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| - Local man found murdered in his Florida home on Wednesday: 02-23-2011. Police believe he had been killed over the weekend, due to the, and was quoted “The rotten, vile, and vomit inducing stench of decomposition.” The man, named Johnathan Morris, was found strung up in his bedroom. The details of his death have yet to be released by officials, but it is safe to say it was grizzly, as the coroner on scene had to exit the home after just two-minutes of being inside. Evidence that has been shared with the public has the whole case in question. No prints were found despite the amount of carnage done. Claw-like scratch marks marred the walls, bed, and body. But they were confirmed to be Human and not Animal made. A few strands of long hair were found in the victim's room. But DNA was ruled out, as there was no redeemable DNA to use. According to forensic specialist Dr. Henry Reed: “The reason we couldn't find any useable DNA, despite the root still being present on some of the samples, is something that still has me puzzled. Even with the hair's root, no genetic material was recovered. No blood, or anything. Samples in that preserved of a condition should and are able to yield usable material. But the samples from that case... It was as if they were the hair's from off of a corpse.” Neighbors recall small clues, but that only adds to the mystery of this bizarre case. One neighbor witnessed a long haired and ghostly pale woman in the victim's bedroom window, but dismissed it in the belief that it was the man's girlfriend or mistress. (The girlfriend was away on business at the time.) Another neighbor heard, what was described as “Demonic yelling. Like that in horror movies.” and was going to call the police, til the sounds abruptly stopped a few moments after it started. Demon noises? Unknown woman? Living corpse? Beastly mutilation? A lesser person would be screaming “It's a Zombie” right about now. But the case is still deemed open and in the hands of the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime. — Lynsie was never a troubled child. Born in Miami Florida. She was a kind, sweet, and gentle soul. An all-around good girl. Her family life was the same as most normal kids... dysfunctional. The middle of three kids, fate threw a curve ball her way in the form of her appearance. Long multi-tinted brown hair that reached passed her butt, a skin tone so pale that she'd blend in with porcelain dolls, deep set emotionless green eyes that reminded one of death, and an unknown dark aura that seemed to resonate off of her. Such a look made other children and some adults, fearful of her. Making her a freak among her peers. She had no friends. No one paid her any attention. Even her own family would forget her name, and call her Lynn for short. It was like she was invisible to the world. And thus, in darkness. But it never bothered her all too much. She used her imagination to make friends and take comfort from the loneliness. And being able to give them different voices made it all the more better. This made her content and unusually calm. Nothing could faze her. Not even when her family lost their home... twice. Her teen years were pretty much the same as childhood. No real friends. No attention paid to her. Teachers misspelled her name. Same old - same old. But then... A light shown in the darkness. As an adult she made a new friend. A real friend. Someone who could remember her name. Someone who paid her attention. Someone who wanted to get to know her. His name was Robert, and he showed her what life could be like with someone else. After a year, they moved in together. Started to make a new life with each other. Things looked really well for them. Then fate came back with a new gift... tragedy. While on a relaxing drive to the beach one Monday afternoon, there was an accident. A reckless driver came speeding out of nowhere and collided with them from the side. The driver's side. The impact was awful. Robert was driving at the speed limit of 45mph, while the careless asshole was doing just over 80mph. It was epic! Robert was killed upon impact. The bad driver smashed head long into a nearby street sign, killing him instantly. But Lynsie... She was stuck inside as the truck rolled for a bit before her seat-belt snapped and launched her out the windshield. She bounced across the road like a skipping stone on water. She finally came to a stop some 60-feet from the crash site. Her body now a crumpled and mangled mess. By the time paramedics arrived, Lynise was on the brink of losing consciousness. A large pool of blood surrounded her seemingly lifeless form. They were surprised she was still awake. But in honesty, the pain of it all wouldn't let her black out. She couldn't speak as they carefully loaded her into the ambulance. She couldn't move when they stuck needle after needle into her. She couldn't stop watching them til the darkness claimed her at last. Doctor's found it a miracle she survived such a crash. Especially after she lost more then enough blood to kill a normal person. Bones were broken, but healed quickly. Muscles ripped, yet mended. She was defying the odds, her will unbreakable. And all while in a coma no less. But this was far from something new to her, in fact, Lynsie had came close to dying six times now. As an infant, she nearly got her head shot by a falling bullet some idiot fired for the 4th of July. At about two-years old, her brother didn't close the front door all the way and she crawled out, her small body tumbled as she went down cement steps to the concrete patio. At age seven, a metal baseball bat accidentally hit her forehead while her brother and his friend were playing, leaving a subtle scar. Age eleven, she falls at least fifteen feet out of a tree with her spine landing on an exposed root, inducing a mild concussion. At random through the years, she'd nearly been hit by cars that never saw her while she was walking, or while riding her bike. And now at age twenty-four, this shit happens. Each time she was almost ended, and each time she came back. Better, stronger, more resilient. But with this extreme near death came a cost. The massive blood loss turned her ghostly pale skin to a deathly tone, almost a grey in hue, and slightly transparent. Her veins could easily be seen from a foot away. Her green eyes seemed cloudy now, still with distinct color, yet dull. She looked like a living corpse. It would be a week before she regained consciousness. An officer later informed her of what happened in the accident. To the officer's confusion, she was eerily calm about the whole thing. All the while her emotionless eyes remained cold and unnerving. Even after hearing about what happened to Robert. Something wasn't right. Doctor's assumed it was merely her reaction to the trauma and medication. No one could take so much terrible news and still be okay. And in fact, she wasn't okay. Far from it. She was used to the darkness, she dealt with it her whole life. But then there was a light and she saw a new world, a world of acceptance and companionship. And now that world was gone. Gone in the blink of an eye. The light... was gone. Something about that, it got to her. She was alone. All alone. There was no light. Only darkness... darkness… darkness... DARKNESS! The next morning, a nurse discovered Lynsie's room was empty. None of the night staff knew a thing. Not security. Not even the surveillance cameras, and some were motion sensitive. It was like she vanished. Disappearing into the night without a trace. As if, she was never really there. For a time, Lynsie took shelter in the home she had come to claim in her world of light. It was all she could do. Cleaned up and mobile once more, she saw what she had became. But didn't care. Looks meant very little to her. Donned now in a black shirt, faded grey camouflage pants, and a black hooded jacket to keep out of the sun. She let her nails grow out, sharpening them to fine points, enough so that she'd cut her skin unintentionally. Why she did this? She figured it was an impulse. A need really. She kept herself going by shoplifting. It was rather easy for her. No one ever noticed her. And that was her life for a while. Wake up, eat, steal, eat, steal again, eat one last time, and then sleep. A sad and pathetic life. But that all changed one fateful Saturday evening. While out and enjoying some fast-food in a local park, a man crossed her path and bumped into her. Knocking the burger from her hands in his pace. Calmly she spoke out. The man kept walking. Like her soft voice was nothing but wind. It annoyed her. So she caught up with him and tried to get his attention. Still nothing. A light tap to his shoulder did the trick and got him to spin around angrily. “What?!” She was a statue as he snapped. “You spoiled my lunch.” “Huh?” “Can I please have a dollar to replace it?” A simple request. But one this ignorant ass of a man saw no point to. “Bitch, I ain't giving you jack shit.” "Listen up, you little freak. Go back into the cave you crawled out of and talk to someone who has time to waste on you.” Hearing that word... freak... something in her head began to slip from her grip. She tilted her head to the side with cold inquisition. “What the hell are you on?” He shoves her to the ground and walks away. Her hood uncovering in her fall. Revealing her dead face for all to see. “Get a job, freak. I'm sure the circus is always hiring.” And with that, he departed. But not before that something in her head gave way. Nothing mattered anymore. This world. This wasn't the world she was used to. Not the world she was meant for. The world of darkness prepared her for the worst. The world of light showed her what life could be like. But this. This was a world of grey, where nothing made sense. And there was only one way to make things right. She had to force herself into one of those worlds. But there was no more light. She knew what to do. She embraced the darkness. That night, somewhere between 10:30pm and 11:00pm, she was in the bushes of the man's home. She had followed him from the park and was laying in wait. The moment was approaching. Nothing would stop her. She took a deep breath and did one last look around, making sure the coast was clear before she made her way into the man's home through a basement window. Carefully, she made her way upstairs. Creeping along like a stealthy ninja and checking for if the man was in bed. He was. She entered his bedroom and stood beside the bed. Standing like a statue and just watching him. Her jacket tied around her waist so to exposed when he woke. She wanted him to see her face. She felt in control and hadn't even done anything yet. Such a feeling of power... this was going to be an interesting night. Slowly the man began to stir. The feel of eyes when he knew he was alone was bringing him back from slumber. When he rolled over, his eyes adjusted to the darkness, and that's when he saw her. She didn't move. She didn't speak. All she did was stare. Her eyes wide and void of feeling. Never blinking. Just visually boring into him with her piercing gaze. It was like she was waiting for something. A reason to act. “What are yo...” He was cut short when she suddenly ponced on him. Caught off guard, she easily pinned him down. Her clawed hands clasping tight around his throat, her nails cutting into his neck's skin as he struggled, hardening them with his blood. Despite her frail appearance, Lynsie was surprisingly strong. This was a damaged girl in her mid-twenty's and 5'8, choking the life out of a man in his late-forty's and at least 6'4. It was unreal. And as adrenalin pumped through her pulsing veins, her grip got stronger and stronger. All the while she kept complete eye contact with him. Hardly ever blinking so she could continue to see him die. And as she watched the life slowly fade from his panicked eyes, she growled a single sentence repeatedly with a murderous glare that held more emotion than she was ever know to have expressed. She did this until a sickening snap reached her ears and the man's body went limp. He was dead. She had taken a life. And with her own bare hands. She killed him. But she didn't feel bad about it. On the contrary. Killing the thoughtless bastard felt...intoxicating. A new feeling enveloped her slowly., making her amused. First came a weak chuckle. Then a building snicker. And finally a laugh. A fully and true hearty laugh that was as chilling as the body beneath her was becoming. She opened his wallet and only took the bills. No point in taking credit-cards, those can be traced. She also scooped up whatever change she could find. No letting it go to waste. But something got her attention. She remembered her first meeting with this man, and snarled at the memory. Her return to the darkness was almost complete. She still just needed to unlock it. For that to happen, there needed to be blood. And lots of it. A little over an hour later, she was done, and marveled at her work. She had torn this guy up bad. Having gutted the man, she spilled his innards over the bed. Using his intestines, she hung him over the bed just above the headboard. His eyelids were ripped off, the word “FREAK” was craved into his forehead, and is head positioned to face the wall in front of him. And on said wall was a message made in the man's own blood. She smiled at what was before her. It felt all too good to be doing things like this. But she didn't care. Not any more. Not when she was this taken in by the darkness. She left out the back door and took off into the night. Melding with the shadows and fading from any form of sight. No trace remained. As if invisible to all. It was like she never existed... but did.
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