OnYourMark
オンヨマク いつも
Anyone up for a short story? I should mention now that Salt Lake is a suburb of Honolulu.
Background information, if you'd like it:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salt_Lake,_Hawaii
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&saddr=Ala+Napunani+St&daddr=21.359579,-157.900196&hl=en&geocode=FbDrRQEdE6KW9g%3B&mra=dme&mrcr=0&mrsp=1&sz=18&sll=21.359784,-157.900169&sspn=0.002313,0.003455&ie=UTF8&t=h&z=18
The moon was full, the air was cool, and the winds were piercing, as they always are in Salt Lake. That night, no one saw what was coming. No one could have known that the mystery of the decade would play itself out in the quiet town.
At the corner of Ala Napunani Street and Moanalua Road, the large hill goes unnoticed by those who drive by. Only those who slowly walk by can see the secrets of the hill. Only those who walk by can see the signs of life on the hill. It’s no secret that people from Hawaii are fond of their folklore, but on the hill lives something that most Salt Lake residents would rather not think about.
On that cool night of October 1st, 2003, a young man in his daily exercise walked past the hill. His shoelaces had untied themselves, so he stopped to fix them. As he finished tying his left shoelace, the sweat of his forehead madly dripped onto his shirt. He recalled how chilling the breeze was and how quiet the night was. What interrupted the stillness of the night was a shriek so eerie and twisted that those who live as far away as Foster Village are still haunted in their dreams. At the terrible sound, the young man jumped to his feet, but his assailant was fast.
The man’s bloody body was found the next morning. It was determined that he was beaten to death with a sledgehammer. The killer left a message for the world on the victim’s cool and colorless corpse. The message, written with the blood of the victim, reads as follows:
Those who examined the case were convinced that the killer was deranged and recklessly dangerous. They thought he was perhaps demon possessed. Actually, the killer was an ordinary teenager, like you and me.
At the Salt Lake Shopping Center, the killer watched and waited. He looked for his next victim. When night came, the blood rushed through his body, but he waited a while for the same stillness, the stillness that makes our ears ring with terror.
He spied out his victim, a woman in fashionable clothing. She listened to her iPod; the song was “Forever”, by Chris Brown. She walked to the ATM and entered her information. Her iPod’s battery died in the middle of the song, so she put it in her purse. The killer readied himself as silence loomed over the area. The woman became noticeably nervous, and she froze with fear. At that moment, she was beaten with a sledgehammer. The killer was unmerciful, and his eyes burned with the cold killing spirit of Jack the Ripper.
At each strike of his hammer, he said to himself, “I’m dreaming.” He searched through his being for the door to ultimate consciousness, and that night he found it for the first time. He entered into a world painted with black and white. He saw a white man and a white woman, both clothed in black. He saw himself, as white as them, and with black clothes. The killer stole their clothes and put them on himself, so that he became increasingly black. This he did to other white figures who walked by, until he became as black as the night. Soon, he vanished onto the black canvass of his mind.
Here, he regained consciousness. He found himself, with sledgehammer in hand, on his lonely hill at the corner of Ala Napunani Street and Moanalua Road. We cannot know what became of him, but since the unfortunate murders, the people of Salt Lake kept a reminder for themselves and also warned others with this saying:
What did you think? (Constructive comments, please, if you don't mind.)
=) Thanks
Background information, if you'd like it:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salt_Lake,_Hawaii
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&saddr=Ala+Napunani+St&daddr=21.359579,-157.900196&hl=en&geocode=FbDrRQEdE6KW9g%3B&mra=dme&mrcr=0&mrsp=1&sz=18&sll=21.359784,-157.900169&sspn=0.002313,0.003455&ie=UTF8&t=h&z=18
-------- The Salt Lake Chronic --------
The moon was full, the air was cool, and the winds were piercing, as they always are in Salt Lake. That night, no one saw what was coming. No one could have known that the mystery of the decade would play itself out in the quiet town.
At the corner of Ala Napunani Street and Moanalua Road, the large hill goes unnoticed by those who drive by. Only those who slowly walk by can see the secrets of the hill. Only those who walk by can see the signs of life on the hill. It’s no secret that people from Hawaii are fond of their folklore, but on the hill lives something that most Salt Lake residents would rather not think about.
On that cool night of October 1st, 2003, a young man in his daily exercise walked past the hill. His shoelaces had untied themselves, so he stopped to fix them. As he finished tying his left shoelace, the sweat of his forehead madly dripped onto his shirt. He recalled how chilling the breeze was and how quiet the night was. What interrupted the stillness of the night was a shriek so eerie and twisted that those who live as far away as Foster Village are still haunted in their dreams. At the terrible sound, the young man jumped to his feet, but his assailant was fast.
The man’s bloody body was found the next morning. It was determined that he was beaten to death with a sledgehammer. The killer left a message for the world on the victim’s cool and colorless corpse. The message, written with the blood of the victim, reads as follows:
It’s just a dream, a state of mind
Where morality trails far behind.
Where morality trails far behind.
Those who examined the case were convinced that the killer was deranged and recklessly dangerous. They thought he was perhaps demon possessed. Actually, the killer was an ordinary teenager, like you and me.
At the Salt Lake Shopping Center, the killer watched and waited. He looked for his next victim. When night came, the blood rushed through his body, but he waited a while for the same stillness, the stillness that makes our ears ring with terror.
He spied out his victim, a woman in fashionable clothing. She listened to her iPod; the song was “Forever”, by Chris Brown. She walked to the ATM and entered her information. Her iPod’s battery died in the middle of the song, so she put it in her purse. The killer readied himself as silence loomed over the area. The woman became noticeably nervous, and she froze with fear. At that moment, she was beaten with a sledgehammer. The killer was unmerciful, and his eyes burned with the cold killing spirit of Jack the Ripper.
At each strike of his hammer, he said to himself, “I’m dreaming.” He searched through his being for the door to ultimate consciousness, and that night he found it for the first time. He entered into a world painted with black and white. He saw a white man and a white woman, both clothed in black. He saw himself, as white as them, and with black clothes. The killer stole their clothes and put them on himself, so that he became increasingly black. This he did to other white figures who walked by, until he became as black as the night. Soon, he vanished onto the black canvass of his mind.
Here, he regained consciousness. He found himself, with sledgehammer in hand, on his lonely hill at the corner of Ala Napunani Street and Moanalua Road. We cannot know what became of him, but since the unfortunate murders, the people of Salt Lake kept a reminder for themselves and also warned others with this saying:
So while passing through Salt Lake, keep in mind
That a killer might be creeping not too far behind.
-------- End --------
That a killer might be creeping not too far behind.
-------- End --------
What did you think? (Constructive comments, please, if you don't mind.)
=) Thanks
