The Serial Killer

Jane Walters was surprised to find her husband watching the news. He liked to watch his comedy shows, or watch romantic sitcoms with her, but that was about it. However, it was a bit hard to avoid the brutal murder that had taken place in their small town.

It was unbelievable, knowing that someone that Jane knew was murdered in such a disturbing way. Her name was Catherine, an office clerk who was butchered to death, right behind her place of work.

It appeared that she had gone for a smoke break after she got off work, and was stabbed 46 times by an unknown assailant. Jane shuddered at the thought, wondering how terrified the poor woman was before she succumbed to her death.

“David? Could you shut off the TV? I don’t want to hear that right now.”

David picked up the remote, and shut off the television. Jane instantly felt her shoulders relax when the news reporter’s description of the woman’s death was cut off.

“I’m sorry. I know how much that scares you. I should have known better.”

David drooped his head, reminding Jane of a sad puppy dog. She ran over to embrace him, placing her head on top of his. David wrapped an arm around her waist, and brought his other hand to hold her own.

“Are you alright, Jane?”

“Sorry, you looked so sad, and I wanted to hold you for a second.”

“My feelings weren’t hurt, sweetheart. I got worried about you. I don’t like to scare you with these types of things…it scares me that something like that happened here.”

Jane let go of David, and plopped on the couch next to him. She took hold of his hand.

“It scares me too. God, I hope the police catch him.”

David traced a finger down Jane’s cheek.

“I promise to protect you.”

“I know,” Jane said with a smile.

“It’s getting late. I’m going to watch TV for a bit before I go to bed. And then since you don’t go to work tomorrow…we could…you know.”

Jane smacked her husband on the arm in a playful manner, and then he pulled her in for a kiss. She gave him another peck on the lips before heading upstairs to get ready for bed. David was whistling to himself as he turned the TV on to switch to another channel.

Jane would rather listen to the familiar comedy sitcom opening and fake laughter from the audience than the news report of the murder. Jane tried to get the murder off her mind as she took a shower.

The warmth of the water relaxed her, and she was able to make the murders in her mind vanish for the time being. She put on her best nightgown, and then threw a rope over it, to surprise her husband when he walked in.

She turned on the lamp by her dresser, and opened a page in her new book she got from the library recently. It was a horror novel, that unfortunately did feature a slasher killer going after college students.

This was a fictional novel, so luckily this wouldn’t bother Jane. Anyway, the kills in this book were so over the top and unrealistic, so it was more hilarious than awful. Jane was reading chapter 7 to herself, faintly listening to the television downstairs.

“Do you ever wonder if the killer is inside the house?,” Charlotte asked.

Charlie scratched his head, staring at his girlfriend in both wonder and fear. She could be hot in a creepy sort of way. But he supposed it was part of the package dating a girl who lived by the cemetery.

“What do you mean?”

“What if the killer is already inside of the house? What if he’s inside of that closet?,” Charlotte pointed at the bedroom closet. Charlie crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to show that Charlotte was starting to scare him.

“That would be stupid. Why would he do that?”

Charlotte leaned in closer. Charlie felt a chill crawl down his spine like a finger tracing his skin. Her eyes were glowing. She was thrilled by this terrifying revelation.

“Because he will make sure no one makes it out alive.”

Jane gasped when she heard a crash downstairs. She dropped her book, and it fell onto the floor. She got out of bed, and ran downstairs.

“David?”

The television was still on. But she couldn’t hear David. This was unlike him. He would have answered her right away. He never liked to worry her. She marched into the living room. A scream erupted out of her throat.

David’s head was missing. His body was sitting on the couch. Blood was splattered all over his striped shirt and the couch, along with a small pool of blood forming at his feet. Jane was hyperventilating, pulling at her hair.

She was dreaming. That was all this was. She fell asleep reading her horror novel, and she was having a horrible nightmare. She screamed when something sharp sunk into her shoulder.

Then that object was pulled out of her shoulder, and pressed against her throat. It was quick. Red splurged out of her throat like vomit. She fell to the ground face down. She began to crawl toward her husband, reaching for his leg.

She wanted to hold him. He promised to protect her. Jane gurgled when the killer grabbed her around the waist to turn her around. Her nightgown was lifted up. Jane felt another waft of pain on her stomach. Her vision was getting hazy, but she could see the killer was stabbing her in the stomach.

Over and over, like an eager puppy digging a hole in the backyard. She died after the tenth stab. The killer didn’t stop; until a huge mess was left behind. The killer stood up, satisfied with the result.

He left through the back door, humming the comedy intro that the husband was watching. It had a good beat to it.

The head of the husband was positioned on top of the kitchen table, where the authorities would find it.

Thank you for reading!

Emy Quinn