Work Text:
Dear friend,
He talked about killing again.
He started to describe his plans in grotesque details, he talked about slitting this girls throat, Anne Girdle, she was a popular kid at school she had decent grades and a perfect family. I don't want to name my friend but lets call him ben. Ben has always been.... Problematic. He talked about dragging peoples dead corpse from his basement to the forest behind his house, his dad died and his mother went missing just a few weeks ago. But he started talking about killing someone just the few months from now, i talked about him to go to a therapist but he got angry and hit me and left. I didn't see him for a week. During that time i heard about a guy at our school, he was murdered. He was found at the forest hung, bits and pieces of his face torn off, his limbs dangling— only a piece of skin keeping it from dropping down the bloody forest floor, that wasn't even the worst of it. The worst of it is his eyes, his eyes were slashed open. His name was Andrew mills, he was a debate leader and the escort of the school. He was decently popular not really that chatty but a good kid overall. His dad was an engineer and his mom was a caretaker at the local retirement home.
But from that i knew exactly who did it. It was ben. He told me about it a week before that, it was the reason why i told him to get a therapist. He came back to school the next day, he looked more happy that he was a few weeks prior. I didnt dare to ask why, why he was smiling from ear to ear, why he was beaming with pride. I wouldnt dare to know what he would answer because i already knew, i already knew that he killed him, my friend, is a murderer. He didnt stop there, Ella Wood and McKinley Wood, drowned and mutilated— Lyla Connor, took multiple bashes in the head and bits of her flesh missing —Kyrea Killins, beheaded. They never found her body, she had to be buried with only her head.
Every attempt of the police to identify the killer always reached a dead end. It was monday when he talked about killing Anne, its a wednesday now. He left school again on tuesday. And i havent seen Anne anywhere. I think he's going to strike again. Where? I dont know. His basement? The cabin near his house? The tree next to that cabin? Youll never know.
Youll never. Ever. Know
-Hayden O'Connell