Ficly

Lone Hunter

IT, was in all the papers, loved ones found dead. Whoever it was, they were strong enough to break their victim’s bones.

BODIES, had been found murdered, all in the same area. Nothing was more disturbing about the scenes than the level of anger that emitted from bloody grass, pavement, and dirt.

RAGE, was behind every pound of missing flesh. They’d each been hunted, caught, dispatched, and dragged through the underbrush, behind garbage cans, dumped in ditches and found in backyards too.

SHE, had been warned about him, his vicious nature. The authorities had been called to their home multiple times. There was never any proof pointed directly at him. But she couldn’t bring herself to admit her good sweet boy could do such terrible things. He was loving and kind towards her, so he must be to everyone and everything else?

AFTER, his rampages, he would sneak back into the house. He would spend an hour cleaning himself up. Next, he’d get himself a drink of water, then curl up in his bed and dream of rabbits.

View this story's 3 comments.