“12 people have mysteriously gone missing in this town within the last year” The news reporter on the television announced. I stirred the little dinner I had left that I was too full to stomach. I turned to look at my sister. She sat unusually tense and seemed worried. My sister and I were in our mid-twenties. We had recently moved out of our parents house and settled on being roommates in a new home that we rented.

“...We suspect a serial killer of sorts is on the loose-” The reporter continued

“Damn.. 12 people. Wonder what happened.” I said, trying to make conversation. My sister and I used to get along great, but recently something had been off with her. She acted secretive, constantly seemed paranoid that someone was watching her, and lashing out over the smallest of things. I watched her already tensed up body tense up even more after what I had spoken. She shakily took a bite of her food.

“How was work today?” she asked suddenly, clearly trying to change the subject.

I let out a sigh.

“It was fine.” I replied just before getting up with my bowl and starting toward the kitchen.

What is wrong with her?

I placed my bowl in the sink but froze when my eyes met a dark red stained knife sitting in the corner. It appeared just as blood would. My heart skipped a beat.

“Chelsey, what is this in the sink?” I yelled to my sister. I instantly heard her drop her fork and began to hastily walk towards the kitchen.

“What are you talking about?” she questioned while standing in front of me, her face worried and her hands restless.

I grabbed the knife and held it up to her. Her eyes became impossibly wide.

“I- It’s- I had a-” she stammered anxiously. I was incredibly suspicious at this point. My heart began to race as a thought crept into my mind.

Could she be the.. Killer?

I began to shake my head.

No, that's impossible. She would never.

*“*I made a salad. It had… raspberry dressing, I guess it was bad or something.” she continued. I stood there frozen; I wasn't sure of how to reply. I could sense she was questioning whether or not I was suspicious of her.

“How about I do the dishes for ya?” she offered just after a nervous smile formed across her face. I dropped the knife and walked out of the kitchen without saying anything. I started up the stairs and entered my room. The same question repeated in my mind.

What is wrong with her?

The knife looked nothing like raspberry dressing to me. There was no mistaking it, there was blood on that knife. I plopped down in my old decaying office chair and continued to think. My stomach churned everytime the thought of my sister being the killer returned. My back shot up straight when I heard my sister walk away from the kitchen and then into her room. I heard her bedroom door close and lock behind her. When we had first moved in, she picked the bedroom that was downstairs. I knew I had to do something to ease my suspicions about her.

A little investigating won't hurt.

I got up from my desk and exited my room. Halfway down the hallway my sister's door came into view. Just looking at it caused a wave of nausea to wash over me. I took a deep breath and continued on. I got on the floor and looked through the bottom crack of the door. It was covered with a towel.

What the hell?

I put my ear to the door, but instantly stood up when I heard her footsteps start toward the door. She unlocked the door and opened it. Her eyes looked wild.

“What are you doing?” she questioned

“I am going downstairs!” I replied awkwardly and then walked into my room.

“Weirdo!” I heard her shout across the hall just after I entered my bedroom and closed my door. I stopped in front of my door and froze.

What is she doing there?

I heard her door close and lock once again.

It felt wrong to invade her privacy like this, but I made the choice to be selfish for my own ease of mind. I continued to stand there, my mind racing, trying to come up with an idea of how I could see into her bedroom. Just as I was about to give up, an idea struck my mind and my face lit up. Her bedroom had a window that looked out into our backyard.

if i use the ladder…

I took a sharp inhale and started down the stairs.

I can use the ladder to reach her window… I’ll just have to be quiet out there..

I opened the sliding glass door that led into the backyard. I looked up at her window and felt relief when I saw that her curtains had not been shut. I turned to my left and gazed at the old rusty ladder in the far end of the yard. I quickly and quietly made it to the ladder, taking a path that would ensure I would not be visible if she were to look out her window. I touched the ladder and let out an audible scream when a spider began to crawl on my hand. I smacked the spider off and then cupped my hand with my mouth. My stomach dropped.

Did she hear that?

I turned to face the window and stared at it, frozen, waiting to see if she would look out of it. I unfroze and took a silent breath of relief when enough time had passed and she hadn't looked out. I turned to look at the ladder. I examined it, looking for any more spiders or insects that made their home there. I picked up the ladder and started towards her window, making sure to take the same path I took to reach the ladder. I reached her window and I carefully placed the ladder in front of it. I stealthily extended the ladder to reach her window. It was a few feet below the window, but high up enough that I would be able to see into it. I placed one foot on the ladder but gasped and froze when I heard a horrifying THWACK come from her room.

Now i knew for certain i had to look through. I placed my other foot on the ladder. I slowly and cautiously continued up the ladder, until i was one step away from seeing in. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as an attempt to prepare myself for whatever i might see. I opened my eyes and took the final step. I was absolutely petrified and horrified at the scene presented to me. My sister and I locked eyes. Her eyes were frightened with a tinge of malice. She was holding an ax halfway to the ground as if she were just about to finish swinging it once more. Below the ax was a decaying corpse with its head chopped off. The moment felt surreal. I could have never imagined to see something like this in my lifetime. I badly wanted to stop staring, but I couldn't. My sister suddenly ran and exited her room. Shortly after, I heard footsteps began to hurriedly dash down the stairs.

She's coming for me.

She came into view. She was running down the stairs, the ax still in hand. She was skipping steps at a time. I felt genuinely terrified of my sister. My survival instincts kicked in and I swiftly climbed down the ladder. I ran to the sliding glass door and pressed my entire body against it in an attempt to stop her from reaching me; I couldn't lock it from the outside. I jumped away from the door just after she swung her ax at it. I turned around and saw she had partially cracked the strong glass. I examined the ax. It was covered with fresh blood. A ferocious and murderous smile formed across her face. I stood there, guard higher than ever.

Think, god damn it! I have to do something!

My sister began to slowly open the door, the smile remaining on her face, as if she were trying to taunt me. I examined the area around me, desperately searching for anything that could aid me in this situation. My face lit up when my eye caught the umbrella on our patio. My sister had noticed my glance in its direction. Instead of continuing to slowly open the door with a menacing smile, her face turned worried and she forcefully pushed the door the rest of the way open. I bolted to the umbrella and swiftly forced the large pole out of its stand. I held the umbrella upside down; the actual umbrella would soften the impact between her and the pole. I groaned and powerfully swung at the ax, causing it to be forcefully removed from her grip. The worry in her face grew larger. I sensed she was about to attempt to get ahold of the ax again, so I swung at her. She instinctively put her arms in front of her in defense. She screamed in pain as the large pole impacted her arms. I swung again, and again, until she was curled up on the ground, screaming and crying in pain. I decided to take my chances and make a run for it. I dropped my weapon and jumped over her body and into the house. I ran up the stairs, leaping as I skipped steps at a time.

I reached my door and began to scream in fear and frustration when the handle wouldn't turn.

She locked me out.

“Fuck!” I yelled out, just before hot tears began to stream down my face. A shiver ran down my spine when I heard irregular footsteps and quiet wimps. In my hurried panic to escape, I had completely forgotten to lock her outside. I turned to my left, and then to my right, trying to find a way to escape. I swore under my breath when my sister came into view. She was badly beaten and limping, but she held the ax. She started to walk up the stairs slowly, but as quickly as she could considering her body's damage.

I took a deep breath.

“Chelsey… Y-You don't have to do this… PLEASE!” I pleaded.

My plea invoked no reaction from her. She continued to struggle up the stairs.

“Chelsey please just let me go! I won't tell anyone I promise.” I pleaded once more in a sob.

“It's… too late..” she replied through pained breaths.

I realized that my pleads were no use. I had to find a way to escape this. I turned to the stairs and an idea struck me. I needed to jump. There was no time to consider the pros and cons of the decision. I jumped to the first step of the stairs and vaulted over the railing. My stomach dropped once my hands left the railing. To my dismay I landed in an awkward position on the first floor. My legs went limp and painful. I screeched in pain, but also fear as I realized what this meant for me. I was now incredibly vulnerable. I was laying on the floor, legs hurt. I took a look at my sister. She was now smiling and slowly coming down the stairs, ax in hand. I tried to crawl away, but even my hurt sister was faster than my crawl. My breath stopped as my legs began to get dragged across the floor by my sister. She stopped and turned me over to face her. I only remember feeling confused when I saw her switch her grip to the ax head. She then began to swing the wooden side of the ax repeatedly at my head. Eventually stars began to engulf my vision until I was unconscious.

I awoke to a severe pounding sensation that started in the center of my head and then quickly spread throughout its entirety as I gained back full consciousness. I sat up and was horrified to see where I was. I sat in a cold and dark basement, dozens of decaying body parts surrounded me. I turned over and vomited when the stench of death hit me. I got up. MY legs still hurt badly, but I was able to walk with a limp. I squinted and saw a staircase a small length away. I clenched my teeth and hissed each step I took. I had made it to the stairs, and I then switched to a crawling maneuver to reach the top. The top was a concrete square with light shining through the cracks. I pressed up on it, but was stopped by something heavy on top of it. I lifted it up once more, now enough to barely see the outside. I recognized it as my sister's room, and my stomach sank.

How is this even possible?

My brain quickly connected the dots when I remembered the real estate agents had mentioned the house contained a basement when we were first viewing it. By the time we moved in, I had completely forgotten about it and my sister never mentioned it. It would explain her bizarre insistence on having that specific bedroom. She knew it was located there and had planned this murder spree all along, i realized.

I pushed on the ceiling once more, this time with more force. I groaned in frustration when I was only able to open it slightly more than before. I swore under my breath and gagged as the smell of death entered my nostrils again. I took off my shirt and tied it around my face like a bandana. The putrid smell still lingered, but not nearly as bad as before. I realized that the only way I could escape was if I somehow managed to push the ceiling with enough force that it would cause the obstruction to fall backwards.

I took a deep breath and placed my hands on the ceiling. I counted to 3 in my head, and began to push upwards with every bit of strength that was left within me. I continued to push with great force until I heard the obstruction fall and the pressure on the ceiling was gone and it flung open. I let go of the ceiling and took deep breaths from exhaustion. When I finally caught my breath, I pushed the ceiling open once more, this time with ease. I painfully made my way up the last step and into my sister's room. I quickly shut the entrance to the basement with my foot. I felt a mix of relief and horror. I was free, but there was of course the reality that my beloved sister was a serial killer. The door to my sister's bedroom was wide open. I quickly walked out of the room, still limping from the pain of my legs. I walked to my room and looked out of the window, which looked out into the driveway. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw that my sister's car was not there. I had not the slightest clue of where my phone was, and I knew I couldn't afford to look for it.

Instead, I went down the stairs and dialed 911 using our house phone. I explained the story to the operator in short and ragged breaths. I stayed on the phone, waiting for help to arrive. I became paralyzed with fear each time I heard a car drive down the street, praying that it was not my sister. Minutes later I was escorted to the hospital via ambulance. I was diagnosed with a fractured leg, but I had already expected such. I am now staying at my mothers house. She has not taken the news of her daughter's actions lightly. She has spent the last few days lying in bed crying. I have been following the news and my sister has been missing since the day I caught her. I have been writing this on my mothers laptop for the past few days. I am utterly traumatized by what I have witnessed and gone through, and I really needed to tell someone.