"How does it feel to know you are about to die?"
This was the question
that lurked in the mind of a serial killer about to mark the prey. More than
twelve people have been asked this one question by a person with no heart, no
soul, and till this day no repentance. A person born into a world of
darkness, who in the eyes of all people was thought of as nothing more than a
monster in a view of one eye, but an angel in another.
In the large two story house, where the upper class lived and went on with there daily lives, the immense wooden door was open. The door of a black Corvette was closed calmly as a normal girl stepped out of the car. A spoiled little brat who never even had a touch of real pain stood outside her gorgeous lawn with the garden set up; the entire outside was groomed and perfect. Not one spec of dirt was to be seen out of place. Except the driveway, which contained a white Lexus and a trail of dirt leading inside the house. The young woman, between sixteen & seventeen years old, looked at the calm and gentle sky as the full moon glimmered upon her long blonde hair. She began to walk in and in her mind she wondered why her perfect home was such a mess in her view. She calmly walked through the door.
Slam!
As the door closed shut, the gigantic man of massive proportions grabbed this young girl from behind and stuck a jagged bloody knife in front of her. She screamed began to cry, as she feared for the worst.
The man threw the young girl to the floor and her head smashed against
the wall and she fell to the floor. It was becoming hard for her to see
now.
She began to feel as if she were a feather.
Then she blacked out.
Suddenly, her sight began to come about. It was dark. She noticed she was back in her room safely again. She sat up wondering if it was all a dream. She leaned over to her dresser and turned out a little lamp. She reached over for a glass of water and took a little sip. She felt calm and safe now. She lied back down but had felt reluctant to turn off the light. As she began to lie down she felt a drip on her forehead and quickly turned on the light.
She looked up to see her father cut opened and nailed to the wall. His guts were stretched out and beginning to fall.
She quickly got up and ran out of her room screaming at the top of her lungs. Her room was atop the stairs so she feared entering the hall, knowing that the man in black was out there. She circumspectly walked out of her door with her eyes in tears, holding her mouth so not to make a noise.
The girl slowly walked toward the staircase, but there was a room right beside the stairs. She thought for a moment and grabbed a vase, just in case. She again walked toward the room. She heard motion within it. In the darkness she crept up behind the man and smashed the vase on top of him. The man fell to the floor.
Suddenly the girl, still dressed in her clothes from her date, noticed the blood stains on her blouse. A light was turned on and the man held a shotgun to the back of her head. She froze.
"Tell me young woman, how does it feel to be a killer?" The man in black asked.
She finally got a good look at him. He was dressed all in black; he had long black curly hair, black sunglasses, a black goatee, a long black leather trench coat, a black shirt, black jeans, and black boots. He wore a large smirk on his face as the young girl looked down to see she had just killed her older brother, who had fallen onto a large floor of spikes. Blood leaked onto the floor and the young girl once again came to tears. The young brother, only in his twenties, was tied up from each side of the room using rope and tie hooks.
"Now come over here, we are going to have a little chat before the cops come." The man said. He looked to be in his early thirties and was massive.
He had the shotgun follow her as they stepped into the living room. She sat on the couch and the man pulled up his own seat right in front of her. The man started the conversation.
"Ahh, come on Susan, you must have something to say. I mean, come on, not only did you just kill your own brother, but you are about to get sent to maximum security prison."
"It was self defense! How do you know my name, what do you want?" Susan let out.
"Oh, aren't we the anxious one? Well, Susan, it was not self defense in my view, because who were you protecting yourself from, huh Susan?" The man said in reply.
"You!" She furiously let out.
"Protecting yourself from me? Protecting yourself from me is a whole different story. You have to figure it out for yourself, Susan." The man said.
"Who are you? You're that killer I've heard of, aren't you?" Susan again asked.
"Oh correct, what do we have for her, Johnny?" The man says sarcastically.
"Why are you here?" Susan asked.
"Because you want me to be here, Susan," the man replies.
"What do you mean?" Susan asked, confused.
"Oh God, teenagers. Come on, Susan, I am your perfect fit for a serial
killer, aren't I? I mean, look at me: all in black, big: you figure it out.
All the students killed, Linda, the girl who stole your boyfriend, Ken; the
only kid who had a higher GPA than you, with him out of the picture, you'll be top of your class! And let's not forget the most recent victim, Jim,
your older brother. The one who always got your parents' attention. When you
walked in and you slipped on the blood, I wasn't even there! You got up, mopped
around, killed the boy friend who heard you scream, then hacked off the
parents before you finally hit the sheets."
"What are you trying to say?!" Susan asked, afraid for what the answer
might be.
"Jeez, Susan, let me put this in plain, simple English:
I AM YOU!
I AM A
FRAGMENT OF YOUR IMAGINATION.
Here, take a look," the man says as he hands
Susan the shotgun.
She can hear the sirens of the cops coming, and she begins to remember
what really happened. She was the killer. In a fit of rage and denial, she tried to
shoot through the man, yet nothing.
He just stood there laughing, laughing in her face.
Again she shot at nothing, and she realized what she had to do.
Bang.
