Please tell me whether you think is a good start to a story or not:
~~~
He opens the door with out making a sound. With his hands tightly gripping the cold handle of the knife, he sneaks into the room as quietly as a black cat. Slowly Luc inches closer to the bed. He stops; breaths in the musky air around him; lets it tingle every fibre in his body.
He watches them sleep, watches them draw in their last few breaths.
He holds up the knife. Draws it closer. Closer. Closer. Stab. Skewers the knife right into her stomach.
He smirks at the look of shock on her face. He doesn’t even give her a chance to scream. He takes the knife slowly out of her, wipes it clean on the immaculate bed sheets; prepares it or its next penetration. Her husband is lying next to her. He has to die as well. Luc wasn’t going to let him go. He just takes one look at his smug face, and that’s all he needs to enrage the anger. He can’t hold it in. Stab. Stab. Stab.
Luc goes into the kitchen, makes himself a pastrami sandwich, and creeps out just as he had came in.
The couple didn’t know who Luc was; nor had they ever encountered him. But Luc despised them regardless. He had been watching them for a while; day in, day out. He knows all their comings and goings. Most of all, he knows how happy they were. That was the problem.
***
Luc came home from work. He found his beautiful wife at the kitchen cooking one of his favourite meals. When she saw him, her eyes lit up, she ran up to him and gave him a big hug. He lifted her up, and spun her around in a circle. God, he loved her so much; every bit of her. The flowery smell of her soft, brunette hair; the feel of her ever so smooth skin, and the way she kissed him with such intensity. All he cared about was making her happy and spending the rest of his life with her. Nothing else mattered.
***
In front of the Diamond apartment block, there was the Coffee club, Luc’s haven and ultimate place to relax. As he draws his handkerchief closer to breathe in the strong turpentine smell, he reads the newspaper. An article titled “Young Couple Mysteriously Murdered†catches his eye. He smirks as he reads it, especially at Inspector Reynolds’ comment:
“We have no leads on the murderer. We are inclined to speculate that perhaps it was the husband who killed his wife and himself. The weapon was found in the husband’s hand. There will be further investigation in this matter.â€Â
Everything was going to plan. And so it should. Luc was no amateur. He knows how to sidestep the police; it was more of a game to him than a precaution.
Luc looked at his watch. 4:00pm exactly. He slowly turns his head up and sees her coming out of her apartment. Right on time he thinks to himself. His eyes stay one step ahead of her perfect, slender body; he knows where she is headed.
He inspires the essence of turpentine on handkerchief as he watches her cross the road and hail a taxi. She gets in, he’s not far behind.
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I have to emphasise that this is only the start to about something that is goint to be three times as long.
Please give me your thoughts...be as critical as you like....
Please help me if you can.
Thank you.
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