1968- Face Slasher
The wind cursed loudly as the perpetrators crossed into the sacred grounds. The young couple tumbled, their bodies desperately clinging to each other as passion blossomed alongside bruises. They didn’t seem to care that they were committing unholy acts on holy grounds.
Had the moon shone brighter on the grave beneath them, would their fate have been different?
Neither of them saw it coming.
Its footsteps were as silent as the night. Not even the birds sang to foreshadow their fate, for theirs too could be intertwined.
The grim beast raised its hand, wielding a demented blade, and swung with such power that the youngsters’ lives were snuffed out in an instant.
Grunting, pleased with the sacrifice, the grim beast returned to its stone form on the grave of the late Master of No Man’s Land.
The sun rose, clearing the mist from the graveyard, the beast covered its head with a hood and stabbed the blade into the grave, sealing itself until the next perpetrators arrived.
When the police caught wind of the crime scene, the bodies had already decayed and were bursting at the stomachs.
The worst part of it all was that their faces were unrecognizable. Even the coroner was left dumbfounded.
Slashed with the signature ‘X’, the two youngsters’ faces were crossed out with deep lacerations, leaving nothing but questions and paranoia in Hembridge.
“We’ve got a case for the Face Slasher files, Boss,” Policeman Runt grunted into his walkie-talkie. “And you’re not going to like it—Get out of here!” Policeman Runt charged towards the flash, failing to catch the meddling reporters.
“They’re always hungry for a story, I’ll tell you that much,” he stomped, shoving the walkie-talkie into his pocket. “Seal, block off this area and call Marson. I need her to find out who these kids are, and I want answers now. We’re gonna catch this sick fucker.”
“Yes, Boss!”
Had the moon shone brighter on the grave beneath them, would their fate have been different?
Neither of them saw it coming.
Its footsteps were as silent as the night. Not even the birds sang to foreshadow their fate, for theirs too could be intertwined.
The grim beast raised its hand, wielding a demented blade, and swung with such power that the youngsters’ lives were snuffed out in an instant.
Grunting, pleased with the sacrifice, the grim beast returned to its stone form on the grave of the late Master of No Man’s Land.
The sun rose, clearing the mist from the graveyard, the beast covered its head with a hood and stabbed the blade into the grave, sealing itself until the next perpetrators arrived.
When the police caught wind of the crime scene, the bodies had already decayed and were bursting at the stomachs.
The worst part of it all was that their faces were unrecognizable. Even the coroner was left dumbfounded.
Slashed with the signature ‘X’, the two youngsters’ faces were crossed out with deep lacerations, leaving nothing but questions and paranoia in Hembridge.
“We’ve got a case for the Face Slasher files, Boss,” Policeman Runt grunted into his walkie-talkie. “And you’re not going to like it—Get out of here!” Policeman Runt charged towards the flash, failing to catch the meddling reporters.
“They’re always hungry for a story, I’ll tell you that much,” he stomped, shoving the walkie-talkie into his pocket. “Seal, block off this area and call Marson. I need her to find out who these kids are, and I want answers now. We’re gonna catch this sick fucker.”
“Yes, Boss!”
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