Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26475800-20151017211423

Alex had been traveling from San Diego California to New York City, it was a spur of the moment decision, and he left with little more than a suitcase and his car. Each state he drove through he decided to get a souvenir to remember this move. Sadly, his has yet to get one in Colorado, and because it was getting late, he decided to stop for the night. Each of the souvenirs he has already collected were similar, a couple of fingers, a few toes, tonight he wanted to get a hand.

As was his custom, Alex parked his car a few blocks away at a closed store. Due to the nature of his nocturnal escapades he wants as much privacy as possible, which is why he always stops in rural areas. If he was in a densely populated area the likely hood of him being caught from his, at least in his own mind, art. And for Alex that wouldn’t be good at all.

As Alex walked down the darkened streets he thought about the house he was going to break into, if he would find anything that has any real value. Another thought that popped into his head was if there would be a family in the house or just one person. When a family occupied the house he would take a piece from each of them. His mind has gone silent as he decided on a house, it wasn’t the biggest house on the block, nor the smallest. It was a house that didn’t stand out at all from the others on the street.

As he walked up the yard to the side of the house Alex took the penlight from his pocket. On these outings Alex traveled lightly, gloves, penlight and knife. There was nothing more that he needed, and if he had more on him it would slow him down, maybe even enough so he would be caught.

The backdoor was pried open rather easily, it only took a minute or two. Alex has gotten rather fast at picking locks, after all he was a professional locksmith. A knife was all he really needed to break into a house, and knowing what the police looked for when judging if a break-in was due to the door being forced open or left unlocked. It was rare that he would make such senseless mistakes, and tonight he knew there wouldn’t be any problems with getting into the house, even before getting to the house.

He prowled through the house, taking a minute or two in each room to look at what was in the room. While walking through the house he would keep his light off more often than not, the owners may not see the light, but someone may drive by at the right time to see the flashlight.

This house was unlike so many others, very little furniture, but so many pictures. The wall was covered with them, each one a different person. Alex didn’t see too many of them, because he left his light off more often than not. The hall seemed to go on forever, the moon light reflecting softly on the glass of the frames.

As the murderer walked into the kitchen he became unnerved, so much so that he was about to turn back. He only stood there with his penlight shifting back and forth from one end of the room to the other. That was when he heard the clicking, and a split second later he felt 50,000 volts on the side of his neck. Every muscle in his body tightened and convulsed as the unseen man continued to press the blue arc into his neck. When the Taser was finally turned off Alex fell to the floor, his arms and legs still twitching, and he was unable to move them willingly. The shadow of a man was standing over his body, he wasn’t able to see what he looked like.

“Wrong house, asshole,” the man said.

Alex wasn’t unnerved because he knew the man was there, he didn’t. He was unnerved by what he saw in the small cone of light coming from his penlight. At the table there was five corpses, all in different stages of decomposition. A woman was tied to a chair, blood running down the side of her head, duct tape over her mouth. She looked to be almost dead, but as he looked at her, her eyes widened, just before he received that painful jolt. 