This centers on a deranged woman's path to becoming a complete nihilistic and feral serial killer. Emma Woodburn was put in the asylum for eleven years after killing her own husband and ten-year old son, along with the aging mother of a detective.
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The woman walked closer. No emotions but just a blank face that cursed humanity. Blonde hair, eyes as red as blood, and in each step she took closer, she was smirking.
Just another step closer to Timothy in this dark room. This silent four-cornered room with only one window and posters of models that had their eyes gazing at you in the dark. From there, you wouldn't even tell if their eyes were moving or not. In each corner was nothing but dark, silence but the closet kept on opening itself in a gradual creaky way. The clock on the wall suddenly froze. Both it's hands stopped ticking at approximately unknown numbers.
Poor Timothy still had the camera on by the time this fiendish woman in WHITE was found at his bedside. Her face slowly bent towards his sleeping head, breathing profusely as though suffering from the heat out of the desert. Slowly, Timothy was awakening from his slumber. He could feel the woman's hot breath on his cheeks like that of the camel or the horse. Except this time, it felt entirely realistic and human. Not willing to keep herself in suspense, the woman in WHITE bent even closer, pouring out her strands of blonde hair onto the boy's goggles.
Timothy opened his eyes real slowly. In front of him were a woman's red eyes, silk creamy nose and blood all over her mouth and chin as she smiled maliciously.
He jerked awake at approximately 1:45. Heart thumping, veins popping, beads of sweat rolling down from his scattered blonde hair and eyes bulky as the size of a dodgeball. Senses were too sharp and keen now.
What the hell was that?
Or who the hell was that?
Austin's tricks again. Such a distorted young mind the teenage brat had. He had learnt countless ways to give the young Timothy night terrors even when he wanted it or didn't want it. Virtual reality games were believed by his father, Mr. Summers to be the remedy in taking care of his nightmares, deducing the violence would give him the courage to not be afraid of boogeymen, creepers under the bed, man rapists in the dark scary closet, Slender Men on the ceiling or the baby Lucifer picture Brianna had on the fourth wall of her room. That insidious, creepy picture which Timothy believed was laughing at him anytime nobody was there in the time of day.
For the first time since having his head shoved in the toilet by the principal's daughter Marty and her two henchmen Roy and TJ at the age of ten or getting the biggest weggie on the school's grotesque statue that didn't look like the statue of Liberty, Timothy wanted to run to his mummy and hide under the blanket in her arms. The type of hideous face he had just dreamt of in UV light vision was unforgettably disturbing and incoherent. She had blonde hair and blood dripping all over her mouth and chin.
Even from the green light vision, Timothy could tell it was blood.
Austin's right, the kid thought, the woman who killed her husband and son does walk out of the asylum at night and I just saw her near my bed!
