When Nobody Believes You

Dark Lore Digest Prompts #52 — The Photograph

Picture by Val Francis Using Night Cafe AI

Sarah did what she always did over breakfast: sat at the table, checking her social media. It wasn’t until she was on her second coffee that she checked her Emails.

When she finished going through them, one more popped into the inbox. Once she’d opened it, she sat staring at the screen, her coffee forgotten.

The email consisted of a single photo and the message — I’ll see you tomorrow.

She stared at it — who wouldn’t? It was so confronting that she couldn’t bring herself to look away. She sat there for what felt like an age — a corpse wasn’t something you see every day, especially when the victim has been wrapped in clingwrap and left to suffocate.

Sarah’s body had suddenly turned cold. It had to be someone’s idea of a sick joke — if it wasn’t, she didn’t dare to think about the possibilities. The woman she was looking at would be the sixth victim of the serial killer who’d turned their quiet, secure little town into a killing ground.

The killer’s usual routine was to send a photo of their latest victim to their next.

It had to be a joke, because anything else was unthinkable.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

Sarah hated it when her husband called her honey — he knew she hated it — but, at the moment, she had more important things to worry about.

“This.” She slid her phone across the table.

He scrutinised it for a long time before returning his attention to his wife’s questioning expression.

“Someone’s sick joke,” he said, pushing the phone back to her.

“And if it’s not?”

Bill shrugged.

Had he always been so dismissive of her?

“I’ll contact the police,” she decided and said out loud.

“They won’t thank you for wasting their time.”

He was right as usual — she’d acquired a history of reporting to the cops that somebody was after her.

Her doctor had diagnosed paranoia. Her husband had been understanding.

“Make another appointment with that psychiatrist you saw last time,” he said.

“I will. I didn’t sleep well last night — I might have a lie-down.”

“Okay, honey. I got you those new tablets the doctor prescribed. Take one so you’ll sleep.”

She watched him grab his car keys and head for the door. He didn’t kiss her.

Sarah had taken two tablets — experience had taught her that one was never enough. She’d slept, and she woke, still drowsy, but through the fog she knew that something was wrong. She’d left the curtains open, she was sure she had — now they were closed, and the room was dark — and her body felt like a leadweight.

She slept again, a restless sleep because the medications were too strong and they always affected her that way.

There were noises — was she asleep or awake — she didn’t know.

She tried moving, but Sarah couldn’t — her body refused to respond.

There it was again — sounds coming from inside the empty house. She tried yelling out, “Who’s there?” but her voice was barely a muted whisper.

Worse still, all she wanted to do, despite her rising panic, was to sleep some more.

Don’t sleep, she kept telling herself — but her eyes didn’t hear her, and they closed, and she slept.

When Sarah finally woke, she couldn’t fully open her eyes, their lids were heavy and uncooperative. At best, she managed to squint.

“Who is it?” Her whisper sounded loud to her in the silence.

“Please!” She felt a waft of air — another body moving nearby.

Someone was in the room with her.

“Bill?

“Stop this — please.”

She needed to cry, but the tears refused to come.

“Please — don’t hurt me.”

Their presence, no longer a secret, the person hummed a tune as they busied themself around her.

Sarah recognised the tune, but where had she heard it?

“What do you want?” Why could she barely whisper — she wanted to scream.

A recognisable sound — if only she remembered what it was — a crinkling noise — familiar. Then she felt her legs lifted, accompanied by the familiar rustling, crinkly sound, and pressure as her feet were trussed tightly together.

Then, a familiar voice spoke.

“It’s not so easy to do this, honey.”

Her legs were lifted higher, and more plastic wrap was tightly wrapped around them.

“I told you I didn’t like you putting on all that weight.”

He was struggling to lift her trunk upright.

“Now, how are we going to do this, honey?” he said to himself.

“Maybe if I — ”

Gripping her nightdress, he pulled her body upright and packed pillows behind her.

“Please, Bill, don’t do this.”

He either didn’t hear her or he didn’t care about anything other than sheathing her in the plastic wrap.

Sarah was helpless.

When everything was covered, apart from her head, he hummed a tune and stood with his phone to photograph her. “Smile for the camera, honey.”

He checked that he was happy with his photo, and then he resumed wrapping the rest of her.

“You always were photographic, my love.

Here is a great story from Holly Emery

[embed]The Last Soul Dark Lore Digest Prompt #51medium.com

Here is a good one I saw from Michael John Scott

[embed]Deadly Reflections Dark Lore Digest Prompt #45medium.com

[embed]It Had To Be You Dark Lore Digest Prompt #50medium.com