Case of reporter's eyes
"The investigation has been on going, for months now. With very little clues, as to what really went down. All the victims had one thing in common. The eyes have been removed, by an object, that is currently unknown" The female reporter on the current scene said. It was all over the news, starting in Germany, and now in America.
A short figure of about, four foot nine, stood in front of a shop selling televisions. Their eye watched the female talking about the scene, discovered moments ago. "The most common thing to the crimes is, well, are we allowed to say this on the air, Jim? Okay I will. It's the fact, all victim's eyes have been gouge out. The true cause of death is not known just yet. But it is possible that the killer is of French origin." As she continues to speak, the camera pans in on something written in blood on the wall, behind her.
"Ces beaux yeux, je dois prendre pour moi-même." Is what was written on the wall, in French. The camera man must of pointed it out to the reporter, because she slowly turned around and gasped. She flagged an officer on the scene down and pointed to the wall, behind them. It seemed he was going over to check it out. You could already tell the blood was, still wet, it glistened in the light. She shivered, her face had paled visibly, from the shock. Her soft deep green eyes wide with horror.
"Just in, our station has managed to find a translator. The writing on the wall be hind me is 'Such beautiful eyes, I must take for myself.' Officer, do you have any comments at this time?" She asked turning to the young man. He held his hand up blocking the camera from his face and spoke in a deep tone of voice. "No comment. Now leave, so we can finish this in peace." And with that the news team, had packed up and left.
The figure smirked to themselves, as they walked away from the store. They had been stalking the reporter, for some time now. Her eyes are just perfect for their collection. Once they had a prey they wanted, nothing could stop them. They had been, just randomly killing people with pretty eyes, to lure her out. They enjoy watching her face contort in horror, her eyes widen in fear. It made them, pleased, that they found their next fun victim, to play with. And with a new fresher victim, killed in the same Gorey fashion as the last, they hoped the reporter will be sent out once more.
"Jim, you have to pull me off. I think the killer is stalking me. No, it's just odd how that translated. Fine, I'll keep doing it." She had grumbled into her phone. It's been hours since she did a report, so she's at a local bar relaxing. Of course the figure that's been stalking her, was there watching intently. They slipped over, offering to buy her a drink. She being used to getting hit on, agreed. After a few hours, they managed to lure her out of the bar, and into the alley. A sharp metal object shone in the light, as they pulled it from their belt loop. "Tu n'as pas écouté mon avertissement, tes yeux sont maintenant à moi. J'apprécierai ceci, beaucoup. S'il te plait fais crier pour moi." They spoke in a husky french accented voice.
Her eyes widened, when she heard him speaking in French. They smirked watching her reaction, it brought them joy, to see the fear dancing in her deep green eyes. He inched closer to her, moving to pin her arms against the wall. She let out a scream, that was drowned out, by the music in the bar. Oh how they took the time to slowly wedge the ice pick 's sharp edge, into the corner of her right eye. As the tip slowly slides in, blood mixed with tears. She begging for mercy and release from this torture. But they just continued, to dig it further in, until a sickening pop, is heard. The eye was popped out of the socket, blood pouring down her face. She screamed and whimpered in agony, her eye just hanging from the optic nerve.
They lifted their hand to the eye ball, yanking it, from the socket. They so enjoy the screams from her. They held the eye up, gazing into it. "Oui." They spoke just once more, before repeating the process once more, with her other eye. Before finishing her off, stabbing the blood soaked pick, through her chest, pounding it, into her heart. They smirked in satisfaction, hiding the eyes into the empty broken socket of theirs. The reporter was now tomorrow's news, and she did get the fame she always wanted. Too bad her boss never, listened to her pleas.