Chapter 3 - "Crimson Precision"

The fifth victim sits perfectly posed, facing a time only the killer understands.

Tick tock. He turned back the black hands of his watch as if he could undo the hour. As if time offered second chances.

Tick tock. She pretended her knives were keys, undoing something locked long ago.

Amelia Anderson, 58, was found deceased in her home earlier this morning. Police responded to a wellness check request from a concerned neighbor and discovered the fifth victim in what may now be a series of connected deaths. The police ask that if anyone saw anything unusual, they report it immediately.

Another body was found. Amelia Anderson, 58. A quiet woman. Discovered in her own living room, seated in a chair moved deliberately to face a grandfather clock.

No signs of forced entry. No struggle. Nothing disturbed.

Except for the clock on her wrist.

Unlike before, this one was exposed. Deliberate. A message.

The Medical Examiner couldn't confirm a cause of death. But everyone saw the crimson soaking her clothes. The smell of iron. The deliberate, almost surgical cut.

Why did this happen? Everything was red, no crimson. Dripping. Flowing. Bright, then dark. Crimson.

He was being careful this time. Alone.

He felt watched as he carved. Breaths slowed. Heartbeat held. Then the pain started-not his, but hers. He made sure of that.

The carving was finished : 2:15.

He stepped back. Fixed the chair. Let her face time.

This one wouldn't be found quickly.

The second hand was used.

And Eloise hadn't even been there.

Calmly, they stepped back into the night, leaving behind the crimson room and vanishing into their hollow in time.

Tick.

Tock.

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

Tis a timely thoughtful chapter, things on the move and yet another slip=slide into a world that moves to its own time.. mostly. Fascinatingly different. Hope to meet with your approval this time!?