Deadly

Just a typical suburban town... 

No problems, happy children, strong marriages; everything you could ever want.

But... it didn't stay that way...

The first few deaths didn't raise much concern... the next five did, but none cared to look into it. After twenty five deaths within the span of two and a half months, residents became concerned. 

They started a neighborhood watch. It worked for a while. They disbanded soon after the deaths stopped, but they began again. Not quite as harsh as the were before, only two a month, but they still had an impact.

First it was just people living on the streets (which there weren't many of). Then it was small time offenders, but then it was happy couples, and small families with older children.

Victims died in many different ways...

Some looked like suicide, some were very simple, and some looked as though the were tortured. The only thing that tied the deaths together was a scratch hidden behind the victims left ear. The mark started behind the top of the ear, it bleeds below the ear and down the neck. It then wraps around their neck four times, only four, no more no less. It then flows from the back of the neck down to the right shoulder, ending at the curve of the muscle. 

It was that way with every victim.

Such care and detail went into such a thing, the lines weren't harsh. They were small and delicate, like cut with an intricate blade.

None could put together the clues. They assumed there was a wild animal loose in the town, one that possessed small claws. That would explain the suicide, residents were fearful and ran away; normal deaths would also make logical sense. What they failed to realize was that the damage done to torture victims.

Disemboweled, dismembered, stuffed with newspaper, missing fingernails, or even drained of their blood.

They planned to brush it off, as if it didn't happen or didn't matter. But it did, especially when the torture became the only method of death.

Now... this was a small town. On the outskirts of a big city, located in the rural countryside.

And in this town lived an older woman, in her mid 40’s. She had a daughter in her late teen years, and named her Myuku. 

Myuku and her mother lived alone, as her father left soon after Myuku was born. Naturally, they didn’t fit into such a perfect town, and were labeled as the “loveless outcasts”. But they lived happily, they ran a small garden that supplied food, had a few pets, and lived life as the dreamt.

To take her mind off of things, Myuku typically took walks to clear her mind, but once rumor of the deaths hit her mothers ears, she was locked in her room... and ordered not to leave.

This was around the time of the town watch creation, and soon she was let free again.

Her mother was hesitate, but trusted her daughter fully, and allowed her to leave the house at her own free will.

One day, while cleaning her daughters room... she found something small lying under Myukus’ pillow. It was a blade. A small, delicate yet sharp, and slightly maroon blade.

She decided to keep it and talk with Myuku later, as a normal concerned mother would.

So when Myuku came back from her afternoon walk through the woods, her mother sat her down for her favorite dinner, Pork Tenderloin with broccoli and potatoes. She mentioned the blade a few times, but her daughter never seemed to catch on. So she blatantly asked if Myuku had beef self harming. She received a very confused look and then a laughing ‘no’. Still not believing, she made Myuku show her her arms, wrists, ankles, calves, thighs, even her stomach.

She was clean.

Myuku and her mother both went to bed happy that night, with weight lifted off of their chest. 

And yet... her mother wondered why the blade was such a color. She thought if was due to self harm, and yet Myuku was clean. She decided to look more in depth in the morning after Myuku had left.

The next day, after she was out and about, her mother went to go and get the blade from her bedside drawer. She grabbed it carefully and took it into the kitchen.

While reading and rereading the paper, she found that the description of the marking on each victims neck kept drawing her attention. She read it over and over, until the words started to blur together.

“They were small and delicate, like cut with an intricate blade.”

She read that sentence once, twice, on the third read she put it together. She was so blind. How could she have not realized it sooner.

She reached for the blade, having set it somewhat far in fear of cutting herself. She grasped and groped, but there was no blade. She turned towards her hand, looking, she noticed almost immediately that the blade was gone... but a small pool of red liquid was left behind. It glistened in the warm rays of sun shining through the small house. It was a dark red. A blood red...

Myukus’ mother hastily stood from the table, wanting to get away from such a horrible thought such as the one she was having.

Myuku walked through the door not long after. A small bounce in her step, and a bright smile on her pale face. 

She greeted her mother and sat in the chair nearest to her. While she sit still, her mother too this moment to study her. 

Myukus’ hair was slightly messy, abnormally so as she loved to keep her hair nice and neat. Her clothes were slightly torn, and splotches of dirt riddled her jeans. Finally, the most obvious and frightening feature. Her pale skin had blood all over it, and in her hand. The blade. She was still smiling, happy as can bee, as if she had no idea what she had done.

Her mother looked at her, shocked as to what her own little girl had done. 

“Why?” She uttered.

“I wanted them to feel what we felt. Go through what we had to.” Myuku paused. “Maybe then we could finally fit in... Maybe then we could finally belong.” Myuku began to laugh. Normally at first, but it became crazy, almost insane. 

Her mother came to realize what she knew was true all along...

Man truly is the most deadly animal.