Judging for Murder

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When a 13 year old girl is brought up on multiple charges of homicide, can her lawyer prove she's innocent? Or is she actually guilty? The chapters in this book are NOT in order. They're by whatever I write first. There IS some gore. Once all the chapters are done I'll correctly put them together in a separate book. This is simply to get feedback on each chapter individually. Each chapter, unless states otherwise, is written in journal-ish format. So it's kind of supposed to be like you're reading a diary.

Horror / Mystery
5.0 1 review
Age Rating:

Murder Scene 1

I found the perfect target today. It wasn’t planned or intentional. I most definitely wasn’t looking for one. I was out getting a few things from the store when I saw him. A child, no more than maybe six or seven, with his mother. It seemed that she was getting groceries while the boy was clearly not happy about it.

“No! I wanna go to the toy store!” he nearly shouted.

His mother didn’t bother to look at him as she grabbed an item from the shelves to examine, “I already told you, Russell, we’re not going to the toy store, and that’s that.”

“But it’s my birthday! That means I get what I want!”

That’s why he’s so upset? I thought. You would think children would be more grateful nowadays. As I thought to myself the boy and his mother rounded the corner into the next aisle. I simply stayed where I was and pretended to browse whatever was in front of me.

“And you haven’t behaved at all today either, that means no toy store.”

The boy continued to throw his fit in hopes of finally going to the toy store, but his mother never gave in. She eventually threatened to cancel his birthday party to get him to quiet down. It apparently succeeded as I no longer heard him complain. Some children are utterly ridiculous. Why is it so hard for them to understand how grateful they should be for what they already have. Oh well I suppose, nothing I can do about it.

Instead of checking out once I had everything needed I started following the mother and son from a distance. Once they finally went to check out I paid for my items and waited by the door. As I went to my car, I kept a careful watch on the duo so as not to lose them. Should I be driving? Of course not, but has that ever stopped me? Of course not. How else would I do my job though? Finally on the road, I continued following them. Like in the store I kept my distance, can’t have my new friends getting suspicious. It wasn’t long, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, before we pulled into a neighborhood. Looking around I could immediately tell this was for wealthier people. The houses were quite large, and everything had almost a fancy feel to it. Lawns were perfectly mowed. Children were out playing. It was almost nice. Once my friends pulled into a driveway I quickly took note of the address before driving past. After a few minutes of looking, I found a parking area for visitors to keep the streets from getting cluttered. This is where the fun truly started.

Quite casually I strolled back towards my new friend's house. Once at the end of the block, I was more cautious and paid more attention to my surroundings. When I was only a couple houses away I walked toward the backyard to help ensure I wasn’t seen. Luckily for me rich people seem to quite enjoy there plants and shrubs as there were plenty for me to hide in and make my way to the house undetected. I won’t say crawling through bushes is my favorite part of my job, but it’s not the worst part. Anyways, once I was in the correct yard, I did an exhaustive scan of the house. No security cameras, check. My friends room on the main floor, not check. It rarely ever was, but one can dream. Quickly and quietly I made my way toward a bush under an open window.

From what I could hear my guess was that I was near the living room. I sat there for several hours listening for anything that would tell me I correctly chose my new friends and hadn’t just wasted my time. Honestly, I probably didn’t need to stay for that long, but I wanted to be one-hundred percent sure I chose the right person to be my new friend. The first thing I had heard other than a television was yelling. The boy was at it again about the toy store. He was complaining to his dad that his mom didn’t take him to the god-forsaken toy store. But apparently his dad agreed with his mom's decision, and that did not sit well with the boy at all. It was quite easy to tell that this boy was what you would call a “spoiled brat.” By the time I decided to leave I had not only learned that I chose an impeccable new best friend, but that we wouldn’t have to wait to play to together either. His parents were going out tonight and leaving my friend with a babysitter. Even better was that my friend was grounded to his room after dinner. How perfect!

From there I went home and had a chat with another friend. She knew the rules, only one new friend at a time. Just because she’s pretty much a real-life Laughing Jack doesn’t mean she has magical powers. More than one new friend at a time could get us into a substantial amount of trouble. After that, it was all her. As I've expressed before, I will never understand why she dresses the way she does. Other than hopefully seeming friendlier, it makes no sense. Black and white clown dress and makeup, little matching clown hat, choker, gloves, the whole shabang. Maybe it was to be more like Laughing Jack, though she was like this before either of us knew who that was. Oh well, it’s her choice. So long as it doesn’t get us in trouble, I shouldn’t care. At least she was marginally sensible and didn’t wear clown shoes.

After waiting for my friend's parents to leave, she grabbed her bag and got to work. Like usual, always try the door first. Why waste time when you can walk right in. Today just happened to be our most lucky day; the back door was unlocked. She slowly made her way in, not knowing if the door would squeak at all. Silently she made her way toward what looked would be the kitchen and peered in. There was the babysitter looking for a snack. Must be a regular if they’re this comfortable in the home. They seemed quite simple and plain, would playing with them be worth the time? She cut that thought off however when she looked over to the living room and saw her moment. On the coffee table was a glass, more likely than not the sitter's drink. She quietly hurried over and dropped something in it. Once drank it wouldn’t be too long before the sitter passed out.

She grinned when the sitter was finally out cold. Looking at them as they slept, she couldn’t decide if they were worth playing with. Her new friend was more important though, so for now she left them. The boring parts were almost over. Humming quietly to herself she went up the stairs and located the little boy's room. She took a breath and tidied her outfit before knocking on the door.

“Go away!” was all she heard. Good, he was still upset.

“Sorry Russell, but I can’t do that,” she spoke in a contagiously ecstatic voice, “I can’t leave until I make you happy.” The door cracked open and she smiled at the boy.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Candy the clown, and I’m your new imaginary friend.”

She decided to go with Candy this time. Honestly she really needed to just settle on a name.

“Imaginary friend? But I didn’t make an imaginary friend.” Smart boy.

“Correct,” she giggled, “I’m someones old imaginary friend. When they outgrew me I decided to go around and make other kids happy!”

That seemed to excite him a bit, “Imaginary friends can do that?!”

“Yup-a-rooni! And a little birdy told me you weren’t having a good birthday.”

From there things went as planned. The boy happily invited her into his room and they started to play. Of course, she couldn’t make his birthday better without a gift. She gave him a toy her last friend let her have, a robot dinosaur. He loved it. They played for about an hour before she decided it was candy time.

“Hey Russell,” she called excitedly.


“Do you like candy?”

“Candy? I love candy!”

Her grin widened when she heard this, “What about lollipops?”

With an exhilarated nod of the head as confirmation, she pulled out a large, colorful lollipop and handed it to the boy. He took it and started eating it as they went back to playing. But after playing for a minute, something was wrong. The boy was no longer feeling good. His skin was starting to turn an unhealthy pale, and his breathing had become ragged. Blood began to trickle from his nose and mouth as his body began to spasm. Struggling to breathe and speak he looked at her for help. She just smiled and let out a gleeful laugh.

“What’s wrong Russell? You don’t look too good.” The boy tried to form a response only to get out nothing but gurgles as he started to foam at the mouth. “Don’t worry Rus. I can help you.”

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a knife and expeditiously plunged it into the top of his chest before gradually pulling it down further, cutting the boy open. The blood poured from the boy's chest, a most wondrous shade of red pooling around him. She dug her hands into the opening she created and began slowly pulling out his organs. The intestines were her favorite. Not bothering to rinse them of blood or whatever else may have been on them, she took her knife and cut the large intestine into smaller pieces before doing the same with the small intestine. Keeping an eye on the boy, she giggled while she watched the life drain from his eyes and roll into the back of his head. She finished with the intestines before pulling all his other organs out, the smile never leaving her face. Now that his insides were removed, she could start decorating. Using glitter, stickers, string, and anything else she could find she made each organ look nice and a pretty before hanging them up around the room. The heart was not among them though. No, that had a greater purpose. The heart was frosted and sprinkled with a candle sitting next to it. The bedsheets were hung from one wall to the other with the words ‘Happy Birthday!’ drawn out in a thick, crimson substance. The intestines, well, those were twisted and knotted into balloon animals spread around the room. With the rest of the work done, it was time for the piece de resistance. She grabbed her bag and yanked it over to the body, pulling out a needle and thread before dumping the rest of the contents into the boy's hollow form. Once as filled as it could be she messily stitched him up before grabbing some rope and hanging him from the ceiling… just… like… a pinata. Decorations were hung, the cake was in place, the banner looked beautiful, and the pinata was strung up. The party was finally ready. As much as she wanted to see the expressions of absolute joy upon the guest's faces, she couldn’t stay for their arrival. It would cause trouble.

She gathered her supplies and took one last look at her masterpiece before promptly leaving. However, on her way out she paused. Looking back at the sitter still asleep on the couch she stopped to think. It wasn’t a good idea seeing as she only had so much time, but nevertheless. After some minutes of thinking she decided that there was no harm letting the sitter join the party early. Taking another special lollipop from her bag, she placed it in there mouth before closing the jaw and carrying on her way. It had been a wonderful night. Everything went perfect. Maybe too perfect. She considered how oddly well everything played out that day and wondered if this meant something would go wrong next time.

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