A/N: This is just the first draft so it may be a little wonky. I apologize for that. Eventually I will rewrite it (at some point), but anyways enjoy.
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Death Trap Has Struck Again!!!
I stare at the blank page of Microsoft Word Document. Where do I even start? An infamous serial killer whom the local police christened "Death Trap" because he took it upon himself to torture and kill his victims in public with traps and whatnots has struck at a local rave. 50 bodies were found gruesomely dismembered at the scene.
I have been following this story for the past year. It shook up Dove City like nothing ever has. The masked killer struck at grocery stores, liquor stores, even at bowling alleys. How was he getting away with this: No evidence and a concealed identity? The killing rampage was really hurting the local economy. People were no longer shopping at the local stores. Some were even quitting their jobs. They were even taking their families and leaving the city. If the police didn't stop this killer, Dove City will become a ghost town.
I haven't lived in Dove City my whole life. I moved here after college when my parents passed away in a car accident which caused my older sibling Mackayla and I to become estranged. She got married and went on a trip around the world with her obscenely rich husband. I was left here all alone staring at a computer screen day after day writing articles about rampant serial killers.
"Simmons, get in here!" My boss yelled from his office. I got up from my desk, fixing my grey pencil skirt and white blouse.
Three words to describe me: educated, black, and beautiful. I competed in beauty pageants and won. I graduated from a university with a high GPA and a bachelor's in journalism. I succeed at almost everything I do. Even though my beauty pageant days were over, not looking and feeling beautiful was a Pepe eve. I move my rather long bangs aside deciding I needed another haircut. My pixie hairdo was getting way too long.
"Yes, Percy," I answered as I entered his office. Once, Percy had been a handsome man before time remedied that. Now he only had a fraction of those good looks. The expensive suits he wore helped him out greatly even with his thinning grey hair.
When I was first hired, I genuinely believed I was just the token black person because let's face it there isn't many like me in this building, but Percy genuinely believed I had potential. And I became determined to prove it. My predecessor was a very tenacious man and highly regarded for cutting down to the naked truth no matter how deep it was. I had some pretty big shoes to fill. James Teller worked for Dove City Times for twenty years, retired and became a bestselling author.
Percy smiled bitterly. Uh oh, something is definitely up. His lips pressed into a thin white line as he picked up the paper from our rivals, pushing his glasses up higher upon his straight nose which emphasized his blue eyes. "It's possible this masked killer is ex-military," he read a line from the article. I froze. Percy removed his glasses. "You let these pricks get valuable information before you?"
"I-I..." All of a sudden words eluded me. How the hell did they get that? Somebody has got to be suckin' some dick for that Intel. "Dick suckers," I blurted out.
"No shit," Percy conceded. "Speaking of shit... get it together, Simmons!"
"Yes, sir," I replied bitterly.
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It was after six when I returned to my apartment, a place I would never call home. Going straight for the fridge, I chug down a bottle of soda. It was a bad habit of mine, drinking sugary drinks rather than water. I kicked off my pumps and was rewarded with sore feet. As I took a final swig from the bottle of soda, I saw something move from the corner of my eye- like a flash of black mist. It happened so fast. As soon as I blinked I found myself on the floor of my apartment staring up into a menacing black mask...