Sang Sorensen was sick of finding dead bodies. She found the first one when she had gone to the shopping at the grocery store. She saw the man was sprawled across the floor, in a small alley way shoved under a dumpster. She had screamed and ran to the nearest pay phone to call the police, she got a chill that evening as if someone, or something was watching her.

And that's how it started. She began finding them wherever she went. Each time she'd call the police and each time she felt a chill in the evening. She wanted to move, but she had just secured a job and a ratty apartment, unless someone payed her to leave, she wasn't leaving.

With every body came a name, and a family. She learnt of people and their dreams. She learnt of Cassanda Dee and her dreams of Harvard. Of Micheal Ellish and his fight with drugs and how he was trying to change. But then there were others. Ronald Aquino, a man who had raped several young children, Sasha O'Connell who had tortured innocent people in her basement. It seemed that in death it did not matter who you were, or what your dreams were, or who you could become.

By the twelfth body, she began to feel a little ridiculous, at this point the police knew her by name, and she began to be mysteriously followed, two at a time, no more than a day per pair. After the sixth day in a row of being feeling followed, she felt restless, but as she went into the station one day to give an eye witness account she recognised one of the police officers as one of her stalkers.

She couldn't blame them, after all there was no incriminating evidence on any of the bodies, they all died the same, a swift slash to the neck. The only common factor in these murders was her. But it kept her on her toes. The looks they threw at her made her think, and she began to doubt.

She saw the dead in the shadows now. Their gaunt faces silently screaming. Slowly she was going crazy over these deaths.

In the day she worked, and in the night she researched. She almost worked herself to death. But their faces and dreams haunted her. She became paranoid.

Shortly after the fourteenth body there was a knock on the door to her apartment. She opened the door wearily two men stood on the other side.

"I'm Owen Blackbourne of 'Blackbourne Detective Agency,' and this," he gestured to his curly haired companion, "is my colleague Dr. Green." In his hand he held a search warrant. Feeling a little frightened she looked around paranoid, she looked at Dr. Green winked at her, and for some bizarre reason it made her feel better. She blushed. They stepped inside.

"Doctor?" She asked curiously, he seemed young, early twenties. Dr. Green grinned as Mr. Blackbourne continued to examine her ratty apartment.

"I got my doctrine at nineteen!" He exclaimed proudly. She studied him curiously unable to decipher whether or not he was kidding.

Mr. Blackbourne was tall with broad shoulders, his charcoal suit was tailored to his figure, his cologne wafted through her small space. Dr. Green was his complete opposite. He wore cropped utility khakis and a crumpled lilac polo. They  made her madness go away. Maybe it was the human contact or maybe it was the tea and biscuits. She had forgotten to eat after all.

Feeling a little stupid as they nosied themselves around her space, she made a cup of tea as they made polite conversation. Eventually they sat down at her old crappy dinning table. Dr. Green smiled kindly as they explained over a cup of tea what was going on. Their company had been hired to be a private investigator, for these mysterious murders. She felt surprisingly normal.

She recounted her experiences for them as they wrote down diligently in their small notepads. They exchanged looks when she mentioned the feeling of being watched. She nervously asked if they had any leads, her fingers twitching. The two men exchanged looks once again, before Mr. Blackbourne carefully chose his words.

"We have, some leads, things that are being looked into. You'll be safe Miss Sorenson that we can assure you."

And then they were gone. Leaving only their dirty teacups, their cologne and a scrap of paper. She stared at the dirty teacups for hours trying to work out if it was her mind playing tricks on her it didn't feel real. She stood there for hours until it was dark.

That evening there was a chill. She stood in her busted up apartment, and in every corner, every shadow, every flicker in her peripheral vision, she saw their faces. They started whispering, things she couldn't understand, but she was terrified as she stood frozen in terror. So when her world went dark she welcomed it, welcoming the silence. The last thing she saw was a mask hovering over her. After all Death doesn't care who you are or what you could become. It only takes.

____________________

Henlo! This is an odd update but we had an english assignment and i decided i would just write a GB fanfic and hand that in. So this is that. Not my best but its different. I feel as if i had more time it could be better but i mean here ya go frens!

:P
-Anna