Photo Op.

A part of a story I'm writing... There's been a series of murders at Ashley's high school, and Ashley's afraid she might be the next victim.

The man was quite handsome. His hair was bronze and curly, still thick despite his age. He always had a clean chin, he wouldn't be caught dead without a shave. His glasses sat halfway down the bridge of his nose while he read, and when he looked over the frames at a female student, she looked as if she would faint. 

Looks can be deceiving. Right now, he was examining a shelf in his closet. A knife, a bottle of chemicals, and a Polaroid camera were positioned carefully on it. His eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Blood doesn't look bad in the shoot, and the knife is much easier to kill with, but do I really want to clean up the blood? 

He sighed. No, he didn't want to do any cleaning. He grabbed the bottle and shoved it into his pocket, along with the camera. On his way out of his house, he grabbed a rag, and placed it next to the bottle. 

"Cassie? May I speak to you for a moment?" The man asked a blond, freckled girl before she could leave.

"About what?" She asked, setting her bag back down on her desk. 

"Private matters. Could you come with me, please?" The girl followed him without a word. He led her to a broom closet, where he pulled on a pair of thick leather gloves. In the dim lighting, she couldn't see the rag and bottle in his hands. He turned his back on her and poured enough of the bottle's contents to disorient a person. He capped it, and pushed it into his pocket. He took a deep breath, and grabbed the girl by the neck, pressing her head to his chest. She screamed, but it was muffled by the rag. The young woman struggled against his grip. She tried to push away, but the man only tightened his grip on her head. 

It only took a few minutes before she fell limp to the ground. Her eyes were open, and she looked out at an unseen object. She moaned a bit, her head lolling to the side. He scooped her up in his arms, her body light as a feather, and placed her inside the open suitcase he had brought to the closet earlier. He closed it, and left the closet, with the suitcase carrying his victim inside. 

He went behind the school with his suitcase afterwards. He placed her body under a tree, spreading her arms out, letting her head lay on it's side. Her eyes were half closed.

He took out his camera, and got down on his stomach, aiming the camera at her. She looked pathetic in this position. He usually used dead models, but he didn't want to waste any more chloroform. He wouldn't have time to clean up the blood today. 

He took a few photos at different angles. She stared at him with blank eyes the whole time. 

"I'm done now. Thank you for this opportunity, I've had my eye on you for a while."

The girl was beginning to regain her awareness now. "Go to hell." She told him.

He smiled at her. "Not for a while." He leaned forward, and looked at her from above. Her eyelashes fluttered.

"Don't kill me, please." She begged, her eyes starting to water. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I beg of you, please! I won't tell anybody."

The man shook his head. He pulled a roll of duct tape out of his bag. He tore off a piece. He held the piece over her mouth, but she kept shaking her head. He forced the tape onto her mouth, adjusting it over her cherry lips. She breathed against the tape, but no breath escaped. He pushed her up against the tree, and bound her hands behind it. He took one last long strip of gray tape, and restrained her head against the bark. He pulled a clothespin out of his bag, and placed it on her nose. She screamed against the tape, she couldn't breathe. Just looking at her, he knew her chest hurt already.. 

"Just relax." He told her. Her eyes watered up again, tears streaming down her face. 

"Please!" He could almost hear her screaming. He ignored the silent pleas.

He noted everything he could have left a fingerprint on was with him, and left her there, taking the suitcase with him.

*****

The newspaper was amusing the next morning. To him, anyways. The photos he had taken were locked in his safe, and he was once again comfortable. 

The man was sitting in a coffee shop, watching a boy in his class. The boy sipped his drink while reading a book. 

The man took a deep breath, and stood. He walked over to the student's table. 

"Excuse me, Jacob, but I need to discuss something with you. I didn't have time at school yesterday and I would like you to know it before school tomorrow."

"Okay Mr. Anderson." He replied. The man, Mr. Anderson, stood.

"Let's go to a private place." The boy stood, and followed the man. Mr. Anderson carried his suitcase, which contained his camera, and a knife.

Author's Note

I'm doing some more research on the effects of chloroform, so the first part might not be accurate. I'll edit it when I learn more. I don't exactly know if what the man did to Cassie could kill her, so I'm going to keep it like that for now but I might change it later.
Also, it gets scarier as the story continues.

Reviews

[p]

This wasn't half bad, but I'd say that this wasn't really a horror story. It's more like an excerpt from a Hannibal Lector novel, not that that's a bad thing, this is very well written for being so short. On that matter however, I would've made it longer, I'm personally against releasing excerpts of a longer story before it's fully written.

This was very good, but I'd say it fit more in a kind of dark comedy story about a whacky serial killer.

[TheShadowsWithin]

I appreciate the feedback. This is one of my first attempts at writing horror, but I'm used to writing fantasy and fiction, so I can see why it's not very good. Thank you.

[p]

I didn't say it wasn't good, I thought it was excellent, I'd just say that it would fit more into a dark comedy kind of story. If you'd like a piece of advise on how to make it more frightening, I would've written it from the perspective of the girl. Having the narrator be inside of the killer's head kind of eliminates the mystery and suspense of the danger. Like I said, I thought this was very good.