Prompt 3: Murderer

Prompt: Pick a name, a place, thing and an emotion and write a short horror story about it.

Name: Megan.

Place: Tennessee.

Thing: Axe.

Emotion: Grief

Dedicated to Gbolahan (G-easy/Gbolisky)♥

*****

It was the smell that woke her this time. That tangy, fishy smell.

It was in the air and whether she liked it or not it was there to stay.

It clung to everything- her clothes, it clung to the boxes and gas barrels that seemed to have been abandoned for who knows how long.

The mouldy rocky floor was filled with the clothes and belongings of the deceased.

Megan was locked up in some kind of underground warehouse.

It was dark and humid. She could barely even see her hands in front of her. It had rained the night before. Drops of rain were slowly seeping in through the cracks of the floor above her.

She was cold, hungry.

Counting the days here, made no difference. All the days have long since merged into one.

The smell was getting worse. Usually, the bodies didn't spend more than a day before he disposed of them.

The last victims had been a couple. They had been hiking through the lush Cherokee Forest, in the state of Tennessee.

They were a happy married couple who enjoyed exploring, a love they both shared long before they even met.

As veteran hikers, they knew all the spots to avoid— landmarks with wild animals and possible wild humans and the right places to visit.

They had come prepared intent on thoroughly enjoying all the beauty of nature that one could only find here in Tennessee.

They didn't know that that would be the last hike they would ever make.

They didn't know the person that had been hunting them was a born killer adept to his environment.

Megan was the victim he had kept the longest. Possibly the first person he kidnapped.

The couple were his third and fourth victims—at least the ones she knew of.

The first he'd killed had been her best friend. She had watched as he'd hacked her to pieces.

She could still see the frozen look in her eyes as the life slowly left them.

The killer had turned to her to continue to job but then he had taken one look at her and had uttered a word so eerily it sent shivers down her spine.

"Sister."

After that, he had left and ascended the rickety stairs leading out of the old warehouse.

He had left her there with the body of her friend for two days before he came back to dispose of it.

The killer was a tall burly man. Always dressed in black, boots, a mask and a pair of gloves.

His face was always kept hidden under the face mask.

Megan could imagine what was underneath, probably a scarred ugly face.

Tennessee was supposed to be a peaceful state and never in her life would she ever have thought she would be kidnapped in broad daylight.

She could hear the shuffling of feet above her.

It was two pairs of feet. One pair was heavier. One pair was struggling against the other. Suddenly, there was a thud, the sound of something heavy hitting the ground.

The door to the warehouse opened up and much-needed air came in and for a few seconds, she could breathe.

At the killer's feet just at the edge of the opening of the warehouse was an axe. It was freshly coated in blood.

There was an unconscious man at his feet. Without so much flinching, the killer kicked him into the dark abyss below where she was waiting.

The unconscious man dropped with a loud thud to the floor right beside the bodies.

She was praying so hard for the killer to just turn around and leave but then he stayed and continued to stare at her, she broke out in a cold sweat.

He grunted at her. She jumped.

He'd never spoken, not even once, nothing more than the scratchy 'sister', from the first day he kidnapped her. It made her even contemplate the fact that he was mentally impaired to a degree.

But who would let their family go on a killing spree like this? They must be wealthy.

By now, you'd think the police would have found them.

But it's been weeks. Tears welled up in her eyes as she remembered her own family.

Every single time the killer's focus was on her, it was like she was walking on a thin sheet of ice.

"Sister" He said through the face mask again but like always she said nothing.

He was staring at her for far too long. She no longer cared if he didn't dispose of the rotting bodies, she just wanted him to leave.

Seeming like an answer to her frantic prayers, he soon backed away and shut the door.

The door closed with a thud followed by a series of locks being fastened to the door.

There was a soft groan beside her.

She gasped. The unconscious man!

He was still alive!

The man the killer had brought in was still breathing. She was surprised he had no wounds. The blood stains on his axe prior must have been from an animal or another victim from this man's group.

Megan brushed the hair back from his face to reveal a young handsome man.

He was wearing a flannel shirt and some sweatpants. He was probably one of those campers that normally camped in the forest. He looked like a college student. She could already guess what happened to his friends.

"Hey, hey. Wake up." She shook him frantic.

She didn't know what her chances are but as far as she was alive, she would do everything she could to escape even if that meant teaming up with a man she just met.

"Hey."

"Hm." His eyes fluttered open to reveal baby blue eyes.

Blood was trickling from the top of his bead where he had been hit, possibly by the but of the axe.

She was just glad he was still alive.

Upon understanding the situation and realising where he was, he scrambled to his feet.

"No, no, no, no..." He said over and over like a mantra.

"You're okay. You're fine. We're going to get out of here." She had no way Of guaranteeing that.

He hadn't noticed the hacked bodies beside him before, but when he did, he ran to the side and hurled his last meal consisting of beer and some marshmallows.

The killer usually gave none of the victims food before he killed regardless of how long he held them hostage. That way when he played with them there would be no strength to resist.

For days they kept each other company.

They've long since exchanged names.

"Dan, are you okay?"

She held a hand to his forehead. His lips were chapped and he was coming down with a fever. He was thirsty.

She took some of the water they had gathered over time. It was water that had seeped through the leaky door above them.

"Come on, drink."

On occasion, the killer did feed her but the meager scraps were nowhere near enough to satisfy both of them.

He coughed up the water.

"Thank you, Megan."

"He's going to come for you soon," she told him.

That was what he did to those he keeps lives. He gives them a false hope of escaping and then hunts them down.

Dan stared at her face which was caked in dirt from being kept in such a poor condition for so long.

Her blue eyes were shown with nothing but kindness and compassion. Her blonde hair had turned brown from all the mud and dust.

"You're so strong. I wish I was as strong as you."

He felt her sadness and pain. She was teary-eyed. He sighed closing his eyes briefly.

"I know, I know." He knew she was sad for him. He would be back anytime soon and would soon release him only to hunt him down.

Megan didn't know when she started sobbing.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't witness any more deaths. She couldn't bare the thought of him becoming nothing but a clump of flesh thrown in here the next day.

"I'm coming with you," she told him.

"No Megan, stay alive. You need to stay alive."

The door above them creaked open boding doom upon them both.

Both their blood froze.

The killer saw Dan in Megan's embrace.

'Sister?"

In a fit of rage with his axe raised, he ran down the stairs.

He tripped on a piece of rotten wood and fell face-first into an exposed nail.

"R-Run!"

Both of them quickly took to the steps and ran for their lives.

Megan's legs have been asleep for so long that they immediately buckled when she tried to stand.

With all his might, Dan hoisted her up in his arms and made a run for it.

They ran for as long as they could, till they both dropped tired.

Dan was burning up. He was wheezing.

She crawled to where he was. Luckily there was a brook nearby. She tried her best to cool his temperature down.

"Megan, leave please run. I'm not sure the fall killed him. Try to stand. Please."

"No, we leave together...or we die together."

There was a sudden silence in the air.

Everything stilled. She had a terrible foreboding.

She felt the chill before she heard it— the grunt.

No, no, no, no!

She heard the rustling of leaves. She turned behind her.

"Stay away!"

The killer had a five-inch nail sticking out of his eye.

He seemed unfazed. He wasn't human.

With the axe in his right hand, he lifted his left hand and pulled out the nail successfully pulling out his eye along with it.

The killer threw both eye and nail to the floor, took the axe and walked over to where the two of them were. He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her away from Dan screaming.

A force held him back as the killer tried to drag her further away.

"Let her go."

Dan gritted out holding the killer by the leg.

"Dan no, please let go," Megan cried struggling with the killer's hand in her hair.

She turned to the killer. She stared into the hollow socket and nearly wretched.

"I'll be your sister, I'll follow you back, please just let him go!"

But the killer was faster. With the accuracy of a seasoned hunter, he struck Dan's arm and succeeded in decapitating it.

Dan's scream resounded through the forest. Hooting owls flew off into the distance startled by the sudden cries.

The cries didn't stop, he kept hacking down on him. First his shoulder, then leg, then chest then finally he went for the head.

"Run." That was Dan's last word.

Megan's mind went blank. She didn't know what happened after that.

By the time she came to, she was already out of the forest.

She was surrounded by policemen and an ambulance. She was staring wide-eyed. Everything slowed in motion.

"Ma'am, are you okay? We've found her!"

"What?" She raised a hand to block the ray of the sun.

She was covered in blood and holding an axe.