A Mysterious Killer
Warnings: Murder and blood
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The sun was setting on Lakewood, causing the streetlights to flicker on.
It always felt unsettling being out at that time. Nobody knows what could be lurking about.
There have been mentions of monsters that strike in the night, though there had never really been any bodies to prove it aside from a few disappearances throughout the years. Nonetheless, something always felt off while walking along the dimly lit streets.
A shadow flew by the latest streetlight, but it went unnoticed.
The moon had risen, the crescent shape being a sort of calming sight. After all, full moons have always been notorious for cryptid attacks.
Most people were in their homes, calmly enjoying their evening, whether it be with their families, their lovers, or by themselves. Because of this, the sidewalks were mostly empty.
The darkness was staring. Watching. Waiting.
Suddenly, it felt as if all noise had stopped. The crickets had stopped chirping, and it even felt as if footsteps couldnât be heard.
One of the street lights flickered off above a poor soul.
The darkness grinned.
A scream was cut short.
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Venomous groaned as light shone directly in his face. He couldâve sworn that he closed those blinds last night.
Maybe Fink did it to keep him from sleeping through the whole day again.
He sat up in his bed, his body feeling more stiff than usual. He marked it up to sleeping on something wrong and stretched.
He was absolutely exhausted.
He should stop his late night strolls after his classes.
He lazily rolled out of bed, making his way to the bathroom. He took a deep breath as he turned on the lights.
He hated seeing any parts of his skin.
It made him feel helpless. He couldnât have stopped what had happened to him. It hurt to have that reminder. The reminder that he wasnât powerful enough to stop these kinds of things.
At the same time, his fear was not stopping him from putting on makeup.
He saw himself in the mirror and felt his heart stop.
Was⊠Was that blood?
Yes, there was dried blood on his face, his hands, even some on his outfit.
He quickly fell into full panic mode as he checked were the wound could possibly be.
There was no wound.
Why in Cobâs name would there be no wound unlessâŠ.
Unless it wasnât his blood.
That was an even more terrifying thought.
How could someone elseâs blood be on him? He couldnât recall any situation he was in last night that involved someone else and their blood. All he did was teach his class, take the long way home, and curled up into bed. There was no reason for blood to be on him.
He had to wash it off.
His pajamas? Those needed to be burned.
He wished that he could just shed his skin. Anything to get rid of this feeling.
He took a long shower, scrubbing hard enough to make his skin burn.
He felt disgusted.
The rest of his day continued like normal. Fink questioned why he was in the shower for so long, but he pushed it away quickly and spent the day in his lab. The memories of that morning completely left.
It was evening, and he and Fink were in the living room. The young rat girl was coloring on the floor as he sat on the couch, flipping tiredly through channels. It wasnât like there was much to choose from. He ended up just landing on the news and mindlessly going to his lab notes from the day.
âPolice are still investigating a murder that took place sometime last night. The victim was found on the sidewalk that night by a young couple who lived across the street.â
He felt himself tense as his attention was now completely on the news.
âHey, boss! Thatâs the road we live on!â Fink called.
It was.
âThe witnesses describe the suspect as a shadow. Many have started calling this murderer âShadowy Figure.ââ
âWhat a dumb name.â Fink scoffed.
âOther than this, there is no evidence of who this âShadowy Figureâ is, but I wonât rest until this creep is caught!â
Of course, Dynamite always wanted to get personal with her news pieces. He hoped that this wouldnât be her downfall.
âMany are saying that this is a new cryptid, and the town has already taken to adding him to their stores.â
Yes, Vormulax would be very quick to throw this in with her tourist trap.
âWill we see this mysterious figure again-â
And the door burst open, causing whatever Dynamite said to be washed away by the sound.
And there Boxman stood, already geared up. âWe have a new cryptid!â
He sighed. He didnât know what else he expected from the eccentric man. He noticed the news cameras outside and quickly hissed. âClose the door!â
âWas that Boxman?â Dynamite was now running towards his house.
âFink! Coat and hat! Now!â He quickly ran to grab his own as Fink did.
He slipped his sunglasses on as he ran to the door. Boxman was clapping excitedly, his excitement for cryptids foregoing any worry over the situation he just threw them into. He adjusted his hat as he glanced to Fink, who was also well disguised now.
Dynamite was at the door quickly. âWhy did Boxman break in here!?â
âItâs alright! He has a key.â He shot Boxman a small glare. âHe just doesnât use it.â
Dynamite looked confused for a moment. He couldnât blame her. Boxman was known as the townâs crazy person, so anyone actually wanting to be around him would probably be a surprise to anyone else. It was awful that they put Boxman in that light, but he couldnât do anything about that.
There was also the fact that he was in a hat, winter coat, and sunglasses in his own home, but heâd rather not think about that. Not very many people question him about this, even though they really should. It was part of the reason he stayed in this town.
âBoxman! Youâre known for your knowledge of cryptids! What can you tell us about this Shadowy Figure?â Dynamite quickly fired.
âI donât know anything about him!â Boxman rubbed his hands together. âAnd thatâs the fun part.â