Saskia's Frozen Tradition

Located on his right hand was a deep cut, it shows signs of being badly injured with a “defence wound”. Researchers have constructed the likelihood that one or two days before the murder, there was a fight. It was believed that Otzi took part in the fight and grabbed a sharp object like a knife as a defence mechanism. The researchers have stated that the wound shows signs of earlier healing. Therefore the fatal blow must have been from previous days of the murder, if that were the case. From a behavioral perspective taking aim from Otzi from a far distance suggests that the killer might have learnt from the mistake of hand to hand combat fight and made the decision to kill and shoot from a distance. This suggests that he was a targeted victim of a crime, but it is not

She leaned back on the sofa and waited. A gust of wind sped over her head. A second later, a red hole appeared on Rizwan’s forehead. His eyes widened, and he reached forward as he fell back onto his guard behind him. The pair landed on the floor. The only sound she heard was her own breathing as she waited for them to move. Blood trickled from them creating a puddle on the ground.

Her lips formed strange and unusual sounds, her eyes closed softly and her cheeks paled. From her side belt she withdrew a small knife, a dagger. With a quick movement she cut her left hand with the dagger. As the drops of blood hit the cold marble floor the knife also clattered to the ground. The girl remained speaking her foreign tongue and let her life's blood run down her outstretched arm.

It has been at least an hour and a half since the attack. She does not remember anything that happened. She slowly get up and reaches for the doorknob. A sudden shot of pain went up her arm. Blood then started dripping from her hand. She had been cut. A knife stabbed her in her hand. “Ow.”, She then blacks out.

“Are you miss L/N?” The stranger at the entrance asked. You nodded fearfully, even though you knew what was coming next. “I’m sorry, but your brother didn’t make it. He was fatally shot.”

She had taken care of him, suffered through his fits of rage, accepted his blind addiction to loving himself, and his inability to sympathize with there needs. She was alone, isolated, and her pain was denied by his constant need for the world to revolve around his compulsions. This contradictory life weighed heavily on her, until one day she cold not live with it any longer. He came home on one of his low days. He was upset by his business, rattling on about how his business associates had wronged him. As he was ranting, something in her snapped, she grabbed the kitchen knife to her left and stabbed

Nakita pulls out a knife from her bag. “ You have been my favorite to choose from , so young and so full of herself.” She places the knife around a skull tattoo on her left leg. “ Your to young for tattoos , and a disgrace for beautiful skin .” “ Did you think about how your skin was gonna feel when you covered it with that filth?” Kristy screams and cries through her gag , moving around. “ I'm gonna take back that filth from your body.” Nakita slices the skull tattoo off , watching the blood drain in her empty gallon bottle . She then places the knife on her back spine , where she has a full Gothic spine tattooed on her . “ Your back too Kristy?” “ Why would you do that to your beautiful skin , is it cause your so dark , you don't believe in God?” “ I guarantee you in just a moment , your gonna be begging God for his forgiveness .” She takes the knife , cutting the tattoo off down her spine , the blood dripping down to her toes and into the empty jug . Nakita places the jug in the dead center underneath her , pulling out a machete , placing it on her throat. “ You have redeemed yourself Kristy , your blood will be in good use and your soul?” “ Well that's up to God now.” She slices her neck with the machete , watching the blood drain down to the jug. She stares at Kristy's blood covered body , smiling with goosebumps , she then hears a crash from outside as she turns around kicking the jug of

One night, thoroughly past her bedtime, Georgiana crept stealthily downstairs to sneak a bite of pie, even though her mother would never approve. She immediately realized a heavy drape of desolation. The only noise was her heart beating to the rapid rhythm of the twitching fan. Georgiana thought that no one would be awake at one in the morning. She slipped through the doorway into the kitchen. For an instant, her heart stopped. A dreadful sight stood in her way. An innocent and isolated individual lay with his hand grasping for life, but it was already over. Taking a step back, she

Learning to fight for your life was easier than this. Though the life was difficult in itself nothing came close to the difficulty of watching someone you love walk away, it seemed to only get harder even if it was your fault in the end. Pushing people away was a specialty of his and when it actually worked it was earth shattering. The silence pointed out the flaws that he’d managed to go without noticing with her by his side but now they screamed at him yet again. He was back to the self-destructive, sacrificial, self-loathing creature he always was. Though he always knew his family was broken it wasn’t even close to this damaged. He wasn’t the only one that felt the loss, his brother had lost someone as well. It was a feeling in the air

“I’m sorry to ask this again Ms.Fink, but could you please restate what happened the night of the murders?” I knew what they were doing. It didn’t take a mastermind to figure out that they are trying to pin the murders on me, anyone who had ever watched a crime show in their life would have caught on. “I got home from work, my mom was cooking in the kitchen, my dad was watching football in the living room, and my sister and brother were wrestling down the stairs. I hopped into the shower and began to sing, just as I always do. The yelling and screaming grew louder, but I just figured that mom and dad were fighting again. After I finished showering, to my disbelief my sister was lying dead, surrounded by her own blood, on the floor. A few steps and there was my brother, also dead. By then time had

She whipped her eyes towards him, but suddenly lurched and fell to the ground. The world slowed, she felt something warm and sticky pool around her. She had managed to turn her head in his direction, only then seeing the enemy army that had caught up with them. One knight savaged her son with his sword and then discarded his body. She tried to reach him, but a spear protruding from her back weighed her down. Then she saw us again, watched as the way the enemy avoided us . She felt cold, knowing her time had come , she looked right in my eyes as her life thread was cut. The end frayed as her body slumped to the ground, but it didn’t matter. She was one insignificant life that we had

As sick as it was Gabby needed a drink, and she hated herself for it. Pulling her knees up Gabby rested her head against them and wrapped her hands around her ears as if to block out the world. It felt as if she were being sucked down the rabbit hole, her world spiraling out of control. And the only anchor she had was dying next to her, and she was the one that killed him. "fuck." she sobbed softly tried to block out all the other people arriving. She wanted to crawl into her own skin and disappear, but she couldn't do that. At least not until she knew Hunter would be

Social media is the one of the most powerful and real entity in the world. It has influenced people’s live and perspective. Throughout the episodes, the director has used range of advanced directing adroitness to depict Saskia’s character through the eyes of the audience. The director’s creative use of technique and rich words creates a lucid image of Saskia’s action and behaviour in the spectators’ mind. The use of her distinct words pours a vivid perception in our mind that emphasis, Saskia is a typical teenager, who uses colloquial language and slang to express her thoughts and ideas to other. Dialogues that represents Saskia character includes “you just have been sprung”, instead of saying you have been caught. Not only she uses expression

“Demaris was shot.” He stopped. “I’m sorry.” Then he left without saying anything else. After we heard the slam of the door, I fell to the ground. My mother and I laid there the rest of the night and cried ourselves to sleep.

She reaches for the lock and he bites off her arm, and then the people start spewing out of the windows and each is a rat dragging a building and screaming for her to unloose them. She wakes up and, afraid that she might get used to all that he hat and fears about the street, resolves to keep fighting and get away. She thinks of an afternoon the spring before when she had seen a crowd around a man who had been stabbed by a butcher on Lenox Avenue and