Bloody Memory 2.0

Prologue

A shadow runs across the street. Another pursues her. One is predator, the other prey. Like a wolf after a frightened lamb. But who could this worry? Those who don't know only see two dark silhouettes. Why get involved in other people's affairs when you're so comfortable at home...?

It was night. It was very windy and people were hurrying home. The gutters were overflowing on all sides, the ground was slippery. A perfect atmosphere for playing cat and mouse... Poor mouse...

What a view. All it takes is for the cat to pull out its claws for us to forget all the mouse's crimes. This little thing so weak and fragile... defenseless. Who wouldn't pity her?

In this case, we are not talking about a snow-white mouse cleared of all accusations. And a frankly black cat, with the gait and aggressiveness of a panther.

The mouse is named Tom Davis. He runs but knows that nothing will stop his destiny from happening. Hidden at the corner of a wall, he breathes, trying to catch his breath without making too much noise.

The panther passes in front of him, he holds his breath. She walks slowly, no one hears the sound of her footsteps amid the chaos of the drops breaking on the surface of the ground. She is waiting. A sign, a noise. Tom is inwardly jubilant. He is saved. He just has to hold his breath for a few more seconds, just a few seconds... And he chokes. His overly prolonged race was fatal to him. He gasps, unable to hold back any longer. His forty-year-old smoker's lungs have nothing to do with it, let's imagine.

Nothing but a breath, a sigh, a whisper. That's all our panther needed. In the shadows, we can see the smile stretching her lips. Dinner is served.

***

In this winter evening where the elements are unleashed, a young woman walks. She is elegant, and men turn as she passes. Proud, her head is straight. The drops bounce and slide down her hair, but it doesn't matter. A gentleman lightly touches her arm, offering her his umbrella in exchange for her number. With her best smile, she declines the offer. She barely feels the cold seeping through her clothes.

She reaches the door of a huge apartment, and enters. She climbs the stairs leading to the fifth floor. A burgundy red door stands in front of her. At her feet, a doormat marked "welcome home" hides the key that will open her lair. She enters and happy, nay, fulfilled, throws herself on her bed. She turns her head towards the wood stove which warms her, and in her splendid green eyes, the flames dance. Her face lights up and her teeth shine, in a mysteriously disturbing smile.

A vibration interrupts her contemplation. On the bedside table next to her, a telephone buzzes. Without losing her smile, she enters it and unlocks the code. Her voice is cheerful and fluid, when she says only a simple
''Hello ?''

On the other end of the line, a deep voice asks her only one question. The question that means so much and nothing at the same time. This question has infinitely variable answers. But without knowing why, we all know the answer.

- So ?

The woman's smile intensifies. Her physiognomy is transformed. She no longer looks like a charming young woman. Just a beast with a predatory smile. She lets out a chuckle and responds...

- Work completed.

***

It was night. It was very windy and people were hurrying home. The gutters were overflowing on all sides, the ground was slippery. A perfect atmosphere for playing cat and mouse... Poor mouse...

The corner of a dark alley. Alley known to be the largest garbage container of the neighboring factory, FishNCo. Filled with waste bins, this alley is always avoided. An unpleasant and too strong smell of fish reigned there. They were only emptied every three months, which left plenty of time before the sordid scene that had happened there was discovered.

Yes. At the corner of this dark alley, on this rainy night, we see a silver glow. And if we get closer, we can admire this splendid knife, engraved T-D. And by shining a light on it, we could see so much more. Huge, hidden secrets. But for now, let's just admire the scarlet puddle in which the handle of this knife is bathing. The naive would probably say ''An accident?'' but clairvoyants would say ''Murder.''

And the most curious would move forward. They would see the streaks of red, sticky liquid, coloring the paving stones. They would dare to venture further, among the dumpsters with their foul smell. They would understand that a tragedy had occurred, a body moved. And they would follow the tracks. Too shocked to realize what they are doing, lost in knowing but wanting to ignore what they will discover.

And they would go into the alley. And probably even madness.

Because at the bottom of this forbidden place, in the middle of the putrid scent of decomposing fish, another smell, more tenuous, but nevertheless present, floats in the air. And it is with horror that you would see an arm, swinging helplessly, hanging outside the farthest container. And all along this arm, winding like a trail of ruby ​​rain, flowing down this hand to finish at the tip of the index finger, the race ends, with a single, one last, tear of blood. Which will end up stranding on the ground, and will be diluted in the middle of a puddle.

But that wasn't supposed to happen. No one was to find out. Garbage trucks would have picked up the waste, out of habit, without even looking. And everything would have ended up in the neighboring town's landfill. No one would have ever known.

Error. Because two weeks later, Ralph Carpen, the little new, would take charge of this alley. And within an hour, the whole town knew about Tom Davis' bloody little murder.

The glistening knife was picked up by an unknown hand. But remember one thing: evil never sleeps. But not necessarily where you think.

(Okay, for the little explanation - I'm trying to make a perfect work so I rewrite the chapters several times and in several ways. I will choose later what will be best. Don't hesitate to give me your opinion by telling me what you prefer! <3)