Zoey and Molly sat on the couch, engrossed in the news broadcast on their TV. The blonde reporter, Alexandra Reynolds, spoke with a grave expression, her voice somber.
"...in the city of Ravenswood, a string of mysterious disappearances has plagued the community for weeks. Just moments ago, the body of 25-year-old John Lee was discovered in an abandoned alleyway off Maple Street."
Molly gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with worry. Zoey's lips pursed, concern etched on her face, her auburn hair framing her pale skin.
Cyra, seated in the armchair, paused her game and raised her head, her heterochromatic eyes locking onto the TV screen. The soft glow illuminated her features, highlighting the sharp angles of her face.
Alexandra Reynolds continued, "According to eyewitnesses, John's body showed signs of extreme violence. Authorities suspect foul play."
The camera zoomed in on the crime scene. Cyra's sensitive vision picked up every detail:
John's body lay in a pool of blood, his eyes frozen in terror, the irises constricted. Lacerations crisscrossed his torso, with deep gashes on his arms and legs, the skin torn and flayed. His skin was pale, almost translucent, with an eerie blue undertone, like the hue of a winter moon. A jagged wound marred his forehead, and his nose was broken, the cartilage twisted at an unnatural angle. His fingers were bruised, as if he'd tried to defend himself, the nails cracked and splintered.
The camera panned out, revealing the alleyway's eerie atmosphere. Trash cans overturned, shattered glass scattered, and graffiti-covered walls seemed to loom over the crime scene. Police tape cordoned off the area, officers milling about, their faces grim.
Cyra's gaze lingered on the injuries. She recognized the brutality, the calculated precision. This wasn't a random attack; it was a deliberate, ritualistic act. The killer's movements seemed almost choreographed, each cut and slash designed to inflict maximum pain.
Molly's voice trembled. "This has been going on for weeks... What if it comes to Starfall City?" Her dark brown eyes filled with fear.
Zoey nodded gravely. "Well, Ravenswood is 200 Miles from Starfall City, but we still need to be cautious, Mom." Her olive eyes narrowed, concern etched on her face. "Same goes to you too, Cyra." She said, looking towards the blackette. The latter nodded.
Cyra's thoughts turned to protecting Molly and Zoey. As an immortal, she wasn't concerned for herself, but the safety of those she cared about was paramount. She made a silent vow to safeguard them.
As the news report continued, Cyra's eyes remained fixed on the screen, her mind racing with possibilities.
What kind of perpetrator would commit such atrocities? And what was their ultimate goal?
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Weeks passed, and the disappearances in Ravenswood continued to escalate. Cyra initially remained detached, thinking she'd eventually see the victims in either Heaven or Hell, if she could ever return. However, as the killings drew closer to Starfall City, her indifference waned.
Molly, increasingly anxious, took drastic measures. "Girls, I'm afraid we'll have to limit our outings for now. No more shopping trips, no more park visits. Just school and back home."
Cyra sighed exasperatedly, "But, Molly, I want to see more of the world!" Her heterochromatic eyes sparkled with frustration. She didn't care that she'd spoken her inner thoughts. The two females infront of her didn't seem to mind her statement.
Zoey, equally disappointed, huffed, "I know, right? I'm an outdoors person, Mom. This is suffocating." Her auburn hair fell around her face as she slumped.
Molly's expression remained firm. "I understand, but safety comes first. We can't take risks."
Zoey yielded, understanding in her olive eyes. "Alright, I get it, Mom."
To maintain their sanity, Cyra and Zoey created indoor games:
"Shadow Dance" – a flashlight-tag game in the darkened living room
"Treasure Hunt Showdown" – a competitive scavenger hunt using clues and riddles
"Storyweavers" – an improv storytelling session, taking turns to spin fantastical tales
Molly limited her own outdoor activities and secured the house, locking windows and doors. The once-peaceful neighborhood transformed into a fortress.
"It's not just nighttime attacks," Molly warned. "They're striking during the day, too."
The Smithson household wasn't alone in their vigilance. Neighboring homes followed suit, some stockpiling food for weeks and barely venturing out.
Then, the inevitable happened. The killings and disappearances reached Starfall City.
Panic gripped the community. No matter how citizens hid, the killer(s) seemed to find their targets.
Zoey whispered, eyes wide, "How are they doing this, Mom?"
Molly's face was pale. "I don't know, sweetie."
Cyra's thoughts churned with unease. She'd promised to protect Molly and Zoey, but how could she defend against an enemy who seemed to strike at will?
Then, just as abruptly as they began, the attacks ceased.
An unsettling silence fell over Starfall City.
Cyra's instincts screamed that this wasn't the end.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Days blended into weeks, weeks into months. The killings hadn't resumed, and a cautious relief settled over Starfall City. But beneath the surface, unease simmered.
Cyra couldn't shake off her concerns. One evening, as they sat in the living room, she voiced her thoughts.
"Guys, I know it's been quiet for a while, but we can't let our guards down. The killer might still be out there."
Molly's expression turned serious. "We're aware, Cyra. We're still being careful."
Zoey nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we're not taking any chances."
Two months passed, and the city's rhythm returned to normal. Schools, shops, and restaurants bustled with activity.
Then, without warning, a new horror unfolded.
A 911 call reported a body lying on Oakwood Street, on the outskirts of Starfall City. The news spread like wildfire.
Cyra, Zoey, and Molly rushed to the TV, hearts racing. The footage showed a woman, mid-twenties, lying motionless on the asphalt.
Cyra's eyes narrowed, analyzing the injuries. Most resembled those of John Lee, the Ravenswood victim. But there were differences. Parts of the woman's arms and neck had been disintegrated, leaving behind smoldering, charred flesh.
The camera zoomed in on the disintegrated areas, and Cyra's heart quickened. Sweat formed on her forehead.
Zoey, sensing her best friend's panic, slipped her hand into Cyra's. "Hey, we've got each other. We'll be fine."
Cyra's eyes met Zoey's, both knowing the unspoken truth: all was not going to be fine.
Molly's voice trembled. "What kind of monster could do this?"
Cyra took a deep breath, her thoughts racing. The disintegration seemed familiar... too familiar. A dark, nagging feeling crept up her spine.
Zoey's grip on Cyra's hand tightened. "We're in this together, Cyra."
Cyra's gaze lingered on the TV screen, her mind reeling with the implications.
It seemed her father had finally struck.
»»—————- ♔ —————-««
Molly: "Zoey, stop binge-watching true crime docs. We're already living in one."
Zoey: "But, Mom, I'm researching for our survival!"
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Cyra:"If I had a dollar for every 'don't go outside' warning, I'd buy a self-defense course... and a really strong door lock."
Zoey: "Cyra, your dad jokes are scarier than the killer."
Cyra: "Who said that was a dad joke?"
Zoey: "What."
Cyra: "What."
37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR7XcvXG1y7
[A/N]: Thanks for reading! ^^
37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmICBM0K6la
