By Alina Arnold
Warning: murder, guns blood references, smoking references
One dark, dark night a murder happened in Hollow Woods. The dreadful wind was as if it were waking up the dead souls to walk and scare people, around the borders of the ominous woods. Every touch of the dead floor seemed to stir up the dry moss. The howl of this unconscious wind seemed like a sound in hell. Hollow Woods seemed too close to hell. There was even a tree that looked like a demon in the haunted moonlight. Nothing looked alive there. There seemed to be no happiness in these woods. Everything looked malicious and murdered. This is where Johnathan Parker was killed.
In Boston, lived a detective: David Moore. His friend in England, Sergeant Christopher Walker, telephoned him and told him about the murder. In a week, Mr. Moore was in London. When he came into Sergeant Walker’s cabinet he asked if there is a house or a small town near Hollow Woods.
“I’m afraid, I don’t know,” replied Walker. “They still don’t have the maps for Hollow Woods because it wasn’t touched until a week ago!”
“So, I guess, we have to go to this place and find out.”
Just then, someone burst into the cabinet. It was a young man, about the age of 20 that had his brown curly hair in a mess, his shirt wasn’t properly fastened and his tie was too loose and everywhere.
“Good morning, gentlemen. Is this Sergeant Christopher Walker and Mr. David Moore?”
“Yes, this is,” replied the sergeant. “Please so go outside and make yourself look decent.”
When he returned, he said: “I have something to show you, that has something to do with the murder of Jonathan Parker. My name is Edgar Smith and I live in Blow-Wood town. It’s really near to Hollow Woods. If you want I have a cab outside, waiting for me.”
This wasn’t the best news for both of them. What could it be?
“So, Edgar,” said David Moore, when they got into the cab. “What else is there about the murder about Jonathan Parker?”
“Well, there is this legend in which all the people of the surrounding towns believe in. It was about a King Ghost, who awakens the evil souls every night at twelve.”
“And what does that have to do with the murder?” questioned Sergeant Walker.
“Some say that on the night of the murder, they saw a figure, a really scary figure in a nightgown, walking around Blow-wood town.” Edgar told them more about how he looked like, as he was one of the people who saw the mysterious figure. To Edgar, the figure was one of the most evil looking and the most horrifying person in the world. “What was Jonathan Parker like?” asked the detective.
“Um, well, you see, he wasn’t such a talkative person and was always ‘correct’ (I supposes that’s why people hated him). He lived most of his life in Germany and got married to a beautiful English woman Liza (pronounced ‘Layza’) Cole. Liza soon died of horror. I guess that’s why he isn’t so talkative.” “When you said ‘…died of horror’, what did you mean?”
“Liza had a poor heart. I guess she died of seeing something that scared her to death.”
When they arrived, the sergeant and the detective couldn’t help, but shudder, looking at the gloomy woods. It was already dark, so Edgar said that they could stay for the night at his house. None of the two guests could sleep that night. The thought of the figure had really freaked them out.
When the sun shone into the room, all of them woke up. Edgar ran into the dining room.
“I wanted to show you show you something,” he took out a dagger. “I think this is the weapon that killed Mr. Parker.”
The sergeant took the weapon. He looked at it, turned it, check the weight and etc. He didn’t see anything strange, so he carelessly handed it over to the detective.
“Where was this found?” he asked.
“A few feet away from the body,” answered Edgar. “Interesting,” said Mr. Moore, looking again at the weapon.
“Look closely, Christopher. You see, there isn’t any sign of blood on the weapon?”
“Oh yes! How silly of me not to notice that!” cried the sergeant.
“Come on, Mr. Moore and Sergeant Walker! You have to meet the other people of Blow-Wood town!” said Edgar, putting on his coat. The first person they met was Lucy Grey, the girlfriend of Edgar. She seemed quite sweet: with her long chestnut hair and her twinkling blue eyes. She seemed quite innocent for a murderer.
“I don’t really know a lot about what happened that night,” she said, having tears in her eyes. “I only remember that I saw this ghastly figure walking in a dirty nightgown. After some time (around an hour after I saw the figure), I heard a scream and two figures running away. It was really strange…”
“Two figures? Interesting…” whispered the detective, writing down what she had seen.
“Mr. Moore, does my Lucy or I have something to do with the murder?” asked Edgar, standing really close to Lucy, as if protecting her.
“Um, I’m afraid, Miss Grey, that we are still not sure, whether you have been involved in this mysterious crime,” said the detective. Lucy burst into tears. “Mr. Moore! Have mercy! I wouldn’t have even tried killing people, even if I really hate someone! Mr. Parker was a nice man, he was kind to me and Edgar, but could have been a bit pitiful, sometimes…” cried Lucy.
The next person was Mr. John Wilson, a collector. He was around the age of 40 and was rather fond of music and collecting new and old models of guns, daggers, knives, etc.
“Good day,” said Edgar. “This is Mr. David Moore and Sergeant Christopher Walker.”
“Please to meet you,” muttered the collector in a suspicious tone. “What do you want?”
“Mr. Wilson, we just wanted to ask you several questions about the death of Mr. Parker,” declared the sergeant. Mr Wilson grew pale.
“Do you know this dagger?”
“Oh my!” he cried and fainted.
“I think we found whom we’re looking for,” said Sergeant Walker.
“Not yet!” replied David Moore. “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch! I think Mr. Wilson only recognized that weapon and is hiding something important about the murder. But, if he was the murderer, how can you explain the walking figure and the dagger without blood?”
The next person we met that day was Mr. Edward Smith, the brother of Edgar. He had also brown hair and was like a twin brother even though Edward was one year older than him. He was much neater than his younger brother. When they came in, he was very pale and scared of something. After his brother introduced the detective and the sergeant, a woman with short red hair and eager green eyes rushed into the room. Edward got even paler.
“Good day, gentlemen,” said the woman with a fright. “What are you doing here? What are you trying to do with Edward?!”
“We were just questioning this young man about Mr. Parker and his death,” declared Sergeant Walker. Her flaming cheeks grew extremely pale.
The detective quietly asked Edgar who was this young woman and what is she doing here. He answered that she was Vivian Wilde, the fiancée of his brother. Mr. Moore wrote something in his notebook. “So, excuse me Mr. Smith, what did you want to say?” asked the sergeant.
“Well, there was one thing that absolutely freaked me out. It was the figure, roaming that night of the murder. That’s the only thing I could remember because when I opened the window and wanted to shout, it just took something heavy and hit me with it on the head. That’s all I can tell you.”
“Mr. Smith, can you please tell us something about how Mr. Parker was to you?” said the detective unexpectedly.
“Well, there isn’t anything special about this man. Only that he was fond of my little Vivian and her fiery hair. He was a very closed person. You couldn’t tell if he was satisfied or angry. That was the scariest part of him.”
They then questioned Miss Vivian Wilde, who was sitting in the other room waiting, very agitated. She wasn’t very talkative, although Edward said that she loved to talk, but after the death of Mr. Parker, she wouldn’t speak eagerly.
“I don’t know anything about the murder. Not a thing!” she roared.
“Is it even ok bursting into people’s apartments asking about that stupid murder?!”
“Excuse me, Miss Wilde,” blurted David Moore. “What do you have in your handbag?”
A silver, dirty muzzle (tip of a gun) looked out of her handbag. She hid it immediately.
“It’s a present. From Mr. Wilson,” she roared and ran away.
“Hm…” said the detective and wrote something in his notebook.
On the next day, Mr. Moore wanted to talk to Mr Wilson and Miss Wilde, so he rushed to the old fashioned house of the collector. After that, he rushed to the house of Edgar, took another notebook, and went to the apartment house. After 2 hours, Miss Wilde rushed out of the building, crying.
“What happened?” asked the sergeant. “Is she alright?”
“Yes,” answered the detective. “Please call everybody of Blow-Wood town to come at 3 to Edgar’s house.”
The time came. The time of the truth to climb out of the detective’s mouth.
“So, I’m here to tell you all what happened that night,” said the detective. “It all started when Miss Wilde came into the town. Mr Edward Smith was such a dear person and gave her a room at the apartment. When she met all of the people of the town, she went into the house of Mr. Wilson. She made it so perfect there (because it was all in a mess) and when she was cleaning up, Mr. Wilson told her about the legend. For a thank you, he gave her a gun of his collection.
After those romantic days with Edward, she then noticed another man, a better one, as it seemed to her. It was Mr. Parker. On one of the nights when she left her apartment, she quickly got into Mr. Parker’s house and overflowed him with loving words. Mr. Parker was absolutely indifferent to those words and when she finally uttered that she loved him, he turned away, as if it wasn’t for him.
So then, the revenge plan began to form in her mind. All those evil thoughts rushed in her mind. And one night she wanted to make it happen. It was the last day, which Mr. Parker wanted to stay because he wanted to go to America to find a job. Miss Wilde remembered the legend that her friend, Mr. Wilson, told her.
She went outside and walked several times round the town with her nightgown and cloak. When she saw Edward, she rushed up to him and hit him with her gun. She then went to the house of Mr. Parker and ordered him to go to the woods. She then killed him there.
Mr. Wilson did hear that gunshot and went to see who the murderer was. He took a random dagger and went to the woods. When he got there, he was too late, and saw the body of Mr. Parker lying in the moonlight. In fear, he dropped the dagger and ran to his house.”
“Oh my goodness, Vivian!” cried Edward. “So all this time you were cheating on me?! You were hanging out with this Parker guy and…”
“I didn’t mean to,” whispered Miss Wilde.
“You didn’t mean to…” Miss Grey said angrily.
“I’m sorry, Edward, but Miss Vivian Wilde is under arrest,” declared Sergeant Walker. “I don’t care anymore,” he whispered. “She lied to me the whole way…”
Edgar and Lucy went to calm the young man down.
“I guess, David,” said the sergeant. “You can go back to your beloved America!” And this was the case of the ghostly figure.
Monkeybear Productions 
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