Teenage Terrors

Blood, Gallons of the Stuff

From my bag I pulled out the silver flask and sat it gently on the floor for the lid had never fitted on it right and had to tape around it. I then took out a square glass bottle from underneath a loose floorboard and flicked open the lid, then picking up the flask I removed the tape and placed off the lid and stared at the swimming red liquid inside it; I smiled to myself then poured it into the glass square bottle. I licked my lips as it splashed at the bottom and its scent seeping out surrounding my room. Once the flask was empty I took my finger and wiped it around the flash lid then I placed my finger onto my lips and smeared the blood over my mouth then using my tongue I cleaned it off. Yum yum.

My family had given me the nickname 'Vampire Anna' because I have the features of the mythical creatures, dark deep eyes, pale skin and a fascination with blood. If they only knew what I got up to it would be an awesome joke. Oh and in case you are wondering, no, I'm not an actual vampire. I'm Anna Whitelock, I'm sixteen years old and I'm a serial killer, I've murdered more than sixty people but I have one hundred glass square bottles, I still have forty more people to kill then I’m going to have to find more spaces to hide new jars.

I've been doing this since I was fourteen but I started off with animals, it wasn't much fun if I'm honest, rabbits, squirrels, mice and cats are not what I would suggest, dogs on the other can put up a good fight but humans are the most challenging and fun. My first kill was of a homeless freak, this happened just after my fifteenth birthday, I was walking home from a party, my house wasn't far only twenty minutes away and then suddenly he jumped out from an alleyway holding a sharp blade. Of course I was afraid; anyone would be if they were in my situation. But something felt different inside of me, whatever it was making me feel like this was taking over my mind and it rattled me with thoughts of what I could do to this man. In that moment the killer was born.

The homeless freak was taken aback when I grinned widely at him, he thought I’d be frightened and give him money but my eyes proved that wasn’t going to happen, I must have looked crazy for I was sure that this man would turn in run because of the curious way I was acting but he didn't, this man felt extremely brave but unfortunately he picked the wrong night. He charged towards me like a drunk bull and tried to stab the knife into my right shoulder but he tripped over his own feet and landed face first on the hard concrete, I laughed at him hard and was about to abandon the idiot but he had other ideas, he tried to slash at my ankle which I just managed to dodge I glared down at him and stomped on his hand hard, he cried out in pain and I grinned violently, I pressed down harder until he finally let go of the knife I picked it up and what happened next was a moment of madness but know thinking about it, it was a moment of glory.

He lay there groaning, I stepped over him and waited till he got on his hands and knees and once he did I wrapped my arm around his neck and so silently slit his throat. I felt no guilt or shame, in fact I felt powerful, I watched as his blood flowed out of his neck and down his body some gushed onto the pavement and washed down into the drains, for some reason I didn't like it going down the drain it felt like it was being wasted. From my bag I quickly got out an empty plastic bottle and held it at the cut, it filled up to the top and I quickly put the top back on, stuffed it into my bag and ran home before anyone saw what I had done.

That was my first kill, I know it doesn't sound exciting as the other stories but at the time it was a thrill ride. I know that there are others like me who have to kill and their first kills were wonderful, I recently heard about Amber, who had killed her mother’s boyfriend in a fire, she is a genius I would love to meet her one day.

Tonight's kill had almost ended in chaos, my victim almost escaped, people like me are not meant to be caught for if my victim did escape everyone like me would also get caught and our dark and bloody worlds would crumble. My victim was Davy Wilson, he was a monster, no one else knew about his crime apart from me, I choose my victims I don't pick at random. Davy caught my attention when I found his six year old niece crying her eyes out behind a tree, I asked what was wrong expecting her to say that another child had been mean to her but I was surprised when she jumped into my arms and began to cry a river of tears. I held her tightly in my arms and she told me what her bastard uncle did to her. I was disgusted, horrified, her pain was causing the murderer in me to rise; all I wanted to do was protect this little girl. She told me that her name was Sophie and I promised her to sort out her big bad monster. I know that some others like me kill for good those ones still have a little bit of humanity left, mine however; it's nearly gone which was why this kill was so important. This kill would be the kill where I lose all of my humanity.