Crimson Collapse

Crimson Collapse

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Dec 29, 2021
The immeasurable numbness that can be found in the human mind, nothing can compare to it. It can be the cause of many things, but one thing is for sure, it is the root of the slowly spreading darkness within our hearts. Like a virus, it can kill, spread but most of all it changes the lives of everyone around us. When you are watching a horror or thriller movie, and the so-called bad guy kills the so-called innocent, one of the many questions that get asked is, "How sick in the head does a person need to be to commit such acts of violence?!" That's what we are going to find out. What is it that causes these "monsters" to go crazy, lose their minds? The real question is, is their reason behind the madness or is it simply just for their own sick and cruel enjoyment? Sasha Laurier was a detective working on several cases in the shadier areas of Islesbury. Exaggerating the use of was, because later at night she was found dead, murdered, and left to rot in an alleyway. This was no ordinary murder, whoever had done this had to have performed such procedures before. The way the head lay decapitated on the stone-cold cement, the gruesome but clean cuts that had been made on the lower arms and legs following the veins in an organized, chaos sort of manner. The blinking blue and red lights faded in the background of the crime scene, the oh-so-famous yellow and black tape sectioning this area off from the public in hopes of not causing any panic. Little did Edward Kilmarnock know that the least of his problems would be preventing panic from spreading like a plague. Before we get more into this, it seems as though it is time for a small trip down memory lane.
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#764
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"Crap, sweetheart," Pat's voice was tinged with regret, even as he cupped her face with both hands and began to dust kisses on all the available skin he could find, "I didn't mean to make you cry." Helen sniffled, bringing her hands up to wrap her fingers around his wrists. "I don't think I'll ever deserve you," she confessed, "but I do love you." And how could she not? Pat was more than she could have ever hoped for in a partner. Pat's movements stilled, and he left his lips hovering just over her own. "We'll have to work on the first part of that statement," he mumbled. "The second part, however . . . well, I'm glad, sweetheart. I love you too." And she knew he truly did. *** Helen is proud to be a journalist; she's prouder still to be the writer of her city's favorite advice column. She is not proud, however, of her troubled past, or the fact that she can't get in a car without having a panic attack. And then she meets Pat, who is both a trustworthy chauffeur and one of the sweetest men she's ever known. Between finding new love, healing old wounds, and worrying about a recent murder, how's an advice columnist to cope? *** The rest of this story can be read for free on my website: ardewler.com (no account needed, since making accounts is bleh)

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