Crime Story

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Sweet Revenge


“No please don’t. Noooooo”.


On a midsummer evening the moon was penetrating its silver light onto the street below castings dark shadows and creating a reflection of the town on the river. The stars were looking down on the world and swans were swimming with their love ones. The town was alive; bars were open and full of people drinking the night away. Men and women were dancing all over the streets of London, laughter filled the air.


I looked at the small town that I had lived in for two years. It was a village very unlike the town I grew up in. Donsfield was oblivious to the outside world. This was a village that attended church every Sunday and everyone was best friends with one another. There was never any trouble and each house was picture perfect. They all had a variety of different types and colours of flowers and each one was specially cared for. In London, where I grew up it was dirty and smelly. My dad was an alcoholic and my mum dealt and used drugs so I had had one of the worst childhoods possible, which is why I decided to runaway as soon as I was old enough and fulfil my career as a detective.


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This was not the first place I went to though. I lived miles north and I fell in love with a girl called Rebecca. We planned to get married but then my life was destroyed when I discovered her murdered in her flat.


I decided to make a fresh start. It looked like the perfect village. For the first month no one talked to me, I didn’t fit in. I spent all my time in my tiny damp little flat doing paperwork. After a while though I made friends with a bar manager and we are now great friends. I had been able to find work doing my dream job. I was qualified in murder mostly but it was not much fun as paper work was all that needed doing. The most serious case I had come across was that a dog had been kidnapped, but it turned out that the dog had escaped and fallen in a ditch.


But a month ago something shocking had happened that had the whole village talking. The mayor had been murdered. More specifically he had been hanged from his bedroom ceiling. He had been sleeping in the castle. The castle was like any other, it had harsh grey stone, partly covered with green and gold lichen, loomed above them. In places the wall had tumbled into piles of random boulders, while the towers, still dark and tall against, the light blue summer sky, were ragged with holes; they looked like like the arms of an old, worn out jumper.


The Mayor had always looked happy ands kind. He had a smile that would light up the whole room. His hair was a light brown color and was always combed back neatly. He was a man that enjoyed his food, so round the stomach he was quite chubby. He also had warm blue eyes that women always adored. He had been married to his wife Victoria and they were not able to have children, although he had longed for one.


But now he was covered from head to toe in his own blood. His eyes were no longer warm; they were cold and empty. His hands and feet had been cut off and the blood was still dripping creating a dark pool of red blood on the clean white carpet. When I arrived on the scene the mayor’s wife, Victoria was still there. Paralyzed with shock and fear. She stood there as pale as death. Her hands were shaking and her diamond rings were stabbing her hand but it was like she was not in her body. She was just there transfixed to her husbands face, which was covered in blood and his head had had a knife cut across his fore head and the last of the blood was now trickling down his neck and landing in the pool of doom. No one could get through to Victoria she did not respond to actions and sound in front of her face. Then she broke down, she collapsed on the floor and started screaming and kicking and crying all at the same time. In the end she had to be sedated and was taken to hospital.


The forensic scientists also were transfixed to the spot except they were not looking at the mayor. They were looking at the wall by the bed. Right in the middle was written REVENGE IS SWEET in his red dripping blood.


It normally takes at least two days for the forensic scientists to find clues to help find the murderer, but here it took about two hours. On the door handle there was a trickle of blood on it. When we found Victoria she had a plaster on her index finger, but the DNA results would take a while about three days to come back.


The whole atmosphere of the town had changed.


Yes the moon was still out and the stars looked down on the world. But the town was no longer alive, bars were closed at 8 p.m. and men and women were in their homes with their children, sitting by their warm, crackling fires and with their doors and windows locked. Even the swans were no longer swimming in the river.


I had the job of interviewing Victoria in a psychiatric hospital. When I entered the room she was sitting there still as pale as death and as thin as a skeleton as she would not except any food. I sat down in front of her and before I said anything she started talking.


“He was standing in the corner covered in black clothing. All I could see was his eyes…his eyes were cold, evil and filled with terror. He stood there for ages just watching Jim, just watching him with those cold eyes. Just watching”.


Victoria stopped talking; I couldn’t get another word out of her so I decided to leave.


I had then been ordered to go back to the house that night when no one else was there to see if I could spot any clues.


I was in my car driving in the darkness of the night. The moon was full and there was not a single star in the sky. The trees looked like shadows of humans with dark secrets, eyes popped out of the bushes every so often. I heard the wind wailing out of my car window. A howl of a wolf was in the distance.


I got out of my car, stepping onto old, overgrown grass that gripped my leg like it didn’t want you to move. I got out my bag and all I could see was the outline of the old castle that now was deserted. I entered through the big door and the sound of it scraping the floor echoed through the entire castle. I entered the big hall, which had many paintings and I felt like someone was watching me. I called out to see if anyone was still around, as I didn’t really want to do this on my own. The only reply I got was my echo. As I climbed the daunting stairs to the murder room I looked at the other paintings that were along the wall. They were quite realistic but disturbing. Women were being stabbed and strangled by what looked like tall dark shadows, no features of the shadow could be seen. At the top of the stairs there was a very large painting of a lady with a knife to her heart and her face was cold and even though she was dead you could still see she was frightened.


Upstairs there were many rooms that all looked the same and I couldn’t remember which room the Mayor had been found in. Cobwebs were hanging from the ceiling; the spiders were sleeping but still waiting for their next meal. I could hear nothing, not a creak of a door or a rustle of a mouse. Just silence.


I was very tired and decided that it wouldn’t hurt if I slipped in one of the guest bedrooms to rest my head and continue the work tomorrow when it would be lighter.


The lights were not working. From the faint light from the moon and my torch all I could make out were the dark mysterious shadows.


I felt like I was being watched again, I turned round and bumped into a great big statue. With my torch I could see that it was of a man, he looked scared like something was coming. As I continued walking down the hallway I noticed a couple of thorn bushes. I wondered why they were there. Then more appeared until it was like a sea of thorns, not knowing where one thorn bush began and the other ended. Even though I only had my torch you could still see the thorn prick shining, ready to give someone pain. A long, windy, spiky vine caught my shoulder. I was not able to get it off, as it was totally covered in thorns. It was like the vine had a mind of its own and would not let me free. In the end I let myself get pricked and the blood ran down my hand onto the floor where it was camouflaged and absorbed into the carpet.


I did not sleep at all that night. I kept having visions of dark shadows capturing people and strangling and killing them. Also every time I shut my eyes there were a pair of eyes in my dreams. They were filled with fear and terror and they were bloodshot. When I woke up I was shaking and coming out in a cold sweat. My mind was full with screams and cries. I didn’t know what was going on. When I looked in the mirror the reflection staring back at me was not my own but the Mayor’s face and pouring out of his mouth and scar on his forehead was blood.


I had a cold shower and decided to try and forget about what had just happened.


The sun was now high in the sky and I had to carry on with my work rapidly as the scientists may come back to do more research. I walked in to a room, which was covered in photographs of the Mayor and Victoria. It showed all different events like birthdays, anniversary’s, carnivals, and Christmas. In every picture they looked so happy.


It reminded me of Rebecca my girlfriend who had been murdered. I will never forget the night I found her. We had just had an argument and I felt really bad so I decided to call round even though it was early morning and apologise. When I walked into that room there was a faint bad odour. I could hear the clock ticking. I called out to Rebecca but there was no reply. I walked into her room. She was there, lying on her bed. She had been stripped naked and her throat had been slit. Carved on her right leg was her name and her feet had been half cut off so her toes were spread all a long the carpet. I just sat next to her crying until the police came. Sometimes at night that horrifying event is replayed in my mind.


I started to look through all the draws. Only finding socks and jumpers. I walked into the last room and searched in the last draw. In the bottom of it there was a large brown envelope.


Was this the clue I needed to help my case?


Yes it was!





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