The Murderer

Chapter One - Like Birds in a Deathtrap

The icy feeling down Henry's back was still there. It was Friday the 13th, and they went through a dark alley. What could have gone wrong?

He realized he still felt weak, too weak to even stand up from the crumpled position he was in. He realized he was in bad shape. His school uniform was clawed, and his bag was gone. His limbs were bleeding, and his body and head were bruised. His bag was gone.

He examined the room. It was square, with a megaphone on the upper right corner. There were a few other people in the room, scattered and bloody.

He saw Jane in the corner of the room, directly behind him, her eyeglasses gone, and clothes clawed. Instead of bruised body and head, it was also bleeding like her limbs.

When he tried to crawl up to Jane, he bumped his head on something, and fell. He rubbed his head and began touching the seemingly invisble barrier. Since he was in the left side of the room, he had only three people adjacent to him. Some guy rubbing his glasses on my right, Jane at the back, and some guy rubbing his fat belly on the front. There was a speaker in each room.

He shouted, "Jane, can you hear me?" She should hear him, he was directly in front of her, but she didn't. She kept wallowing in pain there in her own plastic box. Without anything to do, Henry began counting how many people were in the room. By the sight of all of them, he concluded that all of them were teenagers. There were five people in a column, and six in a row. Thirty people. What could the murderer want with thirty people?

He sat there staring at the ceiling for no apparent reason. His watch, which fortunately was on his wrist the whole time, said that it was September 14. It was one day since yesterday, which meant it was Saturday. His mother would have been sick worried by now. She was the overprotective type, which was not really a comfortable thought considering that he was trapped in a room with a potential murderer who will do something to him and twenty-nine people including his schoolmate. It must be truly comforting.

After examining his fellow jailed birds, he realized that all of them except him, Jane and the fat guy, were pouncing on the invisible walls. The sound would be really loud, but the walls trapped sound so he only heard the sound faintly.

It was almost noon, and Henry stared at the beige-colored ceiling, with ten light bulbs hanging precariously from it. The bulbs were surprisingly bright. The walls were beige and the floor was black.

He removed his watch and fiddled with it. It was so boring. Though he knew it would be his last few hours of peace, he still thought it was boring. If they had a few hours of peace left, the murderer could at least prepare a game or a source of entertainment and rant on his evil scheme, which the hero would probably escape. Except for the fact that they were not heroes. And we would probably die before even taking a step towards the exit. After seeing Saw, Insidious, The Exorcist, Human Centipede and The Conjuring, he could have a lot more experience than these people. Remove the fact that it was nothing like those horror movies.

After hours and hours of fiddling with his watch, it was really getting boring. He needed something to do or he would flip out. What was the murderer waiting for? All thirty "rooms" were filled. It was five in his watch. Exactly twenty-four hours after the murder.

While he was about to pounce the door to fit in with twenty-eight others (the fat guy seemed to have pounced already), there was a pounce behind him.

Jane was standing there. Her blonde hair and brown eyes usually being covered by her huge eyeglasses met his blue eyes. She was actually kind of hot for a nerd. With Henry, his popularity might slightly be caused by his looks. He had brown hair and incredible physique would make the girls in his school go gaga for him. And he hated it.