The Massacre Cruise

The Massacre Cruise

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Aug 28, 2023
Description: In the summer of 2012, a group of people decided to go on a fun cruise for two weeks. "It is just an exciting cruise, what can go wrong?" Most people may ask. The answer? Everything. It started when the janitor was found dead in the bathroom. Then an innocent girl was found dead in her room. Why would someone do this? Is it because of uncontrollable anger or is it a form of revenge? You will read the different perspectives of passengers on the cruise to know their side of the story. Can you help us solve this murder mystery? Story and Cover by TheArtisticMillie
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'The night was alive with silence. I moved through it like a shadow, black leather gloves tight on my hands, boots soft against the grass. My gas mask hid my face, leaving only darkness where my eyes should be. The world narrowed to a single point: the house ahead. Tonight, it would belong to me. The farmhouse rose stark and white beneath the moonlight, silent except for the occasional grunt of a pig or the low hum of a cow. They were unaware. They were insignificant. I crouched behind the hedge, eyes scanning, senses alert. Every detail mattered: the flicker of light across the curtains, the faint rustle of movement inside, the way a shadow shifted across the floor. She was there. Oblivious. Popcorn in hand, murmuring to herself as the television flickered. Every motion was a note in tonight's symphony, and I was the conductor. I studied her, cataloging. Timing. Patterns. Fear. She didn't notice me yet, and that was perfect. Patience was everything. One sound, one misstep, and it could all unravel. I rang the doorbell once. Silence. Again. Still nothing. She flinched slightly, just enough to make my pulse quicken. Her small reaction was delicious. A sudden movement in the yard caught my eye-a neighbor's dog barking at some unseen intruder. Its voice was loud, startling, but contained. I froze. My breath slowed. Patience. Observation. The dog's curiosity would pass. I remained still, hidden in shadow, letting the moment stretch. The animal lost interest and padded away. Perfect. I moved to the back of the house, hammer in hand.' ...

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