Final Last Words

Monica is the only survivor of Jacky, the modern day Jack the ripper. He doesn't know she's still alive, so when she wakes up from a Coma three years later; Jacky isn't too thrilled. Monica goes back to her life, but soon she realizes that it isn't as safe as she thought. Tragedy soon strikes her life, and she finds herself at a point where she wishes she wasn't alive . She soon finds herself being hunted like an animal, and she soon realizes that she will have to protect herself. The question that plays in her mind is: Who is Jacky, and why does he want her dead. EDITED VERSION OF THE STORY. WILL BE POSTING ONE CHAPTER AT A TIME. READS WILL DECIDE IF I KEEP WRITING IT. THIS IS A SHORT STORY. THERE WILL BE ONLY 5 OR 6 CHAPTERS TO THIS.


7. Final Last Words (final chapter!!!!)

When I made it to my house I wasn’t keen on letting things go. I rushed into my room, and went into my closet. I pulled out a suitcase, and threw it on my bed. I knew that if I stayed in this house any longer, I would certainly go mad.

As I opened the suitcase, I froze. A knife sat in it, and it wasn’t clean. I ran my fingers over the blade, and rubbed my fingers together. It was blood, very fresh blood. My eyes grew wide, and grabbed it. It seemed familiar in my grip, but I know I haven’t held a knife before. I threw it in the closet. I went back to packing, but I heard a laugh come from my closet.I slowly turned around, looking at the now dark closet.

I shrugged it off, and went back to packing.

“It’s always a wonderful sight to see you scared.” I froze, and looked around. “Oh, so oblivious.”

“Where are you,” I asked.

“Right in front of you.”

“You’re not in front of me.”

“I never said standing up.”

Slowly a man slid from under my bed. Dark hair hung from his head in clinks, his green eyes dark with a murderous glare. I slowly stepped back.


He nodded, “Indeed I am.”

“Why are you here?”

“for you,” he walked up and smashed his lips on mine. I accepted it.

“I missed you,” I said breathing hard.

“I missed you too my peach.”

“Does the police know anything about you?”

“No, I’m still anonymous.”

“I was so worried,” I turned in his arms.

“I was fine,” he responded.

“Don’t leave knives in my suitcase again?”

“Don’t worry I won’t.”

Pain shot up my neck, and it became hard to breath. I brought my hands up to my neck, only to feel blood. I slowly fell to the floor gasping for air.

“sorry peach, I work alone.” A grin spread across his face, and soon everything went dark. I fell in love with a serial killer, and he killed me. My final last words are, “I would do it again.”

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