A Prophet's Tale: A Collection Of Short Stories From A Twisted Mind

The Attractions Of Youth

When we walk through the halls of our dull and uneventful lives all we see in those we bump arms with is the number of friends they hold. This determines who we are, who we become, what we do, and how we do it. Our posts tell people what we want them to know. @tashjac0bi (1290 followers) lived her life by this parable. Her eight Instagram photos, presented to me in my research, revealed that she lived her life half-naked, either in underwear or a bikini. Her life was made by either lazing about with 24/7 perfect make-up and gorgeous blonde hair or having the #besttimeofmylife at parties where she could be seen cuddling with a new male companion. I was surprised that her disappearance did not happen sooner.

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Two of her inner circle friends had approached me two days earlier in person, however, this was only due to my absence on all social media. In this meeting, @brookeoneil2 (897 followers) and @holly._.little (923 followers) presented me with their conundrum. Their leader had lost seventeen of her one-hundred-and-thirty-four Snapchat streaks. Upon learning this I proceeded to heavily criticise the girls for asking me to investigate the believed 'murder' of their friend due to the fact that she had forgotten to send a fucking photo. I only ever accepted the case due to the promise that both of them would endorse my blog on their respective accounts.

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My first move was to learn about my subject the best that I could. Gathering a listing of all the accounts she owned, I endured scrolling through her history (likes, followers, comments) on Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook, Pinterest, Tumblr, Twitter, Youtube, Omegle, and Kik. I compiled a chart grouping those followers who were present in a post, those who went to our school, those who she was family friends with and spam accounts. My investigation brought me to one account which did not fit any category. @gregdaniels🔥🔥🔥 (36 followers) presented himself as a 17-year-old from Connecticut with marvellous abs and a perfect jawline in his profile picture. This account was the only one under 100 followers and the only one with 0 posts.

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The direct messages shared with the suspect had shredded some light upon his relationship to my victim. Constant and non-stop flirtatious messages and revealing pictures had been shared between the two. I am sure, however, that @gregdaniels🔥🔥🔥 has played a part in the disappearance.

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Against my better judgement, I had forced myself to create an online Mr Hyde. My caricature would be similar to that of my subject. This persona presented itself in the form of @tyreladurden54 (1234 followers). I would soon despise myself for allowing my mind to fill its innocent sense of being with the revolting nature of fake interaction and using a dual identity to fool my suspect. My feed was full of stock images of the same teenage girl acting 'slutty' and advertising her body. I soon became the second following account of my prey. My messages with 'him' were platonic, with a few subliminal flirtatious hints spread throughout. The replies I earnt reciprocated this initiative. Days of back-to-forth dialogue followed, nevertheless, my knowledge of who 'he' really was, what 'he' did with the missing girl, or 'his' location was not expanded.

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@gregdaniels🔥🔥🔥- 3 delphonie pl new parklands. meet me?

@tyreladurden54- OK.

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I ventured across the cobbled street of the friendly, yet quiet cut-and-paste neighbourhood on which my final fate would be determined. The family homes which enclosed my field of vision were as boring and dull as one might expect from a town whose biggest event was the continued celebration of their local football team's only title win. I made my way to the dark spot in between the row of perfectly manicured brick townhouses. As I opened the rusted gate into the jungle-length front lawn, my eyes made their way across the top of the house and into the only window which had not been covered by a thick layer of wooden planks or cardboard sheets. The seemingly floating yellow eyes which eerily stared back at me presented a sense of fear in me, one which I had never felt before, however, at the same time seemed to lure me closer towards them. As I carefully placed one foot after the other on the blackened wooden steps leading to the entrance, the door flung open as if by a ghostly force. The devil had invited me into the darkness and I had accepted. The interior was covered by white sheets and the remaining exposed furniture had become home to a colony of varying species. A bang heard summoned my being to proceed up along the dust-ridden staircase. Flashing darkness from the malfunctioning lights above paved the way to the only unlocked room which I had discovered thus far. The only possessions that the small space had acquired was a ripped duvet which rested upon a worn-out, browned mattress and an antique chest which resided under the boarded-up window. I crouched and forced open the rustic lid. An indescribable horrid smell filled the room and red liquid mixed with blond hairs poured onto the already damaged carpet. My scream filled the room as suddenly a forceful hand dragged me through the red elixir by my brunette ponytail onto the mattress. "SHUT UP!" On my back, I kicked and screamed and for the first and last time, I made eye contact with the descendant of Cain which was my attacker. The voice and the face of my abuser were familiar. I had seen it in one of my former subject's posts. I continued my expression of terror as my shoes and skirt were torn off my fighting body. I begged for him to stop. He didn't.

"I was alone. No friends. No girlfriend. No siblings. No parents. No one." He stopped undressing me at my bra, but only in order to begin on himself. With tears streaming down both of our faces, my now powerless body was turned so that the exposed springs dug into the smooth skin of my underside. "She was perfect. I loved her, but she didn't love me. So I changed myself and she liked that. She liked him." I stopped crying. "But he was too much for her. Then you came along." A sudden squeal erupted from my mouth, which was momentarily interrupted by the warm palm which abruptly covered it. "Another opportunity for love, for acceptance. Thank you." My entire body stopped. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. Then the darkness came.