Rewritten version of Sugar and Molasses

Chapter 1: Shriveled Cockcroach

(Someone on Tumblr wanted me to update- and I'm sorry I ghosted all of you once again. I think the primary reason is because I write on Tumblr now and I keep forgetting the stuff I have on Wattpad, so apologies.)

(I know some of you are sick of me (;_;). My brain just doesn't seem to remember I'm in high demand everywhere.)

(I'm not even that good of a writer-)

(Also, just for future reference, AND ILL TRY TO REMEMBER TO UPDATE, I do run like two busy writing blogs on Tumblr, so I probably won't update every week? I'm not sure how my update schedule will go.)

(I just checked my DMs and a few people were FLAMING at me to update or delete the story so yeah...I wish I could give you all a bow, but I can't, so the only thing I can do is say sorry for like 1000x time.)

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You yelp, "WHAT THE FUCK? EW! KILL ME! KILL ME," and jump away as you see a hand in a puddle of blood. Your grimace as your confused mind tries to think of what happened. Clearly, someone was murdered, or badly injured. You glance around to see if there's a presence nearby, your senses tingling with terror. You don't notice anyone, not a single person in the hall. It's still dead silent as if the silence is laughing at your paranoia.

The sight was so disgusting. Not enough to make you want to throw up but it was definitely not a pretty sight. Who even was the victim anyway?

You stare at the apartment number for a moment, trying to remember who the person who lived there was. After struggling to find even a shard of your memory, you recall that the inhabitant was a guy. He was quite a shady person, so you never interacted around him as such. He was maybe a decade older than you.

Nonetheless, who did he upset to the point someone cut off his hand and left it on the floor? Aren't they worried about the police finding them? You don't know. But you shouldn't stand here and wait any longer. You needed to find your phone and get the fuck back into your bed. You were not going to deal with this Addams Family hand on the floor. It was way worse than the shrivelled-up cockroach you found in the corner of the hall.

You turn your heel and speed-walk down the hall, your posture stiffened from uncertainty. You hope someone else will discover the scene and call the police. You were too much of a wreck tonight to go through the process of interrogation. Especially with the lingering anxiety of your phone missing.

You flinch when you open the door, the frosty air nipping at your face. Your body quickly adjusted to the sudden drop in temperatures, as you bury your hands within the holes of your pockets. You walk down the pavement in the direction of the grocery store, careful not to slip on the ice blended into the cement. Your eyes spin around your view as you search for your phone. There's a chance it fell out of your pocket without you noticing.

As you continue your scout for your phone, you notice something glowing within your peripheral vision. You turn your head down the alley, only to stumble upon your phone. It was a few steps into the alley. It was in an eerie spot, but it wasn't far from the light. You dash towards it, picking it up before quickly returning to the clarity of the light. No creepy ass people were getting to you tonight. You have ultimate spidey senses.

You open your phone just for a brief moment, just to see if a friend might have messaged you another concerning thirst trap of their current favourite character. You don't see anything, not a single notification. You sigh and head on your way back to your apartment.

Right as you left, a figure stands in the alleyway, smiling. He takes out his phone from his pocket, starting to type a message as he goes on his separate way. His grin was terrifying, so big that it could be considered maniacal. His silhouette blends into the dark night.