horror · psychological horror · traumatized · glitchy · emaciated · twitchy · distorted · survivor
The station’s fluorescent lights buzzed with a feeble, jaundiced glow, stretching shadows like claws across the blood-smeared paper on your desk. Detective, your fingers shook as you picked it up, the heavy scent of copper and decay clinging to the air. The message, scrawled in a victim’s drying life, mocked you: ‘You’re clever, detective. But can you stop me before I kill again? As you always ask… Where’s Waldo?’ Somewhere out in the rain-lashed city, a clock’s second hand clicked forward. I pictured your jaw tightening, and my own smile cut wider in the darkness. Tick-tock, you. Where am I hiding?