Her Story

1 ~ Ideas

I hesitantly scrolled through the pictures on the website. Each one was more gruesome than the other. The newest one was labeled "Sarah Little."

Her body was distorted in so many ways. It reminded me of Jack the Ripper and his victims. I had done a research project in 7th grade about England, and had discovered the five horribly disgusting victims of the malicious serial killer.

Anyway, I looked at a particular photo.

Sarah's head was twisted about 180° around her body, her elbow was sticking out of her skin, and her mouth was dripping with blood. I cringe. I couldn't bear to look at it anymore.

I powered off my laptop, and closed it.

I stood by my window just looking around, thoughts flowing in and out of my mind.

What if you're next? What if someone you love dearly could get hurt? What if it was someone you knew? Will it ever stop? When will it? When?

I breathe deeply to cool my anger down. I really needed to stop looking at these photographs and articles. It just makes me hit my breaking point.

Who is this murderer, you may ask?

He is known as the "Red-Hand" Killer. On each victim, he leaves a red hand print, usually on the face. Hence the name, "Red-Hand" Killer. It had been three years since the first kill. Three years. It seems so much longer. All of the killings happen right here, in my town Nightingale. It's a small town, in the middle of no where. It is located in the southern part of Wisconsin, along the countryside. My house is located on the middle of Parker Dr. Our town is so small, you'd think that by three years of murdering, everyone would be dead.

The first out of the thirty-five murders was my mother. Lucy Ann Palmer.

After I came home from school, I saw on the floor of the bathroom, my mother, sprawled across the tiles by the shower. My dad working late, I realized that I had to deal with it. I called 911 immediately and they rushed over.

They discovered that he/her broke several of my mother's ribs, and had cut off her tongue, so she couldn't speak. But the most damage done was the wound in her heart after the several stabbing a in that place. I tear up just thinking about it.

~~~~~~~~~~

Being the first day of summer, I decided I wanted to do something to cure my boredom.

I walked around our small town, going from place to place, asking if they needed help, but most people said they wanted none. I somehow wound up at the police station.

I could help find out who the murderer is! But why would they take a puny little 8th grader like me? Questions swirled through my mind. I guess it wouldn't be so bad. And what if I got some money out of it?

Genius idea!

I strolled in casually, then stopped at Officer Davies desk.

He looked up. "Now, what can I do for you Miss Palmer?"

"I'd like a job, to work for you, to help find out the Red Hand killings that have been happened here." Wow, I sounded so cliché, like I was from a detective movie.

"That would be out of the question, young lady! Why would you want to get your hands dirty?" He leans toward me.

"I want to help. Seeing that my mother was the first victim, I just thought I could lend a hand. Now what's wrong with a little girl just trying to help her community?" I smirked.

"You are one head strong girl. You get the job." I smile. "But don't expect to get paid for this." I frown. "Not until you actually solve something."

"I'll take you up on that offer. Thanks!" I run out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey Emma!" I say to my friend. "I just got a job as a 'detective,'" I make air quotes with my fingers. "It's still worth it, even if I don't get paid."

"That's awesome! So when do you start? Can I help?" She says excitedly.

"Sure, why not?" I smile.

"Emma, dinner's ready!" I see Mrs. A, as we call her, leaning out the door of their house.

"See you later!" I wave as she runs over to her house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma's POV

"Honey, we're going out tonight, remember?" My mom smiles sweetly.

"I'm not dumb, I remember." I say, half regretting it after it comes out.

"Lock the doors, and the windows, don't let any strangers in, don't answer the phone unless you know who it is and-"

I cut her off, "Mom, I'm going to be fine! Chill."

"Okay, we're off!" She and my father go out the door.

~~~~~~~~

"Now let's go get your daughter!" I hear Poltergeist on in the other room.

I immediately turn it off. I don't like being home alone with horror movies on.

Creak. Click clack click clack.

I spin around.

Nothing there.

I hear the same noise again. Yet I see nothing.

I hear it for the third time and then a voice that follows, "Shhh, Emma, don't be afraid." I tremble with fear.

"Hush little baby don't say a word." The sound grows louder and louder. The voice get more demonic each syllable.

"Don't be afraid." I feel a tap on my shoulder.

Then everything goes black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amy's POV

Sirens are all I can hear outside. I open up my window, to see an ambulance and several police cars outside.

At 5am, I groggily stood up and threw on a sweatshirt.

"Dad, what's going on?" I rub my eyes.

I realize he's probably outside.

I open the door, and rush over to Emma's house.

"Officer Davies, what's going on?" I tremble.

"Stand back kid," he pushes me back.

"No, is it Emma? If it is I need to see her." I push my way through the crowd.

I look over to see Emma, on the floor, with a red hand on her face and a note.

I look at it.

You see what happens when you try to find me? She barely did anything. I am capable of so much. Any one who tries and find me? They're next. Good luck Amy.

~~~~~~~~

Hey guys!

I kinda scared myself while writing it XD! I hope it turned out well. I'm sorry if it seems rushed, I'm really trying. Vote, comment and follow! And spread the word about this story!

-Toria :)