. Was it the killer? You don’t quite know but you investigate further. Her limbs were nice and smoothly cut off and yet her skin looks to be torn.
The fence that she laid next to was down and the barbed wire was tinted red. Probably from rust but you have them take it back to forensics just to be sure there wasn’t any blood or hand prints upon what looks like a metallic whip. You consider the problem, the girl must have witnessed something or he wanted her. One of the types of killers that wanted the eyes that saw the crime or she fought for herself and got this as treatment. Who knows really, it could be some sick killer and or someone that wanted to get they’re needs taken care of. Sick bastards. While eyeing everything that surrounds you, the pieces of the defenseless young girl, the blood, and the place you found her. Her hands were no help to her now the killer must have tossed them to the side and took off her legs. Then took her head as a sick joke. You light a smoke and stand they’re thinking, you expect there was a lot of rough play seeing as how the fence was knocked down and the brick alley walls had scratches from her fingernails. She tried to climb. The people next door said that they heard light screams but their son’s music was blaring so loud they couldn’t quite tell if it was from his music or outside.
So you took them out of the equation. You notice that the person that lives behind the fence wasn’t home, and the lights were still on. A trail of blood ran from the crime scene to the house that stood there in the dark night with lights as bright as the sun. Struggling with the problem you walk up to the empty house and put out the cigarette you were smoking and headed up to the doorstep. You knocked, of course no ones going to answer seeming as how no one seems to be home. Walking in you noticed that someone had a red stain on the ground and that isn’t ketchup. Taking notes in your small pocket notebook you write down what you see and you hear scuffling in the living room. A thought pops into your head as you head in there, I hope this isn’t the poor bastard that killed the young girl that still laid out there in the alley in pieces. But once you walk in the room you notice that just as you look up from the fireplace, heads were mantled on the wall. Not any normal deer or moose heads but humans. All girls with their mouths elegantly smiling at him and he just seemed to put up the new head, the young girl. She was beautiful, well at least her blue eyes that had splats of her blood in her eyes and on her face. You look at him and the giant grin and blood that stained his face.
You paged the cops that were still in the alleyway to come up here, and when you looked back up he was staring at you. Walking towards you with an axe, and when you screamed just a little, your head was off. Dead to the world you were. You lay there effortlessly, your body lying next to your head. He laughs, looks down at you and smiles when he spoke to your head, “Oh goody, two in one night.”
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