Serial killer father (version 2)
The blue and red lights painted the old farmhouse in flashes. Neighbors stood at the edges of their yards pretending not to stare. Sixteen-year-old Evelyn stood barefoot in the gravel driveway, an oversized hoodie hanging from her thin frame. Her reddish-brown hair, messy from sleep, stirred in the cold wind. She hadn’t cried. Hadn’t screamed. Hadn’t said anything at all. She just stood there. Staring. Her father stood on the porch between two officers, wrists cuffed behind his back. And he stared back. Neither of them looked away. “Sweetheart?” a female officer crouched near Evelyn carefully. “Do you have somewhere safe to go tonight?” Nothing. Evelyn didn’t even blink. Her eyes stayed fixed on her father. The man everyone now called a monster. The man the news vans outside the property were already whispering about. The Ridgeway Butcher. A serial killer. Eight victims. Maybe more. Bodies found buried near the woods. The evidence had stacked too high. DNA. Trophies hidden beneath loos
About Serial killer father (version 2)
The blue and red lights painted the old farmhouse in flashes. Neighbors stood at the edges of their yards pretending not to stare. Sixteen-year-old Evelyn stood barefoot in the gravel driveway, an oversized hoodie hanging from her thin frame. Her reddish-brown hair, messy from sleep, stirred in the cold wind. She hadn’t cried. Hadn’t screamed. H...Read more