I Streamed a Serial Killer’s Fate / Chapter 2: The Monk’s Sin and the Spirit Pearl
I Streamed a Serial Killer’s Fate

I Streamed a Serial Killer’s Fate

Author: Hunter Farrell


Chapter 2: The Monk’s Sin and the Spirit Pearl

She paid up. Maybe $1.99 felt too cheap, so she threw in a virtual plane.

A plane is $50. Livestreaming? Absolute goldmine.

Nine more planes. I nearly fell off my chair.

Guess I really couldn’t let her down.

I shot her a quick message: "The invisibility charm is under the flowerpot in the corner. Take it and stick it to your forehead." Yeah, it’s that kind of night.

Mercedes Lady thanked me, found the charm, and started down the stairs.

She moved slow. The emergency lights flickered out.

Even I was holding my breath.

She stomped her foot and the lights flickered back on.

Then footsteps echoed from below.

She kept going, trying to stay calm.

Suddenly, we saw Mr. Whitaker. Gone was the gentle, composed TV persona; now he wore a black leather jacket, his eyes—cold, like a wolf.

[Whoa! That’s terrifying!]

[Back up!]

[Host, do something!]

[No way. He was so gentle on TV—totally different vibe. Is it really the same guy?]

[I’m starting to believe the host. He really does have a killer vibe.]

[Girl, don’t let him see you.]

Mercedes Lady crept along the wall, but when she saw Mr. Whitaker doing the same, she veered toward the stairs.

Mr. Whitaker seemed not to notice her.

Just when we all started to breathe again, he stopped.

I typed quickly: "Don’t look into his eyes!"

But Mercedes Lady missed my message and instinctively glanced at him—his eyes were blood-red, impossible to ignore.

The invisibility charm started to fade. I yelled, "Run!"

She didn’t hesitate, but after a few steps, her sneakers reappeared. Uh-oh.

Mr. Whitaker realized something and chased after her with a pocket knife.

He was gaining on her, fast. Mercedes Lady was panicking.

[Host, help her! She’s so pretty!]

[Girl, drop your address, we’ll call 911!]

But Mercedes Lady couldn’t check her phone.

The chat blew up. Seeing things spiral, I said, "Babies, that’s all for tonight. If I have time, I’ll stream again tomorrow."

[Is the host going to save her?]

[Host, don’t end the stream! I’ll send more gifts!]

I sighed. I didn’t want to keep streaming, but with all those gifts, I couldn’t just log off. Guilt is a hell of a motivator.

"Babies, if you’re squeamish, log off. I’m heading out."

No more hiding—I threw up a hand sign and, call it psychic WiFi, zipped through the network, popping up right in front of Mercedes Lady.

Then I dropped a freezing spell on Mr. Whitaker, locking him in place.

He’d looked fierce, knife raised, but now he was frozen.

She didn’t hold back. Mercedes Lady, seeing him immobilized, ran up and kicked him hard, sending him tumbling down the stairs. He ended up bruised and bleeding.

Still not satisfied, she wanted to kick him again.

"I can only freeze him for five minutes. Run!"

Mercedes Lady finally panicked and hurried away with me.

I took her straight to the nearest police station.

But something was off. I looked around. Where was this police station? It was clearly a mansion.

The Mr. Whitaker who’d been frozen and kicked now appeared, dressed in white, strolling out of the mansion.

"I heard you called me a serial killer?"

My blood ran cold.

I thought I’d saved Mercedes Lady, but I’d sent her into the lion’s den.

I forced a smile. "Mr. Whitaker, you must have me confused with someone else."

I tried to run, but my feet wouldn’t budge.

Seeing me struggle, Mr. Whitaker laughed darkly.

Then he pulled out his knife. "I’ll take care of you first, then her."

He stabbed at me. I managed to slap a charm on his forehead.

He looked ridiculous, charm stuck to his face, still laughing maniacally.

[LOL, the host outsmarted Mr. Whitaker!]

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