The Beginning of a Thriller...Maybe?

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So I decided to start a thriller based on a Wattpad contest. They want a pscho thriller but I'm not sure about how to start that. I've only ever written dark poems, never tried a story but I started one last night and I guess I'll see where it goes. This is 536 words so over their limit anyway as they want 500 words or less. Detective Monroe walked up the cottage path, led by a bright full moon. He didn’t expect a call to come in at this time of night but he also couldn’t say he was surprised, that was why he kept clothes on top of a cedar chest that has a home at the foot of his bed. A bed he shared with a willing woman tonight and who was not that happy about being woken up at this time of night. It was midnight on All Hallows Eve and his little town was always good for the usual pranks and jokes. Tonight however, was not your typical All Hallows Eve night. The call tonight was not a prank though he fervently had wished it was. No, tonight he had been called out to the cottage that sits by itself at the end of a cul de sac. It was the top house and behind it was acre upon acre of woods. No one had ever met the family that had moved in there only a month back. Everyone just figured that they were still settling in. It’s a small town and if they were out and about someone would have known and started to spread the word. What they had seen over that month, was two u-haul trucks and a couple of visitors that never stayed longer than a few hours. All from out of state. Walking into the cottage now, it was like walking into a nightmare. One that he had many nights before when he had been a city cop and too late to a scene. This could possibly be worse. There was blood everywhere and on everything. The TV in the living had spray on it, the couch was saturated to the point you would think that red was the original color. The small body that lay under the coffee table was arranged neatly. Arms crossed over the baby’s chest, face peaceful, hair brushed and fanned out around her face…and no blood around her. The table was circled in blood but about two inches from the body, it was clean. As in not even a drop. She was only six. In the dining room, the body of an adult female lay on top of the table and the killer had left the blood pool out from her and drip off of the table. The killer had taken the same care with her as he had with the child. She lay in the middle of the table with her hair brushed and fanned out, arms crossed her chest, and this time her feet were crossed at the ankles. I knew when I walked behind him, what he was thinking. Where are the boyfriend and son? When the detective called me at home, I didn’t believe him. The true criminals take All Hallows Eve night off. It’s reserved for the pranksters and the jokers because the real ones wouldn’t degrade themselves like that. Some a**holes just had too much pride. That was fine with me though because it made it a relatively easy night. Tonight was not so easy. It’s never easy when you get the call that your whole family had been massacred.