Mr. Smiley

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Seven year old Gracie Newman can’t wait for her family to meet her new friend, ‘Mr. Smiley’… Unfortunately she has no idea that he is also a deranged serial killer recently escaped from a local mental asylum! This is a truly horrifying short story, filled with non-stop blood, gore and chilling twists hiding around every corner. Read on if you dare… *** TRIGGER WARNING – This story contains extreme violence, coarse language and has a scene with sexual intercourse. Readers, you have been warned! ***

Horror / Thriller
Bec Middleton
Age Rating:

Chapter 1 - He's Escaped

Sirens flashed across the alleyway as a sea of blues and reds appeared in turn, across every surface the eye could see. Even in the shadowy darkness of yet another night shift the police squad car lit up the surrounding area like a Christmas tree as several figures moved about, busily at work to protect and examine their newest crime scene.

There had been yet another gang-related murder in the sleepy little town of Jefferson... and a messy one at that! Blood and bullets scattered the floor as the cool night air wafted in.

“Where the hell is she?” came the insistent voice of Police Chief Anderson, “Parsons! Parsons, get over here!”

The balding man was in his mid-forties and dressed in his usually well-pressed uniform as he locked eyes on the youngest of his detectives with a frown.

Victoria Parsons glanced up from where she had been kneeling over a key piece of evidence on the floor below her and searched the sea of faces for the familiar one of her boss. After locating him and with a heavy sigh she pulled herself up to stand and marched across to where he stood waiting for her. His impatience could clearly be seen by the way he was standing; his hands rested on his hips and his foot impatiently tapped over and over on the asphalt road as she came to stand beside him.

Detective Parsons was plain and yet beautiful with her stunning features and natural olive complexion. She wore her long wavy brown hair tied neatly into a singular plat which draped all the way down to her lower back and only a minimal amount of make-up. Her eyes were chocolate brown and her figure was the perfect hourglass shape. Standing at five feet and ten inches in height Victoria was a force to be reckoned with, even without her trademark six inch high heels.

“Chief Anderson, what brings you here?” she enquired with a tilt of her head.

It wasn’t usual for the Police Chief to attend a crime scene, not unless there was a good enough reason for him to. Something serious must have happened.

“Detective Parsons, what have we got here?” he asked, seemingly ignoring her question as he glanced around at the chaotic scene before him.

Realising that her superior obviously wasn’t in the mood for a chat, the young Detective gave him a brief rundown of their progress in her latest case.

“Sir, I’m afraid it’s another drive-by…” she reported, crossing her arms over her chest, “Two victims. It appears they were cornered and gunned down here in the alleyway. No sign of the murder weapon yet but we’ve managed to locate several 38 calibre cartridges at the entrance to the alleyway. My guess is they drove by and unloaded hell on these poor unsuspecting people, though I have no idea why. They don’t look like any kind of gang bangers I’ve ever seen before.”

The Chief appeared to take it all in, nodding his head before he spoke again.

“Mm hmm… any tyre marks found?”

“Yeah… over here.” the Detective nodded as she began to lead him across to where several charcoal skid-marks remained on the slick road’s surface, no doubt left behind by the attacker’s car as it sped off only hours earlier.

Detective Parsons knelt down beside the tyre marks as she continued to report.

“I’ve already sent photos of the tyre-marks off to be analysed by forensics. I’m hoping they can at least figure out a make or model from the impressions…” she pointed off down the road, “We can see that the assailants headed off down Kingschurch Boulevard, in a Southerly direction. Other than that, your guess is as good as mine, Sir.”

Chief Anderson seemed strangely silent as he glanced off down the road in question, apparently mulling over the new information with his hands still resting casually on his hips. He appeared to look anxious as he pursed his lips tightly together to form a thin line. Detective Parsons noticed this and narrowed her eyes with intrigue.

“Sir, is something wrong?” she enquired, pulling herself up to stand once more.

He let out a great sigh before turning to face her with an apprehensive expression painting his face. It was clear he had something on his mind, but was it related to their case? Or was it something else? She couldn’t tell.

Swallowing nervously, the Police Chief opened his mouth to explain.

“Parsons, I uh… I need to tell you about something... I just received a call-”

“-Relating to this case?” she asked.

“No… no, not this case, Victoria...” he replied vaguely, but instantly alerting her by the use of her first name.

The Chief never used her first name unless it were something serious. And now he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Something was definitely wrong.

He continued on nervously, “The call was from the Asylum.”

Her heart suddenly sank deep down into the lowest depths of her chest as the world around her began to blur and darken. The mere mention of that place gave her a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, one she couldn’t seem to escape.

Jefferson Asylum had been buried in the deepest, darkest part of her memory for many years and she wondered why he was mentioning it now, allowing it to resurface from the depths of her already shattered mind.

Surely the Chief was aware of her connection to that terrible place!

So why would they be calling now? What could they possibly want?

The Detective could feel her lips begin to tremble as her legs wobbled beneath her. Her heart thumped so loudly she was certain it would soon burst right through her chest.

“Victoria, I’m afraid it’s happened…” the Chief began, his expression now darkening as he looked her right in the eye.

“He’s escaped.”

She didn’t say a word - she didn’t need to.

Instead she simply spoke her mind at that very moment.


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