10:41 pm, December 13th
Lyndhurst, The New Forest, Hampshire, England.
Winter's first snow covers the moonlit grass. Four boys quietly make their way across the snowy path for the woodland ahead. It is a surprisingly bright, cloudless night and the full moon showers its cold, silvery glow over the subdued landscape. It is eerily tranquil. The only sound, the crunching snow underfoot as the party walks onward.
A string of recent murders has plagued the sleepy village of Lyndhurst. The locals are intrigued and terrified in equal measure. The local police have little to go on. But one thing is certain; a serial killer is on the loose and becoming bolder with each attack.
Nine dead bodies, three in just the past two months is the latest tally. All discovered in the woodlands. All killed in the dead of night. The victims, mostly young, fit and healthy, all found sporting the same deathly features, terror-stricken faces, pale glazed eyes, and mouths gaping wide open in silent rictus screams, their necks peppered with puncture marks. All of them bloodless kills. No theft. No footprints. No fingerprints. No incriminating evidence left behind. No photo fit to jog memories, no eyewitnesses, and no clues. The police don't even know if the culprit is man or beast?
The perfect murders, perfect, except for the victims.
YOU ARE READING
The Nightwalkers
Teen FictionMurder. Misfortune. Mistaken Identity. A spate of horrific murders has left the residents of Hampshire's New Forest terrified and vulnerable. Each kill site is clean, with not a drop of blood anywhere. There's not even a finger or footprint to inves...
