The Object To Your Left (Serial Killer)



The object to your left is your weapon against a serial killer. Don’t just say “It’s a glass of water, I’m screwed,” describe what happens.

e.g. Cell Phone

I grab my phone and start dialing 911. I’m able to describe the situation and say my address, but the cops aren’t enough to get the killer to stop. Eventually the killer is apprehended, but not before I suffer some fatal knife wounds. RIP me :disappointed:


Old revolver.

I grab it, start yelling at the serial killer and pray to God they don’t realise it’s not loaded. Either this will work, and I’ll be able to keep him occupied until I can call the police and they get there, or he realises I’m bluffing and I die.


The Wall.

I don’t have anything. I’m going to die. I die.


A set square.

I grab it and help the killer with his maths homework because it turns out he’s a student. But he realizes I’m as bad as him in maths and he cut my throat with the set square.


A blue gel ink pen.

I grab it and hold it up as the killer advances on me with his knife raised. Not knowing how to wield a pen as a weopen against a knife, I start clicking it repeatively (like the annoying people in classes). The killer gets so agrevated that he passes out. I draw a mustache on his upper lip and a unibrow before running away from the scene screaming. I don’t die :wink:


A stupid indoor TV antennae.

I grab it and try to hit the killer with it, but the killer simply evades the throw (wouldn’t have expected anything less from a professional killer) and raises the gun. Yep, he’s got a bloody gun… great. A loud blast is the last thing I hear.


A green bag with an old gamecube and it’s controllers inside.
I throw a controller at the killer. He yelps in surprise but recovers quickly. I slide out of my chair but not before throwing the game cube at him. I hit his head and he falls. I run to the back door and quickly unlock the door, but not before the killer approaches me, large knife in hand. Luckily the killer has no idea the door is unlocked or that i know karate. I rush forward and punch him in the face then run out the door. I escape with a few scratches.


A pillow. I lie in wait for the killer, then take him by surprise, beating him with it until he tumbles to the ground. Then I smother him.


the murderer crosses my eyes and tells me that he was already blind before that, I tear out his tongue and I eat it and enjoy it as if it were a freshly made pizza completely full of tomato, delicious


A pillow

I hold the pillow at my face and hold still. The killer is confused. I use that confusions to kick him in the balls then I stuff his head into the pillow cover.


My giant teddy bear.

I cut him open with my scissors (which was to my right, sadly) and dig out his stuffing, making room for me to climb inside. Only he’s smaller than I am, so I’m stuck having half of my back stick out awkwardly as the killer enters the room. The freakish image of me hunched over inside of a teddy bear causes his gun to fire in surprise, killing me instantly.


A cloth bag. I guess I use this to try to strangle the serial killer, after luring him into standing next to me by claiming my laptop contains ‘cuttin’ edge memes’


Ahahahhah oh gosh the door to the mini makeshift garden…

I would probably unlock it…rush outside and take my chance with using the metal clothes screen that I would collapse as fast as I could
I might end up ramming him so he may topple onto the bed and (god forbid) knock my teamug down so I could escape in that process…


A jar of chocolate wafers

As I see the masked man slowly approach the edges of my bed, I shakily hand him my jar of chocolate wafers. I open the lid, revealing many of the delicious chocolate swirled sticks. The man stops. He looks inside the jar, and back at me. I tilt the jar towards him. He keeps staring at them. My hands are aching now, the shaking even more vigorous. Then he shrugs. Pulling up his mask to reveal my neighbour Jim, pulling one of the wafers and biting them. “Yeah, I just wanted your wafers all this time.”


A Glass of Lassi.

I was welcomed home after the compelling presentation from my boss. I stretched my legs and as I did I was welcomed with a drink. “Drink it up, sweetheart.” She said in her comfortable smooth voice. Her face had a smile and compassion. I smile back at her and drink the lassi she had poured in the glass. Few minutes pass by, I feel a choking sensation inside my throat and that’s when I knew something was wrong. Doubts are cleared when I vomit blood over the table and as I look back at her, I see the satisfying grin over her face. I could do nothing but say this, “Mother, why would you poison me?!”


The Sketch
The sound of graphite scratching against paper was the only sound to be heard in the dealthy quiet room. A yellow, dim light was emitted from a barely working desk lamp which kept flickering every now and then. She sat there, an array or sketch pencils infront of her. She was so emersed in her drawing that she didn’t hear the footsteps creeping up on her. In one quick motion, the hooded man struck grabbing her hair and pulling her backwards. But she was prepared, she had heard on the news that a killer had escaped and that he was sighted in her neighbourhood. She had been sketching him but it needed something. As she was pulled backwards she grabbed the knife, too her left, in a quick motion his throat was slit open. Blood pooled from the open wound, she grabbed her pallet catching some of the blood, grabbing a brush she began to paint onto the sketch. All it needed was a bit of colour.


A fucking white wall.

I stare at the wall, then to the killer, and return my gaze back to the wall. I flash him (or her) a nervous smile, before smashing my full force against the wall in an escape attempt. Thank goodness I’m dreaming and I can smash through walls like a ghost.


A giant glass, clear, with about 25% tea in it.

I smash the glass over the serial killer’s head, and I grab shards of glass and start stabbing the serial killer’s eyes with it. I manage to successfully gauge out his eyes, however, he’s stabbed me many times. We both bleed out on the beige carpeted floor.


My folder with my story inside.

The serial killer ascended the stairs, each footstep echoing through the stairwell, fear seeped through my body as I slowly lifted myself from bed, picking up the file from my side, looking through my room I find a corner not far from the exit. The door to my room creaks open as the figure entered my room, my small frame remains hunched beside the chimney breast as she walks further into my room. I launch myself from my previously crouched position to land behind this person, folder coming down on the back of their head as a yelp of pain floods through my room. The notebook from inside the file explodes, pages falling like autumn leaves as they floated towards the floor. I ran from my room; heading to the phone downstairs, leaving the attacker on my floor, surrounded by pages of writing: no longer readable as blood seeped through each sheet, ink blending with each drop.


Oh my @lifeispineapples that is great! I love how sinister the idea of her waiting for the killer to attack her so she could finish her sketches with a part of them.
Wonderful piece!!