The Masked Serial Killer


Le Tueur En Série Masqué

Copyright © 2020 UKAF

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.


Hoising her black satchel over her shoulders, Chanel Esme Fleming took the turn towards the fairly lit alley, glancing back at the few thievish-looking hefty men she saw, after every five steps.

Chanel wondered why Bouchard, the new student, had suggested they met in such a lowly region for a meet-cute.

She gasped, stopping on the track to the supposed place. She slapped her hands on her chest as though she were suffering from an attack.

“Could he be a…” She whispered out to nobody, as the few passersby scowled at her. She ignored all stares as she adjusted her ruffled hair, beneath the thick hoodie she wore, due to the breezy night. She shook her head afterwards.

‘No, he is a good person. I know that’, she thought, treading the path to the rendezvous, only to stop on the track yet again.

‘Just for assurance.’ She took out her Samsung Galaxy S20+ from her bag, clicking open Maps.

“Okay, he said Pizza Fé Marseille”, she read the directions, all leading to where she stood in the middle of a secluded spot. She puffed out air, looking sideways.

‘Here goes nothing.’ She continued walking, this time with cautious yet faster steps. She couldn’t risk being kidnapped.

“Blimey!” She remembered she hadn’t even told her sister, Arianna, or even her parents that she was leaving for a meet-cute and dinner with a new classmate turned laboratory partner.

“Beep beep”, her phone beeped in her hand.

“Speak of the devil and boom! He…” She shook her head, “she appears.” She grinned, swiping the big green button that said ‘accept’.

“Skin and Blister! Holla!” Taking a seat on a bench nearby, she laughed.

“You’re not Spanish, señorita.” Arianna’s tenor voice echoed through the phone.

“Fine, Hallo! You know it’s just a change of vowels ‘a’ and ‘o’. But you have to be so strict with language.” Chanel chatted away, oblivious of the creaky sounds the wooden floor made as people walked by, making her older sister giggle.

“Where are you at? It’s 8 PM and Mum’s being worried sick. Dad’s about calling the mee-maw. But as your bigger sister, I know you’re a good lassie, so you’d definitely be out for a good reason, mind sharing?” Chanel smiled at her last sentence as she played with the hem of her floral print dress.

“Well – *gasp*”, Chanel fell to the floor, her phone flying out of her hand.

“Chanel! Hello?” The phone buzzed with Arianna’s voice before it ended.

A young teenager cloaked in a big black hood, black jeans and black sneakers walked over her head, picking up her ringing phone and pocketing it.

“Ah! That was as easy as taking candy from a little baby”, he said, lifting a lifeless Chanel up, as he walked over to the guardrails.

“Goodbye sweetheart, it was fun to see you actually get deceived by my false meet-cute”, he said, throwing her over the rails down into the pond, her body sinking.

He walked back to the bench she was seated on, placing her phone and satchel neatly on it, before attaching a placard that read “Bouchard was here, again. Guess my next culprit, suckers!” on the bag.

He smirked walking away into the dark, his hoodie covering his sinful act.

GENRE — Crime, Thriller, Mystery, Flash Fiction

Prompt Held By — Creative Writing Ink, accessible at creativewritingink.co.uk

Entry Date — 10/06/2020 10:00 PM – Universal Time Coordinated

Closing Date — 11/30/2020 11:59 PM Europe – Greenwich Mean Time


Writing Prompt Photo Date — Writing Prompt 1
(Creative Writing Ink)

Written by Aisha Olanrewaju.



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