Motel kill

This is my starter for a roleplay. The characters are Mark and Luke, serial killers, twin brothers from the tv show The Following

It was a duet, yet it was a battle for domination. The battlefield was the sky, the rivals were the lightnings and the clouds. Darkness and light, contrast flashing in seconds, revealing the word, then hiding it. 

 

Same was the fog like light in the bathroom Mark was standing in; the power going on and off, exposing the room’s secrets, then creating the temporal blindness. Only the bathroom was somewhat quieter than the arena that was the outside world, full of thunder and wind’s howls greedy for win. The sound was partially muffled by the smoke stained curtains that were falling over the windows. It seemed as if they were trapping the souls and breaths of every being that has stepped in the Room 8. However, the rain has managed to find its ways and sneak in at places, dripping down on the bathroom tiled floor, and poorly reflecting the reflection in the surprisingly clean mirror whenever the lighting would strike. The mirror was old, with a crack in the bottom right corner, and it seemed like a crack in time and space, a weird reminder of the things that are real and a showcase of different scenarios and people. The pair of eyes it was now showing held a note of excitement in their widened pupils. Mark stared at them, and they stared right back at him.

He stared until another sight cried for his attention; something he has created and it was something he could be admiring all over again still; the perfect scene. 

 

When he closed his eyes for a moment, the light blinked, too. 

 

It didn’t last long, no. The bite of complete darkness. It was swallowing everything on its way. No bolts interrupting it, no cars crawling their way through the rain tainted roads, for a time of what Mark counted as half a minute. The numbers coming out of his mouth as silent ghosts, floating up to the ceiling to join the spiders and hang in the forgotten webs. Easily, and feeling as forgotten from the world in the mere flash of thoughts, he could clearly imagine his breath floating with the said words, separating from them at the certain point, and landing on the cold mirror glass. It would spread until disappearing fully, and so did the shivers down his spine.It didn't last long until the light sat back on it's throne, until the black lashes revealed the brightness of the room wrapped in whiteness, like the theater curtains would.

The perfect scene was shown. 

 

Or, however, perfect for its creators. Perfect for him, and perfect without a closer look.

Peaceful.

 

It seemed so peaceful it hit and shook Mark's own peace.

The grip on the dirty sink he was holding onto loosened, the blood flowed back to his white knuckles.

 

Blood flowed no more through the veins of the young brunette in the bathtub by the wall. 

Grip was long gone from her neck, but a spirit of it remained on the skin, in the form of starry bruises, contrasting with her pale tones around it. 

 

The water was pure, and so was the woman's soul, yet both were caught in this act. Act of being one in the saddest and final way.The act of death.  She was slowly sinking into the craws of Rigor Mortis.

Sir Mortis made her senseless muscles ache one last time, and she gave in.

Sir Gray took those few steps that slept between the two of them and blessed her shoulder blade with a gentle touch of his fingertips. Warmth met cold. And cold traveled through his index finger up to his mind - his worrying mind. The voice of reason, the screaming voice that'd warn him, it was always lurking around the each and every corner of his thoughts, even though it was blurred and hidden at times.

 

“Luke?” 

 

Leaving the name find the path through the bathroom door, Mark turned to face it hoping his message could be heard. What he didn't want to face was his twin's expression when he approaches him with the proofless worries. 

 

“I think I saw a shadow on that lunatic’s window when we were getting in the room with her.”

The 'lunatic' in his words was the owner of the motel they were staying in. It was someone who one wouldn't hurry to greet and hug, his T-shirt decorated with hot sauce didn't seem too appealing to Mark, neither did his unwelcoming language, but places to stay at weren't something the twins were much picky about.

The middle aged man, perhaps, had more important things to do than paying attention to his guests inviting their own guests, but what was an important thing for Mark - is not getting caught. At any cost.   

 

"Do you think there'll be unwanted questions?" at this point, he wasn't sure whether it was avoiding the questions or wanting to hear them and shut them forever that kept him going, with his gaze glued to the small ray of light that was coming from the bedroom through the almost closed door.

 

Author's Note

Looking forward for feedback.

Reviews

[Mayank]

I think it was a very good piece, the story is bone chilling and what I liked most is the way you have narrated the story, I can see the strong plot here. Few issues with sentences were observed, even in my short stories I end up making those mistakes. Over all, good work.

[Merchant of Minds]

I have lost the number of times I have read this piece and every time I find it equally "unputdownable."

[Michelle Coleman]

Sixteen, huh? 😊 you have quite the natural talent for story telling. You have an arist's touch when painting a scene. I would love to see what more you can do with this if you ever decided to add to your story. I enjoyed this "peek through window" into the twins actions.

One thing to watch for is switching back and forth from past tense to present tense unless it is clearly stated and understood. I used to do this all the time until it was finally pointed out to me last year. A very common mistake, apparently. 😜

Only a couple of misplaced "the" words. The second paragraph, for example, "stepped in the Room 8."

"No bolts interrupted it, no cars crawling their way through the rain tainted roads, for a time of what Mark counted as half a minute." there are a few sentences like this. I would suggest reworking them. Either rearranging the words, separating pieces into their owns entrances, or shortening them.

[burnhouse]

First of all, I want you to know how much joy this review of yours has brought into my day! It always feels great when you get to hear/read something way better than 'I (don't)like it'.

Yes, a September Virgo. :') Dear lord, thank you for thinking so, as for the artist's touch part, I guess it has to do something with art being my another escape - next to words. I'm not sure if I'm going to develop this any further, since this piece's chilling in my documents since last August, but I might consider it.

Thank you for telling me that! I tend to either write everything at once, or a few sentences a day or so, when it's the first case, I'm pretty much too carried away. But should watch out better when rereading, yes.

'A', 'the', '/' = my immortal struggle when it comes to English. :D Also a fun guessing game, haha. Will fix it.

Again me with getting carried away + love for commas. The sentence doesn't make as much sense now as it did months ago, yes.

A big thank you for your time, though! And smart and useful review. You're golden.

[Michelle Coleman]

I completely spaced on where you love! So in that case, your grammar is coming along quite wonderfully! 😄

I feel happy knowing how much my review made your day. I enjoy those kinds of reviews myself.

When concept for the book I am writing began five years ago. I did some writing here and there, but lost all of it twice. 😜 guess I was going in the wrong direction. So you never know what you will come back to or how you will later utilize your early writings.

[Sami Khalil]

Welcome back. A good read on these serial killers who happen to be twins...Bravo.....

[burnhouse]

Double thank you.

[Sami Khalil]

Triple welcomes...:)....................