'A serial killer is on the loose' are words that a person never wants to hear. It's even worse when said person has to face it, standing on the front line.
Nineteen-year-old Arya Moore, a hodophile who is always up for an adventure has to face the m...
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I was annoyed! I quickly dialled Taylor's number to tell her about the news.
"You won't believe what I just got! Come over quick!" I said in an agitated tone.
"Ok!" She exclaimed and hung up.
While waiting for her, I decided to the most of my time creating a mystery board. It was supposed to contain all the clues we had gotten so far. I printed pictures of premature deaths and newspaper clippings of murders and stuck them on.
I heard the bell ring and figured it was Taylor. I greeted her and she came inside.
"What's this?" She asked discomposed as she saw the board.
"Oh, it's a mystery board. I figured it was better to keep things organised" I said looking shy. Would she think I'm lame? I hoped not.
"What did you want to show me?" She asked sitting down on the couch. I opened the message and gave her my phone.
"This is horrible! We have to back down. We can't let ourselves get killed" She said worriedly.
"I was thinking quite the opposite honestly," I said rubbing my shoulders "This blond kid obviously feels threatened, which means we just need to find out who it is"
"I guess, but do you remember the last time you got a threat?" She asked looking at her shoulders.
I really wanted to go forward with this investigation, but I couldn't force Taylor into something she didn't want to do.
"But, since it's so important to you" She started.
My face lit up. "You'll do it?"
"Yes," she said and giggled.
"We can image search this photo" I suggested.
"But why would a high school graduation photo come?" She asked looking unconvinced.
"I know, but it's worth a shot. And we've got nothing to lose" I encouraged. She nodded in an affirmative manner.
"Check it out!" I yelled.
"What is it?" She asked coming closer to my face.
"Lorian Hemingway story competition winner of 2016" I readout.
"She's a writer?" Taylor asked surprised.
"Seems like it," I said. "This could be our only chance to find her name"
I opened the link that came up and scrolled down a little. There was a paragraph dedicated to the woman who had won the contest.
"Oh no," I frowned.
"What now?" She asked.
"It only mentions the pen name she used in the award, not her real name!" I exclaimed frustrated. The one time we get close to figuring it out, something like this happens.
