meganelsword

It was the fourth victim this month, another late twenties female, petite and pretty, skinned alive just like the others. All of the females had been walking home alone when they were presumably abducted by the killer, gone without a trace for days before turning up in random warehouses to be found. He was being referred to as the Sundown Skinner, and he was beginning to strike fear in every woman in the general vacinity. Not you. This was your job, and you were filled with stronger sense of determination to catch him because the fourth victim was your sister. It was a way you had never imaged you would see her when Jack Crawford had you I.

Pervert, that’s the name you used to describe Kenny McCormick. It was the first impression you got from him when you had moved to South Park back in middle school and now you were reaching your junior year of high school. Even though the poor parka wearing boy was a gigantic pervert, you couldn’t help being attracted to him. You denied it of course, knowing exactly how a relationship like that would end. But, that didn’t mean you and the boy weren’t friends. You were both stuck with working on a school project together in your room currently. You tapped the end of your pencil against your binder while staring down at

“You want to…. spend the day with me?” Jericho nodded, his smile genuine. I stared at him in surprise, which caused his smile to falter a bit, but not by much. Jericho moved his hands back up, and began to sign again, like he felt his case would lose ground. But I ignored his hands and kept my stare to his face. With his bright green eyes, it’s no wonder his power has to do with them. You just can’t not look at his eyes, they’re beautiful. His hair is puffy, kinda looking like a cloud on top, but it falls carelessly around his head, framing Jericho’s face. I lifted my stare up a good deal, which s

Maybe it was the way he acted like he didn't care, maybe it was the way that his dead stare at his work pulled you in, drew you in making you wonder what he was thinking, trying to figure him out, unsuccessful in every attempt, but still you tried. You couldn't help but feel like he admired your persistence, but again you could never figure it out. You sat there, sitting on the kitchen counter, playing with your tea, swirling the spoon in the hot liquid, pondering your thoughts as you slightly swung your legs. Most mornings you found yourself thinking about him, lost in your wild thoughts as you just sat there. You heard the door open and

You'd never believed in love, mainly because it was just some bull shit add on to sex. You'd also never believed you'd be helping Sherlock Holmes in a case, or that he'd let you. Sherlock was a man of few words, extremely educated words at that, and you were a curious little shit that never gave up. You and Sherlock had a complicated relationship at best, and often didn't know how to approach him. Sherlock intrigued you, and you confused him. It was a lose lose situation but you were trying to make the best out of it. Sherlock looked at you, looking back at the dead body in front of him, you just stood watching him, silently waiting your t