*Midnight Murder*

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
Picture this:YOU die,come back as someone else,and discover the killer is the last person you rhought it would be...

Submitted: May 18, 2011

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Submitted: May 18, 2011



Midnight Murder

I never thought that I, of all people, would die at thirteen years old. But, that’s how it happened. The voice came to me without a warning, one dark, cold and eerie night. Papa told me he’d be out hunting, because our food source was running awfully low. This worried me greatly because people had been disappearing lately. Word was that dark magic had taken over someone and forced them to kill anyone who laid a foot outside. Papa braided my hair before leaving, telling me not to follow or worry about him. But, me being my brown haired, hazel-eyed, Juliet self that was extremely curious…things just didn’t go quite as Papa had planned. The second Mama was a sleep, and Papa had left, I bolted up to his office to read his journals.

That’s when it spoke to me.

Go down to the willow tree at the stroke of midnight; don’t tell Mama, it’s for the best.

The voice sent chills down my back and sounded like a harsh wind blowing through a graveyard at night. I immediately pulled on my best boots and jacket, locked my door, grabbed my bow and arrow, and jumped out the window without a second thought. The birds cackled at me from their nests, but with one shoot of my arrow, they grew silent forever more. The clearing of the willow was coming up…I readied my weapon and began to advance. The bark was twisted into what looked like an evil grin. My knees started to buckle, but I shook it away and kept moving forwards. A dark silhouette appeared from under the tree, its black robes dragged across the moistened grass.



My vision began to blur, and an excruciating pain filled my head.

Knock, knock, and knock

It felt as if someone was banging on my head from the inside with a large hammer.

Knock, knock, knock


The world looked red, and the figure was barely visible. With one last knock, my breathing stopped, and I could feel myself dying and my body giving way.


“ William! What are you doing out here at this time of night?! Let’s get back to the house now!” A woman with a harsh voice and a pudgy face slapped me hard. I stood up, my head rushing with pain…and feeling sick to my stomach. Something had happened, I could just sense it. I started to panic and rushed my hand through my short, black hair.


Something really weird was going on. A memory of a brown haired girl with hazel eyes rushed before my eyes. Then it hit me. I was that girl…someone with black robes and dark hair had killed me.

“William! Hurry up! We have to get back to the house this instant!”

I backed away slowly “I am not William!” I shouted before trying to run away. The woman grabbed my arm quickly and started pulling me. I kicked her in the shin, when her grip only tightened; I resorted to biting her arm. She yowled in pain and pulled away; I took this as a chance to sprint away and scramble up a tree. I sat there, just watching her wander around, screaming, “WILLIAM!” my breath was finally coming back.

Then it returned.

I watched in horror as something with black robes attacked the women as she screamed bloody murder. Then everything jumbled up in my head finally pieced together.

I knew the killer, and I knew how to kill it. I dreaded the idea, but I’d read enough things in Papa’s journals to understand reincarnation: life after death. I would have to kill myself, my new self would kill the murderer. I searched my new clothes and eventually found a sharp knife in my boot.

Tears rolled down my cheeks…and memories of Papa teaching me how to hunt, and Mama kissing my cheek filled my head. I reluctantly raised the knife and stabbed it right at my heart.

But no pain came. My entire body began glowing a brilliant emerald, before returning to my original, Juliet self. I breathed a shaky breath of relief, while hearing a blood curdling scream from below. I heard the killer’s body make a sickening thud on the ground. I slowly and steadily climbed down the tree to discover the killer.

But, when I lifted the hood, the dead eyes looking back at me weren’t of strangers, or even a killer.
They were the eyes of my beloved Papa.

© Copyright 2018 cumbithegreat. All rights reserved.

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