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The StoryEdit

In 2011 ended an untold story of many years. The story was Richelle's and not a soul has the courage to ask her of it.
The newspapers however had a section that released for sale early in the morning. Richelle had discovered this and secured and burnt all copies. She also killed the people that knew of it. All but one copy survived.


The search for Melody Founders (22) is over and the case of the day-time mutalator has been closed. Yesterday, there had been a 911 phonecall from a house in Ohio. A heavy-southern accent of a man named Gene-Anderson picked up, "I can hear screaming from my neighbours house, officer. The only person that lives there is a guy. Didn't know he had any company, not seen the guy in a long time - just thought I'd call".
The officer took the address 177 Houteville Close and searched through known or unknown records. There had been previous issues with this address but mostly late payment of bills and such. Although, one thing struck the cop with a sea of confusion...The previous owner of this address had committed suicide right on his doorstep. He had hung himself by the lightchord and swung for a full night before the mailman saw him early in the morning.


The officer in charge of this call had set way to 177 Houteville. It was 7 miles from the station and Bob, the cop for the case, didn't feel too good about this one. A very confident phonecall..About a house with no occupant..who was Gene? Who was screaming? Around 1 mile from the destination, Bob received a shrieking sound over his walky-talky. It connected with his police radio and had deafened him temporarily, the car swerved almost head-on towards a lamp post but he retained direction and shrugged it off with a sigh and a brow wipe. He grabbed his walky and asked for back up to show up just as he arrived near 177.


The house was big. A very Haunting in Connecticut-type build and nextdoor was number 175, a modern beautiful home owned by a Gene Anderson. The cop looked to see if Gene would come out onto his front but nothing happened.
As Bob casually walked to 177 he gave a good hard knock on the large ornate door. The knocker was half a lions head that no longer worked. Bob instantly heard cries of pain and joy coming from inside the house. He paced back and took a charge at the door - it was barely shut as he broke in and tumbled down embarrassingly. The noise of the landing and what Bob could see kept everything at a stand still. Unsettled dust had been reborn, meals upon meals set up on plates now rotted and untouched. Glasses of drinks and bottles mid-use. Wallpaper clutching on by a pinch and hardword floors no longer so-hard. After a minute of inspection, the screaming kicked off, it was now decipherable, "Down here! The basement, I'm in the basement! Help me!". Officer Bob took to the basement door rushing past vintage decay and musky still stenches. The door handle, as much as everything is classy here was rusted and old looking. It was also a manhole and not a door. He lifted the rusty handle and plunged aside with a crying grunt...


In the hole, about 20feet down lay two figures. One was darker than the other and Bob could hear the brighter one panting and crying. He shone his torch and could see that there was no movement whatsoever. He hesitated about going down alone but recalled the back up he called in. He guessed they would arrive so he went down. He was saying everything he was doing as he was doing it to reassure what was a screaming girl that safety is here. He just about popped his stomach through the hole until he slipped through and fell to the bottom. A loud cracking sound shot from his left knee - it was broken but it didn't phase him. He was still. Eyes wide open as he took a photograph of what it was he found. He was looking at himself, tied by the wrists to his ex wife. His own face, dead and rotten and his wife as gorgeous as he remembered her..she breathed her last breath as he took the photo. He then heard single footsteps above. It was the back up he called for, just one cop and a flashlight. He looked at the photograph of his dead wife and began to cry and put the camera down. He then remembered everything..
Melody was the girl of Bobs dreams. She was a childhood love and a partner for life. Until one day he found out she had been cheating. On her day off work, he proposed a day of sorting the house out for family and friends. They started at tea time and began in the Basement. Having cooked tea and set it all out, he asked Melody to stay in the basement a moment. He then climbed down and with sudden murder in his eyes, he grabbed her and sat her towards the basement ladder. Bob said he knew what she did and told her of an eternity with him. She said she was sorry but she can no longer live with him after what she had done.
Bob tied himself to her wrist, and then tied them both to the bottom step ladder. He cried and sobbed about everything wishing it hadn't happened and wanting his love to stay forever. She was back to back with him and couldnt see at the angle they had been tied at. But at this stage she could only hear choking. Her fingers of freedom patted the cold floor and could feel a wet thick substance looming. Bob had slit his throat during his cries. This is what he meant by eternity.


Melody lived for a month tied to her dead partners body, until every month a cop comes to rescue them. For Melody and Bob together, they will never end. Love is never perfect and sometimes hard to leave. But for Melody is the reason Richelle stays free. And the reason why Richelle will cut your testicles off if you EVER try to hit on her.


Melody Founders 1978-2011

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