His Crooked Smile

Being aware that the town was fast asleep on the wee hours of this late-night he tried the backdoors. Though it took some time, with the bunch of his handpicked keys, the doors barged open with a crackling bang.

Her eyes followed him with fear. She stretched and quivered sighting his shoulders twitch. His masculine figure was outlined by the shadows.

He gave back his half-crooked smile with a steady stare. She meowed in fright and it was her last ever sound. The meow came in whispers. Blood spattered on the creamy white walls as her body and convulsed and it lay still. 

He sat there on the floor admiring and obsessed with his artwork. Amidst the silence, except for the clock ticking he made his way through the house searching. Cereals, tins of milk, wines, processed meat, and bread he pushed about.

There was a poster that hung on the wall opposite the room he was in. He saw his photo on it. It read," John Carter aged 35, with brown eyes and highly masculine is a serial killer wanted by the police. Please contact if you come across this guy." He gave his crooked smile again...