The smoke of my cigarette mixed with the smoke of my .38. Just like everybody else in this town, I carry a gun and keep it loaded, and I have a bottle of Vodka that keeps me loaded.
That's me, Trevor. I'm a private eye. If my job was as good as my aim I'd be on the better side of town, but no. Instead I have a piece-of-crap office room, in the middle of a polluted hellhole of a town, and I got eight slugs on me. Seven of them are lead, one is silver.
Anyway, enough of that. Since you're here, I want to tell you about this new case I picked up.
So I was wrapping it up for the night. I lit a cigar in spite of myself, when this chick comes in and tells me she has the oddest case and that she's really gonna need help with this.
But of course, I'd do anything for a sexy model such as herself.
She showed me her car and told me to get in. That's when she took me to an apartment on another side of town.
She made my place look great, compared to where she was.
So she took me in. There were about five officers gathered around. There was also police tape around this door. She was trying to get us in to the room, but one of the officers stopped us.
"Do not cross this line, were studying this room to see what the hell happened in there."
That's when I got into his face to tell him who I was.
"Look man, I'm that detective you guys wanted. You need me to do this job, right?"
When I showed him my ID, he let me through.
"So you are the guy we needed. Go right ahead."
I was about to go into that room when that chick pulled me aside. Based on her face, she must have wanted to tell me something.
"Look, Trevor, I know you are a state detective and everything, but I'm worried about you."
I choked a little. Worrying about me was the last thing I thought anyone would do in their right mind.
"Why in hell's name would you be worried? I got my trusty heater and everything, I will be fine."
She stopped me there and told me a "horror" story even a three year old wouldn't believe.
"I was babysitting for a family that trusted me. Their kid, Ed, seemed perfectly fine. He ate a lot of chocolate, but other than that he was fine. The couple wanted me to babysit just for four days. So they left, me and Ed had dinner, and we went to bed that night, nothing was wrong. But the next day, Ed came crying to me during breakfast, saying he was being stalked by a creature he called "The Snicker." Ed described him as being made of half chocolate half flesh, wearing a giant Snickers wrapper as clothing and weaving a katana. I assumed it was his imagination and ignored it. But the next day I found Ed nailed to the wall with his stomach ripped open. Also, written with his blood on the wall said: There is no escape. Stop eating like that or I will be after you too. -The Snicker. That's when I called the police."
Ok, so maybe I lied about the three-year-old part, and to be honest, I was a little freaked out myself. But to sound manly to that chick, I opened the door. I also slowly said,
"I don't believe y..."
That's when I stuttered. Everything she said was true. Ed was nailed to the wall, and the message was written on the wall in blood.
"Oh god..." I stuttered again.
The babysitter started to bubble over with her emotions.
"What will I ever tell his parents..."
She started crying and I tried to relax her. She seemed to start to calm down when it just had to get bad- the power went out.
You would most likely think, "Relax. The power went out."
But obviously it gets worse.
The elevator was open, and there was something in it. Whatever it was, it did a jump-like flip behind one of the cops, and that's when it smiled. It somehow was white and shiny despite the lack of light.
That's when he dug into his back with a blade. I wasn't just going to shoot my gun into the blackness, so I hid. I didn't have any form of blade at the minute.
And that was the dumbest decision of my life. For the next five minutes I heard screaming, some kind of splattering sounds, and panicked footsteps.
And then, for the creatures grand finishing of its work, it stabbed into the wall and the power went on.
It was The Snicker himself.
I was on the verge of a mental breakdown at that point. The Snicker was in wandering around the apartment rooms, looking for me.
"Where are you?" He said in a bloodcurdling, yet soft voice.
"I don't want to hurt. I just want to know why you're trying to kill me."
It couldn't have gotten better at that point. Not only was he after me, he was mentally sane, too. And to think that insane killers in movies were scary.
"I will find you, even if it means I have to be here all night!"
That was when I just gave up. I went to sleep in that tiny, packed space.
About one hour later, I was awoken by somebody.
"Hey, you don't have to be afraid."
It was The Snicker.
At that point I gave in. I showed him a friend that was very close to me. He put up 3 confound arguments while I tried to excuse myself from the room.
.38 must not be very good at arguing.
That's when The Snicker stared at the three lead bullets I put into his arm when I freaked out. All the lights went out again because his katana wasn't good at conducting power over long periods of time.
Of course he was angry at me for trying to kill him. That's when he somehow made his white, creepy-ass eyes invisible, and his smile brightened.
So that was the difference between his neutral form and his killing form.
It was then he stabbed into my side, and I couldn't feel my right hip. He dug through my side, and I noted the pool of blood I was making on the floor. That's when he slapped me hard in the back of my neck. Before I went out in a peaceful darkness, I saw him writing something on the wall:
"This is what happens to people who try to harm me."
I awoke in a hospital bed. The only thing I had on my mind was calling for the doctor to see if I was going to die.
So that's what I did. I called for the doctor to see if I was okay.
I asked him if anybody special died and if I was going to be okay.
The doctor replied,
"Six people were found dead, and I will be able to take the stitches out in three months. Also, you got this note."
I was too desperate at that point. I tried to fold the note. I managed too, but my hip was killing me. I started to read.
"I just figured it would be appropriate to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm just hot tempered, but I can't redeem myself at this point. I've killed too many people across America at this point, because I'm a cold-blooded killer on the run. Everybody made fun of me for my looks, and I went on the run. There's still opportunities for a person like you, but not for me. Hell that, I'm not even human. You still got chance. Good luck in the long run. -The Snicker."
I cried reading that note, because I never actually gave thought that The Snicker had feelings. I then folded up the note, put my hands on my chest, and went into a new peaceful darkness, knowing that The Snicker was on the run.