1 The Beginning

The sun shone down from the clouds, warm and bright. The snow draped across the rooftops and roads sparkle like stars in the light. The green oak trees shine, with the sunlight setting the ground aglow. The snow is full and unmarred by human passing, though here and there small paw prints could be seen.

The blue of the sky was whole and pale, beautiful on that winter day. Clouds as white as the snow drifted lazily across the vast expanse of the sky, blotting out the sun only for it to shine again. The twittering of birds and small animals fills the otherwise empty town.

Wreaths of green and red hang on doors, drapes are pulled closed, and doors are locked. For everyone sleeps on this winter morning, there were none to hear the distant screams.

~~

A long gravel lane winds through the trees, snow dusting the small rocks. Lights line the way, small spots of relief from the growing dark.

The windows on this house are open, letting in the cool air and crisp smell of the woods, along with far darker things.

Elegant chairs adorn the wide wood porch, bringing life into the house. Lights hang from the house and are draped across the windows, twinkling in the night. Flame crackles in the fireplace, the warm light, inviting and welcome. A stranger sits before the fire, lounging on the worn velvet couch as if he were home. A glass of whiskey dangled from his fingertips. The rich liquor glowing in the firelight.

A hilt as white as the snow outside lay on the oak end table. A blade shines and glitters in the flames, marred only by the bright blood dripping of the edge. A shallow pool of red stains the beige carpet, soaking into the wood below.

Whimpering sounds from down the long hall, muffled by one of the closed doors. The man ever so slowly turns his head, listening for the sound of a pounding heart. The thud thud thud could be heard, quiet, yet noticeable.

A wicked smile stretches across the man's face, hungry for death. He stretches his long legs and stands without a sound. No sound is heard as he walks toward that long hall. No sound but the racing heart of the child.

Portraits and landscapes hang from the walls of the hall, pictures of a happy family in their forest home. Painting of mountains and valleys. Of deer and fish and rabbits. Photos sit on the thin tables in the hall, photos of joy. Looking at each one, the man slowly pushes them down with a click. One after the other. Until none of that happy family looked up at him.

Thud thud thud went the heart, speeding up the closer he got to the door. Thudthudthudthud. The smell of the girl's fear seeped from the room so strong that it was like a stream, guiding him to the source.

His smile stretched across his face, full of feral thirst and giddy happiness. His black eyes sparkled in the lingering light.

His steps soft, he grew closer and closer and closer until he stood before the door. It was made of a deep red wood that shined with polish. Simple white flowers had been painted on it. The handle was made of the same copper as the one that led to the bedroom of the girl's parents. Placing a gloved hand on the doorknob, the man paused, listening. Waiting.

A hand glided to his side and his fingers wrapped around a black handle. Quiet as a whisper, the blade slid out of its sheath, the polished metal shining in the flickering candle light.

Slowly twisting the doorknob, the man eased the door open, careful not to make a sound.

~~

Her body shook and trembled in fear. She was sure he could hear her thundering heart which had been pounding since he murdered her parents and baby brother. She hadn't heard him until he was in the sitting room, drinking her father's special whiskey. He had been saving it for her birthday.

The door made no sound as he opened it. They always made sure the hinges were oiled so as not to wake the baby. She wished they hadn't done that. Then maybe her parents would be alive…

A thin light spilled over the threshold. His shadow stretched across the room, seeming to reach for her in her hiding place.

He didn't move, his silhouette looming in the doorway.

Her body shook more. She had to clamp a hand over her mouth so the sobs that racked her body couldn't be heard. Tears fell down her face and into her hair.

He took a step. She closed her eyes. His footsteps near silent, he began making his way over to the bed. She curled into herself, trying to not be seen. His feet stopped right at the bed's edge, waiting. Listening.

She opened her eyes just as a light glinted off the mirror on the other side of the room. A knife. Her eyes widened and the sobs grew. Her heart pounded, fear the only thing she knew.

He was going to kill her. She would die tonight. And he would enjoy it.

Her door slid back and he kneeled by the bed. She crept further beneath the frame until her back hit the cold wall. Shivers ran over her skin; her body shook with more than fear and the cold.

She wasn't trying to hide now, she was to afraid of what she knew was coming.

A small thud sounded and her breath stopped. She felt something cold wrap around her ankle and she shrieked as her leg got pulled. Reaching up, she tried to grab hold of one of the boards under the bed, but her fingers kept slipping and sliding, never keeping hold.

The tears kept coming, warm on her chilled skin. The hand on her leg let go and she tried pushing her legs under her but she was shaking too much and fell down again, the cold floorboards stinging her hands. The man grabbed her arms and hauled her into the air. Her eyes widened as she looked down at him, the shadows obscured his face, but she could make out the feral grin on his lips.

He threw her onto the bed with such force that the wind was knocked out of her. Pushing herself up, she tried to get as far away from him as possible, but as if he knew her intentions, his hand shot out and her grabbed hold of her leg, pulling her towards him.

Something cold brushed her fingers and she glances over. The knife was laying on the bed, as if he had no further use for it.

As if some primal instinct over took her, she reached for the knife and right as her fingers closed on the handle--

~~

He saw the girl go for the knife. He saw each movement and breath she took before she lunged. He was tempted to let her get it, but knew it would make this take longer then it had to, so he reached out, so fast it was almost indistinguishable, and yanked the handle out from her fingers.

Her eyes filled with fear and the small spark of hope winked out.

He could see her trembling, and felt his lips tug up into a smile. Oh, how he would enjoy this.

~~

His smile turned psychotic and she started crying again. The force of her fear so great that she shook, all the way to her core.

She hadn't even seen him as he grabbed the knife. It had been in her hand and then… just wasn't.

She hadn't intended to attack him because she knew he was stronger and faster and more skilled than she would ever be; no, she was going to take her own life. It would've been better, more painless, a sacrifice or sorts if she had done it and not let him have the satisfaction.

It didn't matter now. He had the knife and her only option for escape.

He reached out a gloved hand. Dark red coating the leather. That was….that was….

She screamed.

~~

Right as she opened her mouth, he grabbed her arm and yanked her closer, the knife dangling from his fingers.

Screaming, he dragged her across the bed, closer and closer. When he let go, there was a red handprint on her pale arm. The sight of the blood made him remember what he had done to her parents, the joy he had had as they died. His smile grew.

Flipping the knife around in his hand, his grip tightened.

~~

He looked at her with such hunger that she screamed again. She screamed and struggled against his grip. Tears flowed down her face, drenching her hair and nightgown. Light glinted off the silver blade of the knife as it grew closer to her.

The cold of the blade touched her throat and she jerked back, away from it, away from the man, but his hold on her tightened and she screamed in pain.

"Please!" She pleaded, her voice cracking from the sobs. "Please! Please, I beg you!"

She bowed her head, mumbling her pleas. Her shoulders shook with her tears.

"Please," she said again.

She knew it was no use. The way he was looking at her, the way he smiled, he wasn't going to let her go.

~~

The girl's cries for mercy were unheard to the man, his mind full of thoughts on how to end her life. He would take his time, he knew that, but-

The distant sound of sirens cut into the haze.

The girl was still muttering for mercy, did she not hear?

Regardless, it didn't matter, he would take her life before anyone knew she had lived to begin with.

He frowned playfully, as if he were disappointed, and then he smiled, wider than before.

He would make her suffer in the short time she had left. It was the least he should get for being interrupted by the police.

Chuckling he lifted the girl's face with the knife tip. Her eyes were closed, tears leaking down her face. Such a pretty child.

He took the knife, placing it along her cheek; he ran the razor sharp blade across her face, maring the smooth skin. Blood welled over the cut and spilled down her pale face.

~~

She barely felt it as the blade cut into her. She didn't even know he had done anything until the warmth of her blood coated her skin, and the cold sting of the blade grazed her face again.

The tears didn't stop; they mixed with the red of her blood, leaving trails of pink.

She didn't open her eyes not once; not when the pain grew to be unbearable; not when she felt her energy drain; not when she felt her life seeping out with the blood. She kept her eyes closed and waited.

~~

The wood was drenched in the girl's blood. The smooth brown now dark red.

Red footprints led out the open door and into the fresh snow, disappearing between the trees.

The sirens grew louder, closer to the lonely house.

~~

A dozen cop cars pulled into the yard, men spilling out, running around the house, looking for any signs of the murderer.

"Captain!" One of the men yelled. "Captain, over here! I found something!"

A man dressed in dark blue rushed to the yelling officer. "What is it?" He demanded.

"Footprints, sir. I think they're from our guy."

"Good work, lieutenant."

Another man yelled from inside the house, fear and surprise laced the sound.

The captain spun around and ran into the house, toward the yell.

He stopped at a door that sat ajar. He slowly pushed it open, and it swung in without a sound. What he saw beyond that door was something out of a nightmare.

Blood coated every surface: the bed, the floor, the dresser. And in the middle of the floor lay a young girl's body. Cuts covered her skin, her face and arms and legs. No place wasn't covered in blood, bright red blood. A handle glistened from the girl's chest. His eyes widened and he stepped back. One of the officers stood before the bed staring down in horror.

"Captain! There's another one!" Someone yelled from down the hall.

He turned and slowly walked toward the door at the end of the hall. It was open and blackness beckoned from the other side.

He took out his flashlight and clicked it on. The beam of light shone on the massacre of bodies.

Three corpses lay mutilated on the floor and bed. They were similarly cut as the girl's, but it appeared that the murderer took more time and care with them.

The captain dropped the flashlight, shocked by the death of the people. It rolled to the side, and lit up the side of a cradle.

Slowly turning his head, his eyes widened. He backed up, not wanting to see what happened to the baby. He stumbled and hit the wall, the sound echoing in the otherwise empty room.

A cry sounded from the crib. The sound of a baby.

He let out a breath and slowly stepped toward it. He stooped to grab his flashlight. Carefully, he made his way across the room, making sure not to step on any of the evidence.

The baby cried louder and a few of the officers made their way to the room. The captain held up his hand in a gesture to not come.

The crib was small and made of wood. Toys and stuffed animals lined the edge, surrounding a small form. Blankets were wrapped around the baby, as if the parents had tried to hide it before the man came.

The captain scooped up the baby, holding him close. He walked out of the from and out of the house, taking the child away from his dead family.

~~

Fifteen Years Later

~~

The news sounds from the living room, the story of the fifteen year old playing again.

The headline read:

SOLE SURVIVOR OF AUTUMN PASS MURDER ENDS HIS LIFE

And then a video plays:

A boy's stands on top of a building, his arms splayed, head back. Tears on his face. He takes a step forward and plummets to the ground.

A picture shows on the TV screen:

The boy's broken body, blood pooling around him, a smile lingering on his face.

Words: 2450