I spy with my little eye. ||on hold||

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

"I dread the beginning of her new life more than words can tell, but I see some hope for her if she travels-none if she remains at home"

-Wilkie Collins

* * *

Run, that's all I could think.

My heart pounded in my ears and my legs burned from running. I could hear the sound of his shoes against the cobblestone, echoing loudly against the empty alley walls. A full moon shone in the dark cloudless sky and the wind blew my hair gently.

I stopped for a moment to catch my breath but that was all he needed. I felt a cold hand rest on my shoulder and grip my it tightly. Another clamped over my mouth, preventing me from screaming. I fought against him but he was too strong. He dragged me down one of the side streets and shoved me against the wall.

I stood frozen with fear as he raised his finger to his lips, signalling me to be silent. My breathing hitched as I saw the revolver in a holster on his hip. It was pressed against his side, mocking me. It was obvious I wasn't getting out alive.

Tomorrow they would find my body, bloody and mangled like the others. My throat would be slit and a bullet would rest in the centre of my forehead. My poor friends would have the displeasure of identifying my body and I would become another unfortunate victim in a case that was growing stranger by the minute.

I knew I shouldn't have gone out that night: there were broadcasts all over the news warning pretty blondes like myself to stay inside. Of course I didn't listen: why should I cancel my plans because of some psychopath? They had named him the 'Back-Alley Killer' respectively. Everyone told me that my wild party attitude would be my downfall; I just never guessed it would be this soon, or in this way.

The killer slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. The blade was silver and curved like a scythe and the handle was black with ornate designs and jewels. He gripped it tightly and raised it to my throat. I swallowed slowly as silent sobs escaped my mouth. He raised his gloved hand and wiped away the tears that were slowly pouring down my face.

I squirmed under his touch and shrunk back into the wall. He leaned close to me and placed a kiss on my cheek. His face was covered by a mask but I could still see his eyes. They were light brown and filled with pity, a serial killer that showed empathy, who knew?

"Please," I sobbed "I promise I won't tell anyone"

He chuckled and rolled his eyes, "That's what they all say."

Suddenly his head snapped to the side and back, "Why don't we just let her go?" he asked terrified.

I looked to see he who he was talking to but there was no-one else around. His head snapped to the side again and I could see his eyes fill with anger.

"Are you stupid? Of course she'll go to the police, they always do!" His voice was gruffer this time.

I didn't understand what was going on, but I figured that maybe he had some sort of mental disorder, like multiple personality disorder. While he was distracted I kicked him hard into the groin and head butted him into the face. I dashed off screaming for help.

"Help please someone help me!"

I heard the killer swear and chase after me, "You moron, look what you've done!"

I made as much noise as possible, banging on boarded up shop windows and on car doors, hoping someone would hear me. My pace quickened as I felt him getting closer, my heart racing with every step I took.