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The Last Case Chapter 25
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 Created on 2-9-08
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Paullina ate her breakfast, chewing slowly and smelt the copper stench of human blood nearby. She ran out and saw her twin sister lying on the grass, blood spilled, and written on the wall, “DAMN” She was a target. Monstru must have accidentally killed her sister when she went outside to garden. He was distracted again.
They carried the victim away, but they had no suspect yet. Her sister was infamous for stealing boyfriends, and any of the heartbroken females might have stabbed her in the neck, leaving the blade to stick out after the inscription on the wall. The paint had soaked into her blood and poisoned her, but she had also bled out much. This killer wasn’t really merciful; the older wound was the one at her stomach, and it took at least half an hour to carve out the message, then shock would seep in, when he slammed the dagger into the throat. Slowly, the liquid of life would flow out of the victim, as he had missed the main artery. And he made sure she couldn’t scream simply by ripping her tongue violently out.
Tears fell onto the table, splashing onto the cold, hard surface, and killing the bacteria that it touched. She felt weak and vulnerable to any attacks. She curled up in bed, not wanting to go to work. She was excused, because of family issues- her close sister’s death.
Hunter threw the eyes of the dead cat out of the window. He hated felines, because one had nearly killed his pet mouse in the first grade. Wait. He was killed five years ago. He was about 27 then. Was a human soul settling back in him? “No. I am Jack Hunter. Get out of me!” Now, he knew the pain Monstru had gone through for seven years. It was worse then looking at heaven, just watching the holy ones trying to kill them, and blessing the souls that were tainted. He had to get rid of this one, because he wanted to live with Caroline, and he wanted more meat and blood on his tongue. But was it possible for the demon to merge with the spirit and ultimately come out with an evil one? It was. But he needed more time. Maybe the week after…
Licking his lips as he cast his eyes on a particularly fit woman jogging down the road, he jerked as he felt the cold hands of a ghost slipping onto his muscled abdomen. “Thinking of breaking my heart?” “No. I was thinking of having her for desert.” “Oh, I see. you’re telling the truth, and I know another demon who still loves me.” “My brother…” he gasped. He thought Ian hated the one who cheated on him.
Janet Parker was fit enough to use a wheelchair to the mental ward, where a prisoner was kept. “So, Miller, who is the killer?” An ex-reporter, but still hungry for information to feed the media. “It’s him… It’s him! He’ll kill you, I tell you, He’ll kill us all!” There was worry in his voice. “Monstru… Monstru… Monstru… MONSTRU!” He shook, fear rattling his bones within. Well, being wheel-chair bound wasn’t that bad… It was only being mad that was really the problem. “He is a monster… He’s out to eat us all! He’s a demon from hell… Damn! Felicia was right! And we all know it’s him now. The devil in him is Satan’s very grandson!” He then fell, onto the spongy floor of the room, still wrapped up in a straight jacket. The nurses went inside with another syringe…
Patrick was nervous, simply staring out of the window, waiting for the sun to set. Monstru seemed to get excited. “That’s right, bastard, get ready to eat Paullina. You’re sick, brother. You are a disgrace to our family. I HATE YOU!” That raged through his thoughts, killing every other. But a worse fate awaited him. Didn’t he watch as he saw his brother be half-killed? He’d probably kill him with his bare hands, ripping out his flesh violently, to give him the painfully slow death. He prayed to God he wouldn’t. But the almighty in heaven would never answer that prayer. He couldn’t control the demon.
It was only the afternoon, but the sun was starting to disappear, to show itself across the world, and night would fall soon. He needed a plan, but he had to stay in the office to clear out the letters from many other people. A silent tear rolled down his face, the salty river gushing out from his soul, but he never let loose one. He only felt the water fall onto his palm, cold, but not liquid. He hung his head low, knowing he was helpless, hopeless, and his life was going to end soon.
Alas, hours had passed since five, and light completely disappeared from Manhattan, and the street lights came back on. The streets were getting even emptier by the second, and then, no one was there, except for Monstru walking towards Paullina’s house. She would be devoured soon. He sobbed in the men’s room. His girlfriend, gone from his life, wrenched from him forcefully. It broke his heart to a million pieces. He then knew the pain Dexter had suffered when he learnt his lover was cheating on him, then was killed. His sorrow was heard, and pity came from the men who worked with him closely enough.
She had a gun ready, and nearly got the monster, but she missed. And that was the worst mistake of her life. Monstru silenced the screams quickly, and ate her throat. Two days, he needed some nourishment. He used to only eat a bit, and stuff the rest of the body parts into the closet of the ‘haunted’ house on the hill. He loved it. But he needed to lead them to the slightly narcissistic demon that towered over them, standing at over eight feet tall in his true form.
They carried the victim away, but they had no suspect yet. Her sister was infamous for stealing boyfriends, and any of the heartbroken females might have stabbed her in the neck, leaving the blade to stick out after the inscription on the wall. The paint had soaked into her blood and poisoned her, but she had also bled out much. This killer wasn’t really merciful; the older wound was the one at her stomach, and it took at least half an hour to carve out the message, then shock would seep in, when he slammed the dagger into the throat. Slowly, the liquid of life would flow out of the victim, as he had missed the main artery. And he made sure she couldn’t scream simply by ripping her tongue violently out.
Tears fell onto the table, splashing onto the cold, hard surface, and killing the bacteria that it touched. She felt weak and vulnerable to any attacks. She curled up in bed, not wanting to go to work. She was excused, because of family issues- her close sister’s death.
Hunter threw the eyes of the dead cat out of the window. He hated felines, because one had nearly killed his pet mouse in the first grade. Wait. He was killed five years ago. He was about 27 then. Was a human soul settling back in him? “No. I am Jack Hunter. Get out of me!” Now, he knew the pain Monstru had gone through for seven years. It was worse then looking at heaven, just watching the holy ones trying to kill them, and blessing the souls that were tainted. He had to get rid of this one, because he wanted to live with Caroline, and he wanted more meat and blood on his tongue. But was it possible for the demon to merge with the spirit and ultimately come out with an evil one? It was. But he needed more time. Maybe the week after…
Licking his lips as he cast his eyes on a particularly fit woman jogging down the road, he jerked as he felt the cold hands of a ghost slipping onto his muscled abdomen. “Thinking of breaking my heart?” “No. I was thinking of having her for desert.” “Oh, I see. you’re telling the truth, and I know another demon who still loves me.” “My brother…” he gasped. He thought Ian hated the one who cheated on him.
Janet Parker was fit enough to use a wheelchair to the mental ward, where a prisoner was kept. “So, Miller, who is the killer?” An ex-reporter, but still hungry for information to feed the media. “It’s him… It’s him! He’ll kill you, I tell you, He’ll kill us all!” There was worry in his voice. “Monstru… Monstru… Monstru… MONSTRU!” He shook, fear rattling his bones within. Well, being wheel-chair bound wasn’t that bad… It was only being mad that was really the problem. “He is a monster… He’s out to eat us all! He’s a demon from hell… Damn! Felicia was right! And we all know it’s him now. The devil in him is Satan’s very grandson!” He then fell, onto the spongy floor of the room, still wrapped up in a straight jacket. The nurses went inside with another syringe…
Patrick was nervous, simply staring out of the window, waiting for the sun to set. Monstru seemed to get excited. “That’s right, bastard, get ready to eat Paullina. You’re sick, brother. You are a disgrace to our family. I HATE YOU!” That raged through his thoughts, killing every other. But a worse fate awaited him. Didn’t he watch as he saw his brother be half-killed? He’d probably kill him with his bare hands, ripping out his flesh violently, to give him the painfully slow death. He prayed to God he wouldn’t. But the almighty in heaven would never answer that prayer. He couldn’t control the demon.
It was only the afternoon, but the sun was starting to disappear, to show itself across the world, and night would fall soon. He needed a plan, but he had to stay in the office to clear out the letters from many other people. A silent tear rolled down his face, the salty river gushing out from his soul, but he never let loose one. He only felt the water fall onto his palm, cold, but not liquid. He hung his head low, knowing he was helpless, hopeless, and his life was going to end soon.
Alas, hours had passed since five, and light completely disappeared from Manhattan, and the street lights came back on. The streets were getting even emptier by the second, and then, no one was there, except for Monstru walking towards Paullina’s house. She would be devoured soon. He sobbed in the men’s room. His girlfriend, gone from his life, wrenched from him forcefully. It broke his heart to a million pieces. He then knew the pain Dexter had suffered when he learnt his lover was cheating on him, then was killed. His sorrow was heard, and pity came from the men who worked with him closely enough.
She had a gun ready, and nearly got the monster, but she missed. And that was the worst mistake of her life. Monstru silenced the screams quickly, and ate her throat. Two days, he needed some nourishment. He used to only eat a bit, and stuff the rest of the body parts into the closet of the ‘haunted’ house on the hill. He loved it. But he needed to lead them to the slightly narcissistic demon that towered over them, standing at over eight feet tall in his true form.
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