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Newham Murders

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Joan McKinney, 56.

On the early morning of Sunday, she was found deceased recently, laying face down in a ditch. It had been speculated that the woman was stabbed repeatedly in the groin before her throat was slit open, dark bruising coating her wrists. The corpse had been deceased for around 2 to 3 days, with no DNA surfacing from the victim. Many suspects had been sought out, but none of them had any leads to the murderer who slaughtered Ms. McKinney in cold blood. The case remains open, but no luck has played in the department's favour of avenging the bookshop owner who had planned on retiring in the early month of July.

Ms. McKinney had left behind a husband and three children, and her funeral plans are being arranged next Tuesday.

Footsteps began to tread down the clear linoleum, a backpack slung over the shoulder of their owner. The halls had been filled with pure silence, the majority of students having already left to venture on home, apart from one person. He had stayed behind a little longer than he'd expected due to having spoke with one of his professors, who had been...worried lately about the disappearances that occurred each month. Just a safety precaution he figured, after a couple of A+ students had been abducted weeks prior. His fascination with chemicals was quite an odd one; despite being one of the most intelligent students the university had to offer, his mind was more preoccupied on science and chemistry, spending countless of hours studying on their effects. It was considered as a hobby of his even, one that would eventually take up the majority of his time.

He had taken a trail separate from the other students, choosing to stay away from the much more popular crowds. The only person he considered much of a friend, Ralph Willis, left an hour before he did, but he knew the guy would eventually come to him with help for his own homework. Typical of him. Danny kept a secure grasp on his school bag, twigs underneath his feet cracking. He continued to push himself through branches before he eventually reached the light; the exit of the forest. A place he knew that what goes on inside of there, wouldn't be discovered from the outside. The occasional visitors that stumbled on the dark secrets never made it out to tell the story, leaving behind another mystery the police haven't uncovered.

An old, abandoned cabin crept to his view, a large lake stretching out from beyond the isolated building. The atmosphere was murky, a rather vexatious scent clinging to the air. He dumped his bag down on the wooden table in the small kitchen area, his eyes coming into contact with a crate he always kept in this room. It was the stench in particular that drafted its way from its sealed prison, enough to make a person hurl if it ever hit their nostrils. He took in a deep breath but chose to ignore its contents for now, scrunching up pieces of paper as fuel for the ongoing fire outside. Clothing would eventually be added onto the roaring flames too, the orange heat gobbling up everything in its path without mercy. Danny slid a pair of white gloves from his hands, ones that seemed would belong more in a medical environment, rather than a university student. They sported little droplets of stains, a deep crimson in colour. He watched as the fire ate fiercely through the latex material, jabbing it with a poker a few times before heading back inside.