'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...
It was midnight, almost the entire city was asleep.
The only sound that could be heard was the heavy breathing of a young girl in her early twenties.
"How did I get myself into this mess?" She asked herself as she struggled to get the knife in her abdomen away from her.
She let out a few painful groans as she slowly plucked the knife out.
"Olivia? Where are you?" A cold, husky voice asked, followed by the sound of metal clanking. Hearing this, Olivia knew she had to get out of there and fast.
She used what remaining strength was left in her body and got up, she went into her bedroom and crawled under the bed. It wasn't the ideal hiding spot, but where else could you go when a killer was blocking the entrance?
The sound of footsteps grew closer, Olivia tried not to draw too much attention. From her hiding spot, she could see a pair of black wellington boots go right past her room. Just as she was about to breathe a sigh of relief, the footsteps came back and entered the room.
"Oh no, she found me!" Olivia thought as she began panicking, but knew she couldn't do anything.
A strong force pushed the bed back, revealing Olivia.
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"You didn't think you could escape me, did you?" The hooded figure spoke.
"Please, don't do this. I-I'm your friend" Olivia stuttered trying to talk her way out of this.
"You were my friend," She said before lifting her arm up. She had an axe in her hand and was ready to strike.
"Ahhhhh"
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Present time
"Remove your mask" I demanded, not letting go of my gun.
"You already know who I am, but fine," She said before removing her mask.
I couldn't believe my eyes, I mean I had guessed it a long time before, but a part of me hoped I was wrong about this.
"Why aren't you dead?" I asked finally dropping my gun.
