The Sundown Butcher 

The occasional barking of faraway dogs broke the silence of the night, the tension arises in the wind and the palpitations in our hearts skip a beat. 

Violent streaks of deep, dark red blood across the wooden picket fence, but nothing else to be left behind. Panic surged through the neighborhood, as these families must protect and lock down. For all we thought the neighborhood was safe, we live in a close knit community, everyone looks out for each other.

The Sundown Butcher only showed under the cover of darkness, he believed the tenebrosity produced power. Darkness lived within his soul, he felt no remorse, and lack of empathy stuck with him like gum under a school desk. 

The quiet neighborhood flooded with sirens, harsh hammering on each door, confusion and panic jams everyone's minds, the cops are questioning us, we’re clueless and frightened. We must find a way to protect ourselves and our community. 

As the cops spend countless hours of the day piecing together the evidence of the unresolved murder, they make their last lap around the neighborhood before ending their investigation for the night. 

Detective Skye Lee was making her way back to her vehicle when a tall, black figure scampered towards her, swinging a long-black bladed butcher knife toward her direction. She disregarded and abandoned her belongings, when the Sundown Butcher made her cold blood run, but not faster than him. It wasn’t long until the notorious Butcher had poached another bounty. The blood rushed out of her neck like a raging river, and dripped from the knife like the tears falling down her face as she ran. He would then drag her into the woods where he had picked out her gleaming red, smooth hair strands. He ran the strands by his cupid’s bow, and when he found himself upon satisfaction, he then smoldered her body.

As he watched the body ash, he took out his journal where he kept all the people he had murdered, how, when, where, what the victims looked like and he often kept it in the pocket of his leather coat. The journal expressed his obsession for long red hair women, it reminded him of his first wife that he had killed in a motorcycle accident.