Blood, Chapter One
Imagine looking through a window and seeing blood. And the victim. The Nightworld is connected to this.
As she peered through the window, she saw the crime scene, untouched except for the footprints left by the murderer.
The floor was covered in red sticky liquid. Blood. The ceiling and walls were covered with the victim's plasma, repeatedly saying "I've got you!"
The originally blue curtains had been turned into a disgusting shade of purple. The previously cream carpet had turned into an ocean of blood. The furniture was mahogany and white, the only clean thing in the entire room, apart from the body, sitting exactly as before she'd been killed, watching TV.
The woman was untouched by her blood, except for her hair. She had been dressed to kill, wearing a strapless white top and black jeans, ready to go out, but just waiting for someone. She looked normal except for the look of terror frozen upon her face, her blonde hair a sticky mess from the blood covering her hair as if someone had shampooed it. Startled, she knew that woman.
That was when she felt the hands at her throat…