A rock shattered through the glass sliding doors. A note was on the end, but Jenna didn't hesitate to read it. She quickly got under the table. Only seconds later, a man dressed all in black stepped into the kitchen. Her breaths grew shallow and loud as he neared her. He knelt next to the table and started to look underneath...
She crawled out from the table and sprinted out of the kitchen as soon as his face appeared beneath the table. She screamed for help as she ran for the front door.
She never made it there. With a violent pull, the man grabbed her and snapped her neck. She grew limp in his arms. Although still alive, she wouldn't be for much longer.
When the police came to investigate, one read the note connected to the rock.
"Oh Dearest Jenna,
It's not you, it's me, but you have to die.
From,
Your Ex, Mystery"
"It's a Dear Jane death letter," he told the detective.
"Several women in this area have gone missing after receiving this," another man piped in.
"And where did they show up?"
"Later on, they were found in dumpsters, stuffed in trash bags, or in motels, hidden in sheets."
The next day, her body showed up in a dumpster. Lipstick marks and makeup was all over her body. It wasn't from anyone, just drawn on. She had been stabbed twice in the lungs. Two ribs were broken, and her wrist was snapped. Her neck was also broken. She had been paralyzed. She couldn't have fought if she wanted to.
These killings ceased to an end on Friday the 13th, October. The killer was never found. Yet Dear Jane death notes never stopped terrorizing the small town in Chicago.
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories/Dreams
Short StoryHere's a book of short stories. I'll put in some of my freaky dreams and everything, including other genres such as romance and adventure, and some depressing feel stories. It might be a little gruesome, frightening, or downright mental. Don't call...
