Horror and Thriller Fiction posted January 5, 2018


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Who's There?

by frogbook


The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.











She didn't lock her door.

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Footsteps echoed in the silent hallway as the police entered. There was no announcing that it was the police. The door was open anyway, and they wanted the element of surprise. The neighbor heard the screams, the blows, and other sounds she would never forget, so they knew there would be bad news. Even the seasoned officers held their breath as they looked left and right, guns out before them.

A wet item hitting the floor caused everyone to move forward quickly to the master bedroom, ready to shoot. The item was a hand that had just been hanging on by a string of skin, that finally gave up. It had plopped to the floor from the mutilated person hanging on the wall.

Even Sargent Leland Davis, who had been on the force for thirty long years, did not remember seeing this much carnage.

'Good God, what could cause such rage in a human being?' he thought.

They could no longer even tell the corpse's gender from the now inhuman mass on the wall. Even the hair had been removed--pulled out from the looks of the scalp.

The rest of the house was quickly checked. No one was found.

The landlord said a realty company had rented the property, paid ahead for six months, he said. He didn't ask a lot of questions after that. Now that they looked for the company, nothing could be found on the internet and the phone number was dead.

The Sargent spoke in the tired voice of one who had seen too much over the years. "Call in Forensics. To make this much of a mess, someone had to leave a piece of evidence somewhere."

But, no one had, not a hair, not a piece of fingernail... nothing.

"Must have been a real expert", the photographer with forensics said, shaking his head.

"Must be," agreed his fellow employee taking prints.

With his eyes in the viewfinder, the camera guy didn't notice the small smile that upturned her lips when she replied.

'Yes,' Flora thought, 'the person is an expert, alright, knows all the right places to cause pain, knows where to cut, but knows how to keep things to herself too.'

She finished her evidence gathering, then took off her lab coat.
"Well, off to the gym, and then a good night's sleep. I feel like I haven't rested in days."

Carl, lowered his camera and looked at her well-muscled arms. They seemed almost foreign to her slim build. "Doesn't look like you need to spend too many more hours in the gym."

"Now, Carl, watch those chauvinistic remarks, they can get you in trouble these days," she chuckled.

He watched her buttocks as she walked away.

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Flora worked with this forensics team for another five months, then moved on, far away, where she could start the real work over. Such a kind girl, always leaves the door open for friends.

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Carl disappeared a few weeks before Flora moved; hasn't been heard from since.




 



She didn't lock her door writing prompt entry
Writing Prompt
Write a poem or short story beginning with the words 'She didn't lock her door...' This may stand alone or be a part of a sentence. Maximum word count: 1,000.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.


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