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Short Story Contest [WINNER: SHAYNE LANEY]; Horror/Mystery themed writing contest! Come win some prizes!
Topic Started: May 22 2017, 05:08 PM (656 Views)
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Eternal Dragon


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Calling all DB Summiters
So far we've had an art contest, a poetry contest, and an RP contest!
This time around the contest is writing based, focusing on a horror/mystery theme!
Think Alan Wake, Silent Hill, anything Stephen King... just to name a few examples.

Competitors will write a short story about the town of Pinslow.
This will take place outside of the DBZ universe, so feel free to put your OWN original characters into the story!

Submit your entry below with a Short Story of no more than 1,000 WC.
You may write your stories however you like, but they must include the following 5 items somewhere in them, in some way, shape or form:
  • A black cat
  • Pinslow Manor - the largest building/estate in the town
  • Victoria - a female who lives/lived in the town
  • A full moon
  • broken sign post

    Limit one entry per Character, so make it a good one! (If you have multiple Characters, you may enter once for each of them!)
    1st, 2nd, and 3rd place will each get a fun reward, and ALL are encouraged to participate and try.

    1st Place: Shayne Laney
    2nd Place: Praetorius
    3rd Place: Shiva

    1st Place: +500z, Unlock Pinslow Achievement!, Key to Pinslow Manor: A rustic key, to a spooky place [+10 TP on a thread. One time use], bragging rights!, +Helping the Staff in our next Mini-Game!
    2nd Place: +250z, Tour of Pinslow: A nice tour, of a terrible place... [+5 TP on a thread. One time use]
    3rd Place: +125z, Torn Postcard: A postcard for Pinslow, doesn't look very inviting. [+2 TP on a thread. One time use]

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Hungry like the WOLF!
Something had caught his eye. It was a flash of white. His foot struck the brake as the car jerked to a halt. His headlights illuminating quite a distance ahead; but just out of sight was a person. It was a woman; she was petite, dressed in a white dress that draped loosely over her shoulders. Her hair was pitch, messy, and her face wasn’t visible as she had her head turned somewhat away, as if to avoid looking straight into the lights.

What was she doing out there? That was the first question that popped up into his mind as he slowly drove up toward her, stopping the car as soon as he was directly beside her, “Miss, are you lost? Do you need help?”

She peered over at him, finally turning away from whatever it was she was looking at. Her face was pale, yet what pulled his eyes the most was the woman’s features; her ruby red lips, her bright doe eyes, round and moist as if she had been weeping.

“I’m fine. I was taking a walk, and I heard something.” Her voice was soft, like a whispering breeze, or a soft melodious wind chime singing in the grasp of the morning zephyr.

“Did you need a ride back home?” His eyes traced over her face, over her neck and shoulders; her dress, now that he was closer, actually revealed her shoulders, and was held up by thin straps.

“That would be very nice, thank you. My house is up north, in the direction you were going.” She slid into the passenger seat after he reached over and pushed the door open. She pulled the door closed and sank into the seat comfortably.

“So what’s your name?” The car’s engine purred to life once more and he pulled forward, driving onward down the road.

“Victoria.” The name sounded familiar, though he wasn’t quite sure why; it was gnawing at the back of his mind, where had he heard that name before?

“What were you looking for?”

For a moment she didn’t respond. He almost asked again when her voice cut him off at the pass, “My cat.” She peered out of the window as the car continued to trundle on.

The sky was a pitch black smooth stone; the stars had hidden themselves for the night, refusing to wink down at the area below. The grey-white moon was full and fat in the sky that night. It was the only source of light. There were no clouds; not even one puffy cloud hung in the sky. While some may regard the unusually clear sky with favor, the man driving the rusted up jalopy up the winding stretch of road, which led to the very outskirts of Pinslow, did not see it that way. The utter lack of stars, the way the pockmarked and excessively swollen face of the moon seemed to fill the sky, and the utter lack of even the tiniest breeze sent a strange shiver down his spine that he could not quite explain.

Nothing about that night was normal; not the excessive closeness of the moon, not the lack of blinking starlight, not the strangely clear sky, not the utter lack of a breeze, and not the utter lack of any type of ambient sound. There were no animals out; no wolves or coyotes howling and no birds or bats taking to the air.

His headlights shone on the street before him; once black asphalt, it had faded to weathered grey. The dividing lines had long since vanished into nothingness, and the reflectors were gone as well; what became of them, he did not really know nor could he hazard a guess beyond teenagers with nothing better to do than destroy public property.

The road had taken an upward slope; uphill the car went, chugging and belching and shaking the whole way, as up ahead the amorphous shadow of Pinslow Manor, appearing from around the corner, a behemoth, soon obstructed his vision. His headlights fell across a broken sign post, “Pinslow Manor.”

“Is this where you live?”

“Yes, thank you for the ride home.”

The house looked abandoned. The windows were dark, no lights were on, and no smoke billowed up from any of the many chimneys reaching up toward the sky from the slanted ceilings.

His dark forest eyes were trailing over every window, hoping to see any kind of movement. But he saw none. “This place looks like it’s been abandoned for years. Do you live alone?”

She didn’t answer at first. He tore his eyes away from the house and peered over at her. She wasn’t in the car anymore. The passenger door was open, but there was an impression in the seat; the seat was indented and it was warm. Someone had been sitting there; of course, he had watched her sit there.

“Where the hell?” He turned to look at the house, she was at the door. She had run over there? He opened his door and stepped out of his car. His eyes swept over the area; the darkened driveway, cracked and overgrown with weeds, the gargoyle of a house just looming ominously over the hill, and a black cat sitting lonely by the trees.

His feet crunched on the grass as he walked up to the house. She was still knocking. “I think I see your cat.”

There was something about this place that was off. He looked around again. He looked at her.

“You don’t remember, do you?” Still knocking on the door but talking to him, over her shoulder, at the same time.

“Remember what?” He stood behind her, staring at her shoulders; pale, her hair black, messy.

“This is where you killed me.”

“What are you ...?” He felt something, heavy and slick, in his hand; his eyes lowered down. He had a knife in his hand. At his feet was her corpse; white dress rumpled, pale skin stained, and messy black hair.

WC: 1,000
Edited by Shiva, May 23 2017, 03:39 PM.
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Hello there. And welcome to our story. One of wonder and some little bits of evil. A tale that you not forget and one that may haunt your dreams. And this isn't any tale. It is the tale of Pinslow and the one who made the mistake to go there.

You see, it had been long night. A man in his about mid twenties,early thirties. Had been travelling after a random letter in his post. One stating that he had an uncle. One that owned this estate which this man would now own. It seemed weird to the man, course it would for anyone.

The man shrugged that off, thinking none of it. 'Must be an uncle my father stopped me meeting.' He thought to himself. And what was this man's name I hear you ask? Why his name was Douglas, Douglas Smith.

But Douglas had spent the day packing and travelling.But not before saying goodbye to his sweet young black cat. To finally reach the town of Pinslow. It was late at night by this time, the full moon shinning brightly. Douglas found an inn and spent the night there.

His dreams were peaceful and his sleep was better then he ever had before. 'maybe this town isn't bad' He thought to himself in the morning. He got himself dressed in his normal fashion before heading out. 'Hm...it said something about it being down a long path'

Douglas looked around, searching for this path. Then he saw it, a yellow sandy path. It seemed to go for miles. 'well. Here i go.' With that Douglas started walking along the path till he saw it. The manner, it looked grand with dragon like statues every where. 'woahhhhhh' Douglas thought to himself while smiling. Then he saw it, a broken sign saying: Pinslow Manner.

He soon made his way to the door, Douglas getting excited now. He knocked on the door. Soon a female answered. "Hello, you must be Douglas" She said, her voice calm and sweet.

"Yes. So you must be Victoria." She smiled, "That I am. But please do come in sir. " With that Douglas walked in, and he felt strange. 'huh must be the strangeness of being here. ' Douglas shrugged it off and continued to look round the manner.

Paintings everywhere, in a number of fashion. "I must say. These are some great paintings." "Yes. Your uncle brought them. He loved art you see. He saw something special in each one of these pieces." Douglas smiled, "sounds he was a nice guy." Victoria then smiled. "He was. Fine man. But enough of that. You must be hungry yes?"

At that moment as if on queue Douglas' tummy rumbled. That made Douglas and Victoria giggle. "Ill take that as a yes sir. Come with me. Ill get you some food." Douglas was taken to a table before Victoria came back in with some pork.

Douglas didn't know why but he stared at the meat before then smiling at Victoria. "Thank you Victoria." Douglas then dug in, eating the pork at a quicker pace then normal. Enjoying the pork that had been given.

Douglas couldn't see it but Victoria smirked as she watched him. A smirk you shouldn't expect. But Douglas had no clue after he finished. He wiped his mouth and smiled. "Your a good cook."

"Thanks. My mother taught me." "Then you had a great mother." "Yes. That I did." The day then continued till the sun started to set. Victoria had been showing Douglas around and telling him stories of his uncle.

The full moon was now back. And all so suddenly, Douglas gripped his head. Pain shooting through it that was shown as Douglas winced. Victoria did nothing nor did she say anything.

Douglas fell to his knees as he started to growl. He started to change, his skin turning purple as scales formed. A long tail and wings grew. Douglas couldn't help but smile evilly. Showing sharp pointed teeth. Douglas opened his now red eyes as he looked to Victoria. She was different.

Douglas smirked at that. His old mind gone. A new one replacing it. Douglas could feel the pride surging through him. He was a dragon, a humanoid one. And so was Victoria. That was when laughter was heard.

A man, well dragon in black scales and yellow eyes came out. A big smile on his face. "Welcome nephew. To your new home." Douglas chuckled, he knew now. He understood now. "Thank you Uncle. It feels great to be here. And I understand now. My father kept me away from here. To stop me from finding out about who I was. What a fool he was."

His uncle smirked. "That he was. He couldn't see the greatness that this holds. Every night we transform, and do what our heart desires. Then at a full moon, when we know its time. We invite someone here. To become what our family tried to avoid." With that sound of dark laughter filled the air as all three laughed. No one in Pinslow ever dares to go to that manner.

Scared of the strange way the people in it act. So be careful next time you receive a letter. You be careful when it says your name . For it may be the same letter Douglas got. Signed by Victoria herself. It's a dangerous world. And Pinslow, is a place you should hope you will never find. Otherwise you may see that manner. And meet the ones that only seek to turn you. This was the tale of Pinslow Manner. And let's hope, you do never see it for yourself.

Your Narrator.
Douglas Smith.

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It was dark, foreboding even. The night was young but yet it felt as if it was already a eternity of the blacken sky. The full moon did nothing to brighten the mood of the new owner of the Pinslow Manor. The townsfolk of Pinslow said that it was cursed, that it would drive anybody who lived in it to madness. The owner did not care at the time. The decision that the wealth he could get by renovating this accursed place outweighed any form of actual reasoning at the time of the purchase. Now the man regretted every day of his decision.

The loosen and dilapidated sign post that held the name of the estate rattled against it's stumps outside. It was one of the only three noises he could hear. The others was the occasional howling gale that rang out from the wind and the crackle of the fireplace. The noises began to wear on the owner as he continued to pace in the living room in order to try and focus his mind away from the sounds.

It was then that he felt the warmth of his cat as it brushed up against his leg. A young black cat that he found within the manor itself and adopted it as his own. The owner stopped walking around in circles and picked up the cat with his hands. He gave the furry creature a few firm pats as he walked over to a thick leather chair next to the fire. The winds outside died down and he was about to fall asleep from the comfort as he heard a clanking noise.

The owner got up and walked out of the room to find the source of the noise. He found a candle and lit it with another lamp of sorts. The manor had many old lighting methods and the owner decided to maintain the old style. Up the stairs he went, slowly. The source of the noise got louder as the owner got to the top. He turned left and found a small table full of effects and personals that the original owners had. It was something he didn't pay much attention to he was busy restoring the bottom floor first.

There were many pictures, still maintain photos of old and paintings. Many of them were of a beautiful young woman. One of them stood out however. A old photo frame. He picked it up to take a better look. Inside the photo was the same young woman, a man of Asian descent and what seemed to be their daughter. The little girl seemed to also be holding a cat similar to the one he had as well. A coincidence most likely the owner thought. He put the frame down and continued to look for the noise he heard before.

“Victoria...Victoria?” said a voice. It startled the owner. He recomposed himself as he light could be seen inside a room in front of him. The howl of the wind resumed it's course as he made slow steps towards the door.

“Where are you, Victoria my love?” said the voice again. The owner was confused as to why there was another person inside the manor.

“Who are you? Come out now” the owner said. The voice didn't reply. The wind stopped as if the owner himself commanded it. Suddenly the door was smashed open and what appeared to be a armored samurai armed with a Katana began to approach him. The owner immediately tripped backwards and dropped the candle in his hands. He ignored it and began to crawl backwards as he tried to get back up on to his feet. The samurai took several strong steps forward. It gave no reply as it readied it's Katana at the owner and swung downwards with a loud yell. The owner narrowly dodged out of the way and got back up. He ran down the stairs and to the front door to escape. Tried as he might, the door wouldn't open. The owner turned around to see the samurai as it jumped down from the second floor down to the first completely unphased by the drop.

The man ran in to the living room. Perhaps there was something he could use to defend himself with. It was then that he remember now, what people of the town said about the place. Centuries ago there was two murders and a suicide. They said that the husband killed them and then ended his own life. Was this samurai the ghost of that husband or some horrid prank by the locals. At this point he was unsure.

The samurai walked into the living room. The only way in or out of the room. The owner noticed that the samurai in question had a thin hole though it's chest. It ran forward at him and swung multiple times with it's blade. Several items in the room were sliced open. It was then that the samurai found it's mark and landed it's blade at the owner's throat.

The owner then woke up from his chair with a shock. Cold sweat dripped down his back as he looked around. Nothing had changed. Nothing in the room was damaged. Was it all just a horrid nightmare? Did the stress finally get to him? The owner heard a soft meow from the cat in his lap and he gave it a few strokes on his back, the action calmed down the owner. It was then that he noticed something, something that he had missed for all this time. When did the cat have a second tail? He never noticed it before. Was it a strange birth defect or something? The owner at this point didn't care as he tried to relax once again in the chair. He closed his eyes and went back to sleep. Meanwhile, the cat's eyes held within them a weird, dim glow as it snuggled up to it's next victim.

WC: 987
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Lacking A Krillin
The body wasn’t hidden. In fact, it was displayed; placed in a prime spot for runners or passersby to find it. That is how it was found; a young jogger taking an evening run found the body. According to the woman’s testimony – which took longer to get due to the woman’s constant sobbing and blubbering – she thought she saw what looked like a store mannequin laid out across the grass, half hidden by a bush of tuberous perennial plants, commonly referred to as Dahlias, on the edge of the Pinslow Manor estate.

The Pinslow Manor was the largest estate in all of Pinslow Town and belonged to the founding family’s descendants, the Pinslow’s; currently the house was occupied by a number of people, namely the Pinslow family – consisting of Rosa Pinslow, the matriarch, Edgar Pinslow, the patriarch, their daughter, Victoria Pinslow, and the youngest son Dalton Pinslow.

“Is he here yet?” The detective was anxious, taking a long drag of his cigarette before tossing the spent butt onto the dirt before being stomped on to be put out; it was then brushed aside thoughtlessly with his foot as it joined its three other brethren. Now there was a grand total of four cigarette butts on the ground near his formerly polished dress shoes. He was within safe distance of the body, so he wouldn’t contaminate the crime scene. Standing beside him was his partner, who looked at her watch – for the fifth time – and then looked down the road.

“He said he would be here as soon as possible.”

Headlights flashed over the hill and a car roared into view; the ostentatious engine could only belong to Him; or that is how Detective Miller called him. His partner, Detective Coors called him “the nut.”

The car rolled to a halt, and after the engine died down, the driver’s side door swung open. Stepping out of the car was Him; he was not a police officer, he was not a detective, he wasn’t even a member of any police force. He was a consultant; much like the time a police department in a city to the south consulted with a psychic to find a missing girl; although Detective Miller thought it was a waste of time and the psychic was a quack, the girl was ultimately found, unharmed, and her kidnapper was arrested.

“It took you long enough.” Miller growled, as he walked over to him; a tall man, willowy, with pale skin and messy black hair that fell around his somewhat handsome face like a mop.

“I was busy. I see you haven’t kicked the habit.” He peered over at Miller then over at Coors.

“Yeah, I get it, I smell like cigarette smoke.”

“Well, that’s an understatement; you smell like an ash tray at a gentleman’s club, but that wasn’t the habit I was talking about. We can discuss that later, let me see the body.”

The moon shone high overhead; big, round, fat, its face pockmarked with craters of meteor collisions past. But it wasn’t the only light illuminating the area that night just outside of the gargantuan shadow of Pinslow Manor – the body had been cordoned off, a perimeter of yellow police tape was put up and several spotlights were placed on the perimeter, aimed at the center, where the body was.

Miller, Coors, and the Consultant walked over to the body; the mop haired consultant pulling on a pair of gloves as he allowed his eyes to trail over the cadaver, “Female, mid to late twenties, Caucasian, blonde hair,” he spoke as he observed, it was a bit of a habit that Coors and Miller both hated, “was any identification found on her?”

He moved beside the body, not really turning to look at either detective when he made the query.

“No, but we assume she’s a member of the Pinslow family.” Coors piped up, cutting off Miller before he could speak.

“Well you would be wrong,” he looked the girl over; “The Pinslow Family is one of the wealthiest families in the entire continent.”

“Yes, I know that, so how exactly would we be wrong?”

“You’re a detective, aren’t you? Use your eyes; her shoes, cheap, probably from one of the outlet malls here in town. Her fingers are calloused, suggesting she worked with her hands; and I highly doubt a single member of the Pinslow family has ever lifted a finger in their life except to count their money, and I’m sure that’s what accountants are for. If you look at her clothing, it’s knock off, the jacket is fake leather, the jewelry is fake, the ring on her finger has a glass ring; fake gold is made out of copper, when it meets the natural acids in our sweat, it oxidizes thus creating this beautiful Torrey pine discoloration on her finger. She likes to present herself as wealthy but actually isn’t. She looks to impress outwardly.”

He stood up, dusting his hands off. “The body was placed here purposefully; someone wanted her to be found.”The body sat within yards of the broken sign post signaling the arrival of any visitors to Pinslow Manor. “Someone wanted her to be found.”

“And I bet you can tell us exactly who and why?” Coors sounded annoyed, venom dripping from her every word as she glared daggers at the consultant from behind.

“Coors stop talking and turn around.”

“What, why?” Detective Coors glared again.

“Because you’re distracting; and yes, I can tell you who, the why you can figure it out yourself.”

“Ok then, who did it?” Coors had turned away, jaw clenched in annoyance.

“Does anyone in the Pinslow house have a black cat?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Cat hair, all over the bottom hem of her pants, near her ankles. That and the big black cat staring at us from that bush over there with a nametag.”

Coors spun around, her eyes falling on the black furred feline.

“Catch the cat, you catch your killer.”

WC: 1,000
Edited by Android 18, May 30 2017, 08:53 PM.
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“I can’t do it!” I cried as my heart started to pound from my chest. As I glanced to the right all I could see was a broken sign post and the words ‘Pinslow Manor’ scribbled in black along the object’s jagged edges.

Victoria, get ahold of yourself!!” Steffan’s arms were strong, gripping my shoulders to prevent me from flailing. I was scared and truth be told the only reason I was still going through with this was to protect the people I love. It took a moment to see through the stinging tears welling up in my eyes, but finally my breathing began to calm.

“Look you don’t need to be scared sweet-heart, I’ll be here with you the whole time.” I could hear the fear trembling in his own voice, yet Steffan was choosing to stay. He was the only constant since this endeavor began and with a full moon tonight, I’d need all the support I could get. His hands were warm on my cheeks a reminder of the humanity I’d desperately try to cling too.
This far out of town I thought would be the perfect spot, the only building around was the abandoned Pinsolow Manor, and that hadn’t been lived in for centuries. “Steff-“ Before my words could even finish my body collapsed to the soft packed earth and a pain like never before consumed my vision. In agony I writhed through the autumn leaves, twisting and contorting in ways that shouldn’t have been possible. Through the wails I could feel Steffan’s hands on my skin and a feint whisper that “Everything is going to be okay.”

First my arms broke. The muscle and bone twisted and flipped in their joints snapping like twigs before healing in a new position more feral than the last. I couldn’t even hold myself up and fell again into the cool leaves of the night. I think the bones breaking was the hardest sound to hear, since that meant I was actually turning.

Before I could think again, my spine began to tingle and shock began to set in. They were barely audible, the words I tried to say as each vertebra shifted and ground together. “Just…make it…stop.” I cried in vain, knowing full well there was nothing he could do…even if he was a vampire. Does that make us traitors? I thought as I huddled together in a sobbing mass of tears and snot.
“Just…imagine Kyo baby, pet him through the pain.” His words seemed muted somehow as if he were speaking to me through water or a wall but my head was right there. Kyo was my cat, jet black with yellow eyes and the only friend I had left besides Steffan. He always knew the right words to say.

I figured it had been my screams drowning out his voice but after a searing pain tore through my temples I realized my ears were shifting too. If I had known becoming a lycanthrope meant feeling every excruciating second of the entire transformation I’d have never agreed to trigger this curse. But when all you want to do is protect the people you love, well sometimes you do stupid things.

Word Count: 533
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Blowin' Up the RPG!
Tyga smiled as she had been invited to a lovely mansion a free vacation they really should not have the name of this place was the Pinslow Manor. It was the largest building inside the town and from what she could tell one of the nicest places she had seen. Unfortunately for them they did not know about Tyga she had been a serial killer for the last ten years, leaving a string of death and destruction in her wake, this was going to be a showdown of epic proportions as the family of serial killers planned to end her life.

Tyga would pull up to the house at around nine pm as she looked to the sky a full moon nice and bright was in the air. There was broken sign post as she pulled up, felt like home her abusive father slamming her head off of the walls until she had snapped and took a knife slamming it into his brain. After that day she became a monster, she enjoyed the feeling of murder and causing death, her mind had been broken by her violent and abusive father.

She would walk to the door and knock as a woman would open the door, a black cat would run by the woman had nice clothing albeit old fashioned. She had a smile on her face as she was taken to her room, the halls had old decor it was clear this house was likely hundreds of years old.

"My name is Victoria and I hope you will enjoy your stay in our house, we do not get a lot of guests but we are glad you accepted our invitation."

She smiled at the woman but she could tell something was off, being a killer herself she knew this aura the woman had she was a bloodthirsty monster like herself. Tyga would close the door and smile, so they planned to kill her, to bad for them the one person they invited was a killer like them, no she was better as she opened her suitcase up and began to look over her tools. She had her trusty meat cleaver as she would smile and lick the blade. She began to look at her next favorite tool, it was like a hammer but it was special as the hooks in the back had been specially made and diamond tipped to be able to crush into skulls with ease. Then there was her third tool as she would pull a hand axe out, this was a wonderful tool as well, being able to lob off limbs.

She could hear someone outside of her door, it sounded like someone had a chain in their hand, so they planned to invite her for dinner and kill her when she stepped outside. She wondered just how much fun this would be, her heart raced, she could actually die here, or she could kill them all it would be time to see just who was the best killers in the house.

"Miss dinner is ready whenever you want to step downstairs you can come be part of our dinner, I am sure momma would be happy."

The phrasing is what she noticed, be part of dinner, these sick fucks planned to east her, no way in hell she was going to become someones snack. She would smile as she grabbed her hammer and placed it on her waist, she also grabbed her cleaver as she would use this to kill the man at the door.

As she opened the door she noticed he was not right in front, meaning he was off to the left or right, she could hear his breathing he was to the left. Her hand grabbing the cleaver tightly as she would slam the door open and rush the man, he appeared shocked the woman had a knife in her hand. Her blade would strike his left shoulder as she would dig it straight down with blood rushing and slashing her face. He would let out a bloody scream before she would pull the blade out and slam the cleaver into his throat. She would slice hard to the right before pulling clean through with the blood spattering all over the hall and his body slamming onto the floor.

"You bitch you killed my baby... you psychotic fuck... we are going to enjoy killing you stupid bitch... how dare you kill someone that invited you for dinner."

Tyga would begin to laugh manically as she ran her finger along some blood and licked it off hr finger, she would really enjoy killing Victoria. Another man came rushing at her as he tackled her to the ground, he was a lot stronger then the last man as he began to pull his fist back, he seemed to have hand blades and planned to rip her to pieces. Unfortunately for him she was not someone that could easily be overtaken, her right hand was able to grab the hammer on her side as she would quickly take the hook and slam it into his head, the thud was loud as he would freeze in place. She would stand and begin to slam the hooks into his head over and over. The thudding sound of the hammer crushing his skull as the final blow would break the hammer with her pulling a chunk of his brain out. They were pathetic killers compared to herself, sh could hear the woman making a run for it.

She would never let this woman escape as she moved back toward her room and opening the window, it was right above the front door. The woman would begin to leave before Tyga would leap from the cover above the door tackling the woman to the ground, so she was the victim, no they were the fools that invited a serial killer. She would pull out her axe and cleave the head clean off. She would stand and smile, this was a great night.

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