You gazed down at the bus stop and sighed to yourself- it was empty, like everything was now. The shadows remind you of the impending night and against your will your mind brings up those numbing images of last night- who is the butcher now? I had to do it you tell yourself firmly… but somehow you wish Lillian had killed you instead of the other way around. It had ended oddly, the colonel had said his fortune would be divided amongst those in the room left alive after his death (although at the time everyone had assumed that didn’t include you) and the fortune had been granted to you as everyone else was dead. The money made you sick. You shuffle towards the bus stop to wait alone- mind spinning through an endless black void…sickening.

My last entry and final part of the story for a murder mystery Boredom Competition. For the rest of the story see my second image The Butcher (unless you don’t like violent images) and the first, Ghostly Glimpse