I actually finally finished a new chapter!!

I reorganized all my stories and was thinking about making them a bit more connected and posting them in a new thread in chronological order. Does that make sense to do? Idk.

Also, I wrote this on my phone so I hope there aren't too many typos.

---

---

---

---

Class project 1

The breeze blowing out to sea was cool, but the sand on the beach was still quite warm. I could see the group of kids from where I was standing on the boardwalk that connected the small, secluded parking lot to the beach over the mangrove covered dunes.

Our newest class project pits a small group of students as detectives investigating a murder. They will then be presented a list of individuals with descriptions and information and they then should be able to select the killer based on evidence collected at the crime scene. Based on my consistently high grades, I was selected as one of the killers. My first target is 16 year old Angela Krimshaw. She is currently attending a beach party with her other high school aged friends a couple hundred yards down the beach from where I am.

I had studied her photo in order to be able to pick her out from the crowd. I catch a glimpse of her for a moment in the flickering light of the small fire. About a half dozen kids sit around the fire. One has a guitar and I can catch snippets of music and singing coming from the group over the crashing of the waves beyond them. Laughter breaks out randomly. Kids are always coming and going. A small group start playing a game of football that doesn't seem to be following any rules and couples break off to find quiet, secluded spots to... let's just say "talk."

Finally, I catch sight of Angela again. She's walking from the group down toward the water. She is bare footed, wearing skimpy jean shorts and a big sweater. Her wavy blonde hair is tied up in a messy bun with a few random escaped locks dangling around her face and neck. She's a small girl, a flyer on the JV Cheerleading squad.

I move down the rough wooden steps quietly. I'm trying to stay inconspicuous to anyone who may glance my way. The beach is relatively deserted. I sit on the bottom step and pull out my phone.

Luckily, Angela is wandering my way. She is avoiding the cold wet sand so she has moved beck up the beach out of the path of the waves. She continues past not even glancing my way. She has headphones in her ears. When she's gone a few hundred feet further, I get up and climb back up the steps to the raised wooden walkway that run parallel to the beach. She trudges slowly through the loose sand, lost in her own world. Her hands wave vaguely to the music periodically. I follow a little behind her until she stops and stands, staring out at the waves rolling in.

I slip under the railing and pick my way over the sea oats and scrub brush that hold the dunes in place. I crouch for a moment in the shadows, then make my move.

My heart is pounding now, as I near her. I can smell a hint of perfume in the air as I come up right behind her, and I can't help but admire the smooth, pale skin of the nape of her neck as it curves down to her bare shoulder where her sweatshirt has slipped down her arm. I reach out and touch her arm. She jumps and spins on me.

"Oh my god, Kyle, you scared the shit outta me." She's programmed to recognize me as a classmate.

"Sorry," I say rather unapologetically.

"Where did you come from? I didn't see you at the party."

"You know I don't socialize with those guys. They don't even know who I am."

"Adam was there." Angela smiles bashfully, and I can kinda understand the frustration Kyle is supposed to feel. Less than a minute into a conversation between just to two of them and she's already bringing up her crush.

"Did he actually ask you to the dance or something?"

"No. But he said hi."

I don't say anything.

"He's so dreamy, ya know." She continues.

"You know, um, if he doesn't ask. Um, we could go."

Angela just laughs dismissively.

"Really. I mean it." I/Kyle insists.

"Yeah. I know you do. But seriously, it just wouldn't be right, ya know. You're like. A friend, and it's better that way." She turns her back to me.

"Goodnight, Kyle." She called over her shoulder.

That's my cue.

I close the gap between us quickly, but stealthily. I know that if she gets a scream out, I will risk getting caught. We're on a pretty vacant part of the beach, and from here, the kids by the fire are merely shadowy shapes moving against the firelight. The crashing waves would probably drown out any noises she makes anyway, but I don't want to risk it.

I pull out a short piece of cord I have in my pocket.

In one quick motion loop the cord over her head, and cinch it tight around her neck. The change it her body is immediate. She jolts from shock at first and tries to pull away and turn toward me. When she realizes she can't, she twists and rotates her head, trying to break free from the noose. I merely tighten the rope up under her jaw and this is when she realizes she can't breathe. She's trying to scream, but only a little whimper makes it out. Her back arches and she goes up on her tip toes. She leans her body weight against the cord, but it's too strong to snap against her 100 pounds.

She digs her feet into the sand now and grasps at her throat, trying to get her fingers up under the cord digging into the skin, but I hold it tight. I push her down onto her knees and then face forward into the soft sand.

I drop to my knees over her, straddling her tiny waist. I lean down over her, trying to keep a low profile to avoid being noticed by anyone else on the beach. I can feel her fight getting weaker as she struggles to stay conscious. Her hands flail around in the sand searching for anything to grab onto. She puts up quite a struggle, but it doesn't last long. Within s minute she has fallen still. Her fingers twitch in the sand as her body goes through one final convulsion. I can feel her body relax, and a noise comes from the back of her throat as her taut muscles loosen.

I look right and left down the beach. I don't see anyone nearby. The party seems to have quieted down, with the group of kids just huddled around the fire.

I look down at the girl underneath me. Her arms are over her head, and her messy hair has come loose from the bun and is splayed out on the sand. I pull the rope as tight as I can and tie it in a knot at the back of her stretched out neck. I climb off of the corpse and roll it over. Her swollen, purple face is covered in a layer of sand. There's sand caked in her half-closed eyes and in her nose and mouth, clinging to any moisture.

I brush away the sand from around her mouth and kiss her pudgy, blue lips gently. She responds with the an expressionless, unseeing stare.

Standing now, I grab her by the arms and pull her up toward the dunes. I get down next to her and dig a shallow grave in the sand with my hands.

The killer I am assigned is a young classmate of Angela's who murders out of lust. However, as is common, in the moment, he is not actually able to rape her and, instead, merely spends a few minutes touching the body before getting spooked and leaving too hastily.

Before I push the body in into the hole I dug, I pull up her sweater and pull down her bra to expose her breasts. For good measure, I grab her small, firm breasts roughly and squeeze them. I also unbutton her shorts and pull them down a little. I slip my hand down between her legs and find her pussy dripping wet, likely from urine expelled in her final moments of life.

I wipe my hand on the outside of her shorts and proceed to push the body over so that she falls face down into her grave. I replace the sand on top of her, being sure to leave a couple fingertips of one hand protruding just above the surface.


The next morning, the student "investigators" arrive on the beach where the body was discovered to find a taped off crime scene with a partially excavated body and a couple of "witnesses" standing by ready to answer any questions.