First fanfic ever, so please be kind. Constructive criticism is welcome, rudeness is not. I don't think rudeness is a word.


I remember seeing him, the glorious young violinist. I didn't know what to think about him, he seemed so lost as he pulled the bow

against the violin's strings. It was almost as if it was an unconscious effort, something as natural to him as breathing. It was just so

beautiful... Maybe that was my downfall, falling in love with his music, seeing the beauty in his features when he played. My parents

always told me not to talk to strangers, I guess I should have listened. Maybe then I wouldn't be lying in a bathtub, with all my hair
chopped off. Yeah, probably.

I remember running into him on the street, recognizing his flawless features. Going up to him, asking him his name. "Webb. Webb Porter." He answered, smiling awkwardly and looking around him, as if making sure no one was watching. "And you are...?" I smiled wide and answered, in my most arrogant voice, "Karime Vazquez, at your service." I'd always been so good at feigning confidence. I was dying of fright on the inside. It was then that he made one of the oddest comments I'd ever heard "I like your hair." I remember quirking my eyebrow, letting my head fall to the side. Even for one who wasn't used to getting compliments, I knew what a unique one that was. "Thanks... so I, uh, saw you playing the other day. You were really good! You know, you looked so lost in your music and, um..." He was staring at me, I recall how it was making my awkward come out. I think he knew how nervous he was making me, though I can't be sure, he just smiled at me and asked "Would you like to listen to it again?"

Was that the door? Finally, someone will find my body and I won't have to lie in a bathtub forever! Let me rejoice! Oh, it's my annoying neighbor, great. Now she's screaming, even better!

You better be running out of here to call the police because I do not plan on laying here forever, no I do not, it is cold in here.

I was lying on my couch, reading a book when I heard it. Notes, streaming in through my door, lulling my senses. Such beautiful music could only come from one person. How Webb ever found me will always be a mystery to me, seeing as the dead can't really do much

investigating. I recall opening the door, and seeing him standing there, as lost as I'd ever seen him. He seemed to remember where he was, for he stopped playing and smiled his awkward smile at me again. Webb never did stop looking around. I raised an eyebrow "Hi". "Hello." I don't think I'll ever not find him charming, in that moment however, he looked to me like a small angel, innocent and kind. I laugh at those thoughts now. "Why are you..?" I inquired, my words fading "You said you liked my music." I

blinked, "Yes, yes I did." Before he could respond, I said what were probably the stupidest words that have ever escaped my mouth "Would you like to come in?"

There are police everywhere, looking through my things, taking pictures of my dead body. I wish they would just take me out of the tub already, it is freezing in here. An old man has walked in, he seems tired, sad even. He's accompanied by a pretty blonde girl, and a bigger guy in need of a haircut. "Karime Vazquez, age 18, bound, gagged, and drowned in the bathtub, not unlike the others." There were others? Wow, Webb and here I thought we had something special. The pretty girl's leaning over me now, studying my dead body. Is it bad for a dead person to hit on a living one? She's reaching over, touching my once long hair. It took me so long to grow it out too... "Why does he keep taking their

hair?" I hear her murmur. Well you see- "We'll find out soon enough, we have a lead on his position." Thanks for interrupting me gramps, that was kind of you. "She really put up a fight." Said the big boy, brushing his hand over a hole in my wall, roughly the size of a human head. "I'd say." Answered the blondie, carefully lifting my left hand, inspecting the blood under my fingernails.

I was tied to my bed, I'd lost track of how long. Tears hadn't stopped falling during that entire time. Webb had grabbed me from behind, and bound me soon after I let him into my home. I was such an idiot. I was knocked out, and awoke with my mouth covered, bound in ropes, and dressed in a nighty. Webb was cutting all of my hair off, as close to the root as he could. I screamed, but he calmly stated "No one can hear you, you might as well stop. Don't worry, your hair is just long enough." I wondered what it was long enough for, though it didn't take long to find out. He was using my long

hair to string the bows for his violin. I could hear him play from the living room, whenever my sobs allowed. Even for someone sentenced to death, I couldn't help but listen to and appreciate the

beautiful sound created by his bow. I wondered, would I hear such beautiful music again? I didn't try to fight, didn't try to escape. What was the point? He'd catch me, he'd kill me. What was the point? I just laid there and cried. Then, something changed, a new noise was introduced. The sound of running water in my bathtub. The psychopath was going to drown me. Here I was hoping it would be something quick, too. He sauntered into my room, my tears had grown stronger. "You had just enough" He smiled "I've been practicing. Did you like it?" I screamed as loud as I could. He frowned "I'm not ready yet though. Not good enough, not yet." This was the moment I'd been waiting for, my impending death

glaring me in the eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Webb quickly began untying the ropes that bound me to the bed. I didn't try to fight him, I was going to die anyway. Webb seemed surprised that I didn't try to resist, and began to drag me to the bathroom. That's when something in me changed. A voice within me shouted "KARIME, FIGHT. FIGHT HIM. STAY ALIVE AND FIGHT." I obeyed. I wiggled

out of his grasp; I'd always been a slippery person. He tried to reach for me, when I grabbed his ear and slammed his head into the wall, creating a large hole. I ran as fast as I could, only a couple more feet and I would arrive at my door, I would get away. Suddenly, I felt a large weight on me, my face hitting the floor. Webb had tackled me. He slung me over his shoulder, and carried me to the bathroom, my kicks and punches not helping me at all. Webb slammed me into the bathtub, already overflowing with

water. The temperature hit me like slap to the face, knocking the small amount of wind left in me out. I reached forward and swiped my hands across his face. Webb didn't seem to mind, easily overpowering me, and holding me under water. There was no air left in my lungs, aching because of the oxygen they

couldn't acquire. My body was beginning to give up, nothing left to keep my red blood cells going. Webb's face hovered over me, the glass like water, acting as a screen between me and him. I felt like

Alice peering through the looking glass, peeking into a world of which I would soon no longer belong. Webb's face no longer resembled that of a sweet innocent angel, but of a demon, intent on

destruction. My lungs, my head, everything hurt as it struggled to survive. I tried to scream again, but nothing came out, water leaking further into my body. The last thing I heard was a soft murmur of "I'm sorry".