Song Stories (Part 1)

Overture

20XX/10/XX – Night

It was already past eleven when Melinda left the hospital. Visiting hours were long over. However, as usual none of the staff seemed to care about her not abiding by the rules. As long as she didn't bother other patients or get in the way of her sister's treatment, she was allowed to stay for until whenever. At least, that's what the doctor had said to her, when he had found Melinda in her sister's room an hour after visiting hours were over one day. Although, she knew the only reason she got this privilege was because her keeping her sister busy meant that the latter wasn't able to annoy the nurses or doctors.

Lucy, the younger of the two, was a bundle full of energy. Always smiling, always bouncing around happily, doing whatever weird thing her head thought up. Whenever Lucy was bored, she started chatting up people. Whether they wanted to talk or not was none of her concern. As long as they entertained her, helped her pass the time, her sister didn't care about how annoyed her opposite was. Recently, she even started some sort of game. 50 ways to annoy the hell out of someone, that's what she called it. And while staying at the hospital, Lucy had already filled in 27 spots of that list, much to the working peoples' chagrin. Lucy had decided to make them her playing pieces, meaning, as long as she was bored enough to play her game, they got next to nothing of their work done. That's why the doctors were always happy to see Melinda. The blackhead was even once called "an angel sent from heaven" by one particularly stressed-out nurse. One look at the young woman had been enough for Melinda to know that the poor thing had been one step away from a nervous breakdown. Lucy could have that effect on some people. Or anyone, if she just set her mind on it.

Melinda stood under the roofing of the hospital's entrance, looking up at the sky. Small droplets of rain came down in a steady rhythm, glistening in the light of the nearby street lamp. The rain wasn't particularly heavy, but hard enough for one to come home drenched after a 15-minute walk. That was the amount of time it took Melinda to get from the hospital to her apartment.

Thank god I brought my umbrella today.

Putting it up, the black and white striped fabric was immediately getting damp by the tiny raindrops. Seeking cover after putting her headphones on, Melinda started walking down the sparsely lit street at a steady pace. There just wasn't enough money to set up more of them.

Milton wasn't exactly a major city, but it was far from being a village either. Walking the thin line between sleepy, rural small-town and buzzing, modern city made it both attractive for young people taking their first steps into independence and families looking for a safe and cozy place to raise their kids.

Safe.

At least that's what Milton was like until a month ago. Peaceful days that went on and on. A time before the murder spree started. Four victims counting, so far. All brutally murdered. Cut with a knife a dozen times, before finally getting released from their pain via a slice through the throat. A messy way to die.

As usual these days, the police had absolutely no clue about anything. There were no major leads, no suspects, not a single piece of useful evidence left behind by the killer.

Or was there?

Well, they knew 3 things – but so did the public.
First: All the victims were young women in their mid-twenties till early thirties.
Second: All of these women had dark blonde, shoulder long hair.
And third: They had all been kidnapped at night in the southern part of the city.
These were all the useful information they had. Useful - for when one wants to analyze the chances of being targeted. But not exactly handy for when it came down to hunting the culprit. At least that's what the people kept saying.

However, unlike most citizens, Melinda didn't think the detectives assigned to solving the case were completely incapable. They had to have some information. Something they just didn't enclose to the public, as it would either only fuel people's fear and agitation or would alarm the killer. In some cases, it just wasn't a good idea to let the murderer know that you were onto him. It could lead to him disappearing forever or committing an even more hideous crime than he had already done.

Not that Melinda was an expert or anything. She was just one of those people who loved crime shows. And although she knew, of course, that real-life police work was nothing like the stuff depicted on TV, there was one thing she liked to apply to reality: The criminal getting caught. However stupid or far-fetched the process of the investigation was, at least the culprit always got what he deserved. Well, almost always.

Melinda wanted to believe real-life police was also capable of catching every monster that terrorized Milton and its citizens – just like the characters in her favorite shows.

Maybe that's why she still naively kept on walking home from the hospital alone, like she had always done. That and the fact that she didn't match the killer's prey. Sure, she was 32 and therefore in her early thirties. Her hair however, was neither blonde nor at shoulders length. The one who fit that description to a T was Lucy. Adding on, Melinda lived in the eastern part of Milton. With the hospital located in the north-east she was far away enough from the murderer's hunting ground. At least that's what she told herself and the people around her, who kept nagging her to drive the way home with her car or take a taxi.

Melinda brushed them all off. She didn't want to take the car for a mere 15-minute walk. Pollution was high enough already. On the other hand, the young woman didn't want to be a burden to the doctors and nurses who kept on offering her a ride home, so she declined every single one of them.

As a result, most of the hospital's personnel had already given up on trying to change her mind, but the same thing couldn't be said about Lucy. Her sister wasn't happy at all about Melinda's stubbornness and reckless behavior. She kept on nagging the older one every time she visited. And knowing Lucy, she wouldn't stop any time soon, even though her words were hitting on deaf ears. The last few days Lucy had tried a new approach, namely telling Melinda all kinds of horror scenarios that could happen to her if she kept on walking home alone at night. While those didn't exactly scare her, it wasn't particularly nice to hear your own sister talk about gruesome ways to murder oneself either. So, she had caved in and had bought the pepper spray Lucy kept on recommending to her, in hope it would ease her sister's mind a bit.

Good thing Lucy didn't know how her sister walked home. If she knew about Melinda listening to music while walking, effectively blocking out all of the noise around her, she would definitely go apeshit crazy.

Melinda had always gone home that way and not even once did anything bad or unpleasant happen to her. To the contrary, listening to her favorite songs while walking through the night made her feel safe, no matter how many of the sparsely placed street lamps were flickering ominously. The gusting wind blowing through the trees, making the twisted branches creak, or the little mouse that caused the rustling in the bushes didn't bother Melinda. She couldn't hear it after all.

But neither could she hear the staggering footsteps that followed her today. She didn't notice them taking up speed, coming ever closer. She was oblivious to the rustling of the piece of cloth in that gloved hand. What she did register was the sweet smell that slowly made its way up to her nose as the cloth was suddenly pressed on her mouth. A smell Lucy had spoken about in one of her horror tales. A smell that burned itself into Melinda's mind as the world around her started to spin. The last thing she heard were the first lines of the song that had just started playing on her phone. Then everything went dark.

Just Sleep, just Dream

Just Sleep, just Dream

Just Sleep, just Dream

NateWantsToBattle - Nightmare