Tom ~Story of a Murderer~

45 1 0
                                    

Happy Halloween, my lovelies. I give to you so readers candy >:D A short "scary" story, based on a true story. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'

Tom

Tom tucked the knife into the waistband of his jeans, carefully hiding the fact that it was different from his usual one. This knife had a longer, sharper blade, perfect for slashing and stabbing.

            It was that time of the month again. The time where his fingers would constantly itch to hold tightly the handle of a sharp blade so he could drag it across flesh and create those dark, red wells of thick liquid. The itch only worsened when he entered the dark caverns where the carnage would take place, where his memories would blossom to the surface. Years’ worth of his most prized and sickening memories.

            In his opinion, there was no satisfaction to gain through shedding your own blood. Though the crimson color of it was so very beautiful… He loved seeing it stain his fingers and well up to the surface of a person’s skin. Just the hauntingly beautiful image could send shivers of delight down his spine.

            Tom pulled the navy blue shirt over his head, adjusting it so the handle of the knife could not be seen through it. The letters on the back spelled out “guide” in a glowing yellow.

            Tom was a guide at the infamous Indian Caverns in Spruce Creek, Pennsylvania. He loved the caves. They were curious and wondrous, carved out of water a mere five hundred thousand years before. He loved the dark tunnels and the hidden passage ways, the glorious formations, and, his personal favorite, the Jewel room.

            “The Jewel room was a room of secrets as priceless as a gem.” Tom chuckled to himself. After quickly slipping on his boots and lacing them up, he wandered his way up the road to the familiar caverns where his day at work would begin. Since he grew up in Spruce Creek, being a tour guide for the caves was his first job like many of the other teenagers in the small town. Of course, Tom had managed to hold the job for six years while his co-workers came and went, never staying around for too long.

            His many years of employment at the caves resulted in him knowing every nook and cranny like the back of his hand. He could easily walk the caves with no lights or navigate the more unknown parts of the cavern. He even knew for a fact that there was a part no one but him had ever visited. If it had, he would’ve already been discovered. Assuming nobody had stumbled upon it, he carelessly continued to hide them in there…

            On this particular day, he was only working with one other tour guide—a man whose name Tom had no desire to learn and was always skittish whenever Tom would approach him. Then again, most of the other employees were vacant around him as well. Not that he blamed them. Tom was a rather intimidating person, both in size and the air of arrogance he emitted. People avoided him like the plague unless they were part of his tour.

            “Looks like we’re going to have a busy day,” Tom commented to his fellow co-worker.

            The other man nodded. “Looks like it,” he replied gruffly.

            Tom was unfazed by this man’s lack of interest. He was never interested in a conversation with Tom. Not many were. Usually his conversations were one sided as he guided groups through the caves.

            Tom’s first tour of the day was small, a group of seven. It was made of a family and a couple. The people were no bother except for their constant complaints of the smell. Complaints that worried Tom. The deeper they walked, the more potent the smell became.

A Series of One-ShotsWhere stories live. Discover now