Satan's Spawn

Chapter 1 -'Heels are death contraptions made by men'

Authors Note-

hola mis lindas. Just wanted to say hi and welcome you to my story. Just to warn you, there will be a lot of swearing and profanities included but hey I'm British, we love to have a lil swear word here and there. Anyway, thank you and happy reading <3

- Linda

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Chapter 1

Out of my 24 years of living on this god forsaken planet I never once imagined myself, witnessing a murder. Cold blooded murder. Like you know when you see it on TV, in episodes of Criminal Minds, these weird ass psychos torturing and killing their victims and having weird ass fetishes to get off, it seems so surreal to watch. Probably because you know its actors acting, the blood is probably ketchup and it's just a whole bunch of fake shit, so it's easy on the eyes. But seeing it in real life. That's a whole other story.

You see right now I'm currently trying to run down these disgustingly lit unfamiliar streets of Los Angeles in my stupid "Compulsory" heels that I was forced to wear for my new job. I swear I have never seen such a torture device become the norm. My burly brown hair was now loosely flapping behind me and I had my briefcase clutched so tight to my chest that I was cutting off the oxygen that I quite literally needed. My heart was beating so hard against my chest and my body and legs felt so numb and weak that I felt like I could collapse any second now.

I didn't dare to look back. Because let's admit we all know in horror movies and crime stories, looking back means that the crazy person is chasing you with a fucking axe, desperate to chop you into little tiny pieces.

I regret not taking a stupid uber home now. I thought I could make the journey by foot because my apartment was not too far from where my new job is but I got lost and my phone died. Stupid. Just Stupid. I sometimes can handle by own stubbornness probably why my husband left me.

After running for what felt like forever my velocity was slowly starting to decrease and I came to a painful stop. I was breathing so harshly, I swear I sounded like a choking cat. My legs were burning and the back of my feet were stinging, and bloody. My forehead had a sheen of sweat and my hands were more clammy than usual. I finally gave in and looked behind me, to see nothing. Nobody was there.

"Thank you, god," I breathed out in a sigh of relief. I put my hand on my knees and loosened the clutch on my briefcase. I really was lucky this time, danger just loves to come looking for me. Catching my breathe and still with caution I forced myself to turn around and walk. The streets were dimly lit and cars were all parked up the road, gleaming with the reflection of the moonlight. God knows what time it is. I was more than lost now and with my nerves having the fright of their life, I decided to keep walking probably hoping to see a telephone booth so I could call the police.

The images of what I had saw came flooding back to me. I'm always guilty of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. That poor woman. She didn't deserve that at all. No one deserves to take away another person's life unless god does it.

I remember just turning the corner and seeing her and that psycho, making out against the dirty wall of a dry-cleaning shop. She had her hands fisted into his dark thick hair and he had an iron grip on her slender frame. It was awkward like hell, I don't even think they knew I was standing there, but because I was lost and literally had no clue to where I was going, I decided on asking them, as they were the only signs of life I had seen in ages. I took a glance at the women and my god was she beautiful. Pale skin, big doe blue eyes and long blonde hair that framed her symmetrical face so nicely. She was the definition of an Aryan beauty.