“I stared down at my hands and saw the blood coat them, how warm and real something felt when it wasn’t just ink and stains. This was life and I was holding it in my hands. I drew my eyes back up and beneath the flickering streetlight and the throng of drunken cattle, I saw nothing else but the dead girl. Somebody out there had taken her life, her heart, and there I was with her warm, sticky blood. Feeling the most alive I’d felt in years. I had to find him. I just had to.” HeartDarkBloodHorrorDepressionMurderScaryRevengeKnivesHomelessDisturbedGoreHorror FictionShort StoriesDepressedSerial KillerKillerHorror WriterKnifeGrittyHorror Short StoryDark SceneHorror Short Book:Down by The Mausoleum Source: Down by The Mausoleum