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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1698560-Assasin-In-Shadows
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Thriller/Suspense · #1698560
A killer in the shadows or a figmant of the amagination?
  We all know the shadows scare us. Honestly. Growing up hearing about monsters lurking in the dark? Why wouldn't the unlit places in our lives make us feel a little bit of fear. Here's a story that's tough to decipher which is fact, and which is fiction.

  The Police Station,
  New York, 1:56 AM
  August 21, 2010

  "Damn, I'm down to my last pack of smokes," Marty said, scratching his curly brown hair out of a bit of disbelief, dandriff falling from his scalp.

  "Already Marty?" George, his friend, asked him. "Damn man, I swear to christ you're a regular chain smoker."

  "Yah, yah." Marty said, pulling out a new pack of smokes from the breast pocket in his brown trench coat. Putting an unlit cigarrette in his mouth he grabbed his cheap, blue lighter from his pocket. Lighting his lung-injuring friend, he inhailed a relaxing breath of smoke. "Oh, it's God's cruel joke on us. Something that tastes so good when you smoke it, then keep smoking it and you have a god damn hole in your neck." He glanced over at George, waiting for a response. "Georgey? Hey, Georgey?" He asked, still no response. "Hey! Dipshit! Are you even listening to me!?" He shoved George on the shoulder, typically horsing around like they usually do, except this time it wasn't like the usual game of pushing his friend. As he shoved George, George's head fell off like it wasn't attached to anything to begin with. No blood fell at all, the cut looked so clean and perfect that it was eerie. George's head didn't carry a startled expression, just the same one he had when he was still talking to Marty. Marty stepped back and was about to scream for his dear life seeing his friend's head on the ground at the foot of his body! But before Marty could even give out a breath of air in the form of a scream, a little pinch went through Marty's chest. Before he could figure out what had just happened, Marty landed on the cold, alley way gravel just outside of the police station. Two men were killed, but it seemed like there was no killer to go with the slayings at all.

  Inside the Police Station:

  After about an hour an officer off duty called in the two bodies he discovered while leaving. Detective Richards knew this was a killing all too familiar. Even for his young age of 21, even for dyed-red hair, even for his dark shirt with the Slipknot longo on it, his dark pants, his spiked wrist bands and belt, or even his skull necklace, this goth looking kid was the best of the best. He stood over the two bodies in the corroner's office eating a hot dog and just said, "Daaaamn."

  "Detective, do you know who did this?" The Chief of the police department asked.

  "Well," Richards began, gulping down a bite of his hot dog. "It could be two things. One, these guys could have played a game of let's-see-who-can-pull-a-Chris-Angel-without-actually-killing-themselves in the alley, or two, it could be our little Assassin."

  "Assassin?" The Chief asked. "This isn't a frickin' movie Detective! These guys were murdered by someone and--"

  "Exactly." Richards interrupted. "I've seen killings like this all over the country. It looks like something out of a Jet Li movie or somethin'." Smiling, he laughed a little at that notion.

  "You think this is funny?" The Chief asked, a little steemed.

  "Well, it is just a little," Richards said, biting down more of his hot dog. "But since these killings were close to hear, I'd suggest we get this place locked up nice and tight. It seems like we're spending the night here Chief until we either know it's safe to go out, oooorrrrr I catch the guy."

  "Staying the- You can't be serious!" The Chief said, thinking about getting home and relaxing after a hole day of putting up with this kid's bullshit.

  Richards patted the Chief on the back and said, "Don't worry, it'll be fun! We can even pull out some sleeping bags and have a pillow fight!"

3:39 AM
Lockdown

  The hole police station was on lock down for the time being until Richards said it was safe or he solved the case. Examining the bodies, he noticed something a little odd. "What is it?" The Chief asked, seeing a bit of a discovery look on Richards face.

  "This decapitation wound left behind some big evidence. There's pretty much residue, or whatever the hell you call it, from a sword all the way through the sliced part of the neck." Richards explained. "Now I just gotta see what type of sword it is."

  "How are you going to do that?" The Chief said.

  Richards just stood there. "I have no idea. But hey, at least we figured out the killer is a sword-wielding maniac!" Richards waited for the Chief's response. He loved screwing with the old guy since the first time he met him three cases ago. He learned that the Chief had a very small amount of patience, so he always loved to push his buttons. Every little sarcastic pun Richards made he would trigger the Chiefs furious words like a handgun bullet. Richards still waited for the Chief to answere. "Chief? Are you alright. You don't seem to be--" When Richards turned around, the Chief layed on the ground, his head missing from his shoulders. Richards looked around, his heart racing, trying to find the murderous intruder. Out of the shadows stepped a figure in the shape of a man.

  "What.... Are you?" Richards asked the figure. His heart beating a thousand miles per hour by now.

  "I'm the man you are searching for." The shadowy being said, lifting up his head to Richards. His face was complete darkness, but around his eyes was flesh and bone.

  "Are.... Are you... A... M-monster?" Richards asked, about ready to pee himself now.

  "No, I am not a monster." The shadow man said, taking off the dark around his face with his hand. "I am a man like you." He said revealing his face. He was an oriental man, with dark hair and brown eyes. He smiled at Richards. "You know, you have been following me for two years."

  Richards smiled with the man, thinking he was a little safer. "Umm, sorry?"

  "Don't be." The man said, unsheething a katana from his back. "You won't be alive long enough to regret it."

  The last thing Richards saw was the gleam of a blade coming straight at his eyes. The End....
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