The Police Warns… The Serial Killer is Still at Large.
Anyone who notices suspicious activity or an individual is urged to report it immediately.
For months now, we had all been on high alert due to the serial killer haunting our city. My father was a police officer, and from what he had told me, they had no solid leads on the killer. No one knew who he was, where he came from, or who his next target would be. What was known, however, was that he mostly hunted at night—autopsies on the bodies revealed that the murders typically took place between 3 and 4 AM—and his gruesome method of killing.
The killer used three nails—two driven into the victims’ eyes and one into their forehead with a hammer-like tool. Some victims, still alive or on the verge of death, were doused in gasoline and set on fire. Thanks to my father, I have always been interested in firearms since childhood and have learned every detail about handling a weapon. I knew how to protect myself in an emergency. Yet, due to my mother’s paranoia, we made sure to check and double-check all the doors and windows before going to bed every night.
A few days later, my father told me that they had arrested a suspect who had confessed to the murders and claimed to be the killer. The national media quickly picked up the story, and the entire city turned into a place of celebration. However, my father said that in cases like these, there were always people who falsely confessed to being serial killers just to gain media attention. They needed to confirm whether this was truly the murderer. Still, the suspect matched the known characteristics of the killer.
That day, I took a shower and went shopping at the mall with my friends for Halloween costumes. You know, something like a Harley Quinn outfit. We planned to get a few clothes in advance and transform them into perfect costumes by Halloween. After finishing our shopping and saying goodbye to my friends, I was on my way home when I bumped into someone who seemed more than ready for Halloween. The mask he wore resembled the one from The Purge—maybe it was an exact replica. Even so, I couldn’t help but think that just wearing a mask wasn’t much of a bold costume choice for Halloween.
Apologizing for the collision, I continued on my way, but a strange feeling crept over me—the sensation that he was watching me from behind for a little too long.
Days passed, yet there was still no definitive answer about the serial killer. The national media demanded that the suspect be executed, but the police had not confirmed whether he was truly the killer. Nevertheless, the coverage seemed to have eased the tension across the country. I, on the other hand, tried to put it all behind me and looked forward to the Halloween party my friends and I were planning to attend.
As I lay down, daydreaming about the party that evening, a notification sound from my computer pulled me out of my thoughts. I had received two emails from an unknown sender.
“You will be purged of your sins…”
“The previous fraud…”
What the hell was this?! I dismissed it as a tasteless joke meant to scare people and didn’t give it much thought. Instead, I went back to bed, deciding to take a short nap while waiting for the evening to arrive.
When night fell, I put on my costume and went outside to meet my friends. As I looked around, watching kids roam the streets shouting, “Trick or treat!” I saw him—the guy I had bumped into the other day. His neon mask looked even more striking at night. He was holding something in his hand, but I couldn’t make out what it was due to the glare from a nearby car’s headlights. Assuming it was just part of his costume, I ignored him and walked a few blocks with my friends toward the party.
The party was fantastic. I was meeting new people, laughing, and having a great time. After about half an hour, the alcohol had taken effect, and I felt the need to use the restroom. I went upstairs and entered the bathroom, heading toward the toilet—when I noticed a hand dangling over the edge of the bathtub. At first, I thought it was just a Halloween decoration set up by the party host to scare people, but my curiosity got the better of me.
What I saw was horrifying.
The person in the tub had nails driven into their eyes and forehead. Blood seeped into the water, turning it a deep red.
I barely had time to let out a scream before a hand covered my mouth. A sudden blow to my head sent me crashing to the floor. As I groggily tried to lift my head, I saw him—the guy in the neon mask. Calmly, he approached me. I tried to scream again, to call for help, but he pulled something from his pocket and covered my mouth. He bound my hands and feet to keep me from struggling.
He did everything so coldly, so methodically.
I tried to convince myself that this was all just some elaborate Halloween prank, but then he gently stroked my hair, leaned in close, and whispered in my ear:
“Let me purge you of your sins.”
Then he pulled out three nails.
At that moment, the emails flashed in my mind.
“You will be purged of your sins…”
“The previous fraud…”
Everything clicked into place—my father’s stories, the news reports.
The person they had arrested wasn’t the real killer.
The true serial killer was standing right in front of me.
And this time, I was the target.
As he hammered the nails into my eyes, I screamed in agony, but the gag muffled my cries. When he reached for the third nail, I knew I was about to die. But suddenly, nothing happened.
Instead, I felt familiar arms wrapping around me, lifting me swiftly into a car. Someone rushed me to the hospital.
Now, as I lie in my hospital bed, I dictate these words to my friend, who is helping me share my story. When I didn’t return downstairs for a long time, my friend came looking for me—first seeing the neon-masked figure escaping through a window, then finding me unconscious. Thanks to them, I survived.
The police are now searching for the true killer.
They call him The Neon Mask.
Stay vigilant.
I know he’ll come back for me one day.
And when he’s done with me…
He’ll come for you next.
Credit: DeathWithDark
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