The Hardest Choice He Had to Make
Tragedy, Romance, Horror-- rated T for violence
The news stand at the corner store had never sold so many papers!
It was great news for the stand. Business had been slowing; people were sick of the same kind of news. They had gotten used to ghost attacks and spectral terror after a while. Even the unfortunate fatal attacks had lost their novelty. Eventually, people just wanted to hear about something... different.
Well, different is what they got that Friday evening.
The main article today was titled: "Murder on Main Street!" And beneath it read the banner- "Strange human-committed murders were hugely publicized, but police remain clueless as to the killer's identity." The papers were flying from the shelves! Everyone seemed interested in the ghost-less case. Even Jack Samuel Fenton wasn't an exception.
The large man, clad in an orange jumpsuit, came strutting down the street, a small package in his overlarge hands. He seemed very pleased with himself about something and kept sneaking peeks at his little box, almost as if to make sure it was really there. Each time he saw it resting in his gloved palm, his merry grin grew wider.
Whistling now, he came to the cornershop. Being a very unobservant man, he would have missed the hubub around the store were it not for one woman's loud statement: "What has the world come to when ghosts aren't the most evil creatures to walk our streets?"
Jack, who had turned so fast with the word "ghost" that he had cricked his neck, hustled as fast as his girth would allow toward the bustle around the news stand. Seeing that the crowd was centered around the daily paper, he headed for the near-empty shelves and countertop. With difficulty, he reached the stack of papers displayed on the counter, leaving a trail of disheveled customers behind him. He stretched his arm down to pick up one of the boldly embossed papers, and ignoring the uncomfortable objections of his rather smaller neighbors, read the title.
Jack's eyes widened. A murderer in Amity? And one that wasn't committed by a ghost? His jaw tightened uncharacteristically. He clutched the paper tightly, his mouth set in a grim line. Jack would never have admitted it, but this news frightened him. After all, he was an expert in the paranormal, and the thought, as the woman had said, that ghosts weren't the worst thing floating around Amity Park, was bone-chilling.
Forgetting about the paper still clutched in his hands along with his precious package, he pushed his way back through the crowd, oblivious to the annoyed calls from the store hand. "Hey! You have to pay for that!"