Episode 8 - Teaser
Are you excited...?
From Episode 8, written by random_flores
Anne Campbell was a light sleeper. It was the reason why she bargained for the bedroom on the first floor, won it away from both Diana and Christy with both pleas and the bribe of doing the extra chore of the dishes twice a week.
It wasn't that Anne was antisocial. It was just that she really liked to sleep. Tucked away in the bedroom just beyond the stairs, she could just close her eyes and not worry about jolting awake at any little sound: exercise tapes or the Killers or gabbing on cell phones or even the click-clacking of a keyboard.
An entire floor underneath her two roommates, she didn't hear a thing until Moxie, her German Shepherd mutt mix, began to growl.
Eyes blinking open, torn from sleep, Anne blindly began to reach in the dark for the fur of her dog, trying to scruff her into quiet.
"Moxie," she whispered. "Shh-"
But then there was a bang - loud enough to shake the room, cause the ceiling to vibrate above her.
Anne jumped, heart spiking in her chest, glancing up as Moxie's low, warning growl became a rough bark.
And then she heard the screams.
Upstairs. Painful, desperate, terrified screams that drove deep into her heart and suddenly paralyzed her.
Her eyes wildly searched the ceiling, panting for breath and gripping to her dog's collar.
And then the screaming just stopped.
Fumbling for the side of bed, Anne's trembling fingers finally found the cool metal of her bat, used on good days for softball.
Hands gripped tight around the handle, so afraid she feared she might faint, Anne pressed her bare feet on the floor and edged toward the doorway.
It could have been a prank. Diana and Christy always loved to mess with her, and if it were a prank, she would fucking kill them -
After she made sure they were okay.
She got to the door, opened it, and then the thunderous pounding of boots on the stairs came so fast she could only watch as a dark figure burst down the landing and headed straight for the open window.
He never saw her.
Heart racing, Anne dropped the bat, racing toward the stairs and sprinting up.
Swinging into Diana's room, she skidded into wetness, sticking to her bare feet.
Fumbling for the light, she glanced down, and discovered blood, seeping around her toes, a trail leading to the mutilated, distorted form of Diana.
Her hand went to her mouth, the nausea causing her to wretch. "Oh, God," she managed. "CHRISTY! Call 911!" Christy!"
The big finale of the Women's Murder Club Virtual Seasons.
Be ready.
From Episode 8, written by random_flores
Anne Campbell was a light sleeper. It was the reason why she bargained for the bedroom on the first floor, won it away from both Diana and Christy with both pleas and the bribe of doing the extra chore of the dishes twice a week.
It wasn't that Anne was antisocial. It was just that she really liked to sleep. Tucked away in the bedroom just beyond the stairs, she could just close her eyes and not worry about jolting awake at any little sound: exercise tapes or the Killers or gabbing on cell phones or even the click-clacking of a keyboard.
An entire floor underneath her two roommates, she didn't hear a thing until Moxie, her German Shepherd mutt mix, began to growl.
Eyes blinking open, torn from sleep, Anne blindly began to reach in the dark for the fur of her dog, trying to scruff her into quiet.
"Moxie," she whispered. "Shh-"
But then there was a bang - loud enough to shake the room, cause the ceiling to vibrate above her.
Anne jumped, heart spiking in her chest, glancing up as Moxie's low, warning growl became a rough bark.
And then she heard the screams.
Upstairs. Painful, desperate, terrified screams that drove deep into her heart and suddenly paralyzed her.
Her eyes wildly searched the ceiling, panting for breath and gripping to her dog's collar.
And then the screaming just stopped.
Fumbling for the side of bed, Anne's trembling fingers finally found the cool metal of her bat, used on good days for softball.
Hands gripped tight around the handle, so afraid she feared she might faint, Anne pressed her bare feet on the floor and edged toward the doorway.
It could have been a prank. Diana and Christy always loved to mess with her, and if it were a prank, she would fucking kill them -
After she made sure they were okay.
She got to the door, opened it, and then the thunderous pounding of boots on the stairs came so fast she could only watch as a dark figure burst down the landing and headed straight for the open window.
He never saw her.
Heart racing, Anne dropped the bat, racing toward the stairs and sprinting up.
Swinging into Diana's room, she skidded into wetness, sticking to her bare feet.
Fumbling for the light, she glanced down, and discovered blood, seeping around her toes, a trail leading to the mutilated, distorted form of Diana.
Her hand went to her mouth, the nausea causing her to wretch. "Oh, God," she managed. "CHRISTY! Call 911!" Christy!"
Click to viewThe big finale of the Women's Murder Club Virtual Seasons.
Be ready.