It's November 20th at 5:30 pm in the evening inside an insane asylum I'm forbidden to say the name due to circumstances. I'm here to interview the most notorious serial killer to date with his death count being a frightening 100 kills in just 4 months and that's just the confirmed kills. They insist on keeping him locked up in here for research purposes and obviously permanently locked up. Which in my mind makes no damn sense whatsoever but, it’s one of the reasons I'm here? I want to pry into his personal life and see exactly what went wrong as a child that drove him to be the monster he became. It's not something I look forward to at all just his name infuriates me to the point where I want to is just run far, far away from this damned town. I'm driving towards the asylum with a bit of nervousness and uncertainty about what I'm doing and what I'm getting myself into. I get out of the car and see this almost deserted-looking building with black and broken shutters and what looks like blood stains on the windows. I walked towards the front door and rang the intercom “Doctor Branson here to see my patient” as I flash my identification card to a camera staring straight at me. The automatic doors open and I took a deep breath and descended into Hell. The inside was a complete opposite of the outside everything was completely clean and almost gave off an old-school hospital with the vintage appearance and they're patients walking around supervised and I'm just soaking up the atmosphere because I realize sometimes how good I have it. I walked up to the front desk where there was a lady probably in her mid-thirties with long curly hair and eyes that'll drown you in the ocean. Probably just sounding cringe but it's the best I can describe her. “Excuse me mam I'm doctor Branson I'm here to see Pierce Taylor.” She looked at me with this face of just complete and utter fear. It's like the devil himself was playing around in her mind. “Ummmm… ye-yeah we're expecting you let me notify the higher ups that you've arrived.” I nodded and looked around and saw that a vast majority of people, mostly patients just staring at me like I had some type of disease or something it was very unsettling. Then the desk clerk spoke, “okay Doctor Branson just take the stairs down to the lower level and it'll be the third door to the right.” I then said, “thank you so much, my dear. “I started towards the doors that opened to the stairs and started my way down. As I was walking down the stairs two doctors, they were sandwiching a patient and walking upstairs and he was yelling at the top of his lungs “THE DEVIL IS HERE!!! IM TELLING YOU!! HE’LL SEND YOU TO HELL!!! HE LIVES AMONG US!!!” That sent goosebumps through my goosebumps. Getting more and more anxious the lower I got I realized that I had a job to do and no matter what I got to do my best to not lose it and stay calm and collected. As I got to the bottom of the stairs, I looked down the hallway that had almost twelve doors side to side. The atmosphere was so thick and it was quite like you could hear a feather drop. I walked towards the doors and went to the appropriate one and on it said “Office” on a gold plaque. I open the door and it led to your average looking office with a desk clerk somewhat similar to the lady upstairs but this one had little to no emotion upon her face like she'd been here forever. Then I walked towards her and said: “Excuse me, dear, I'm here for...” “I know what you're here for just sign in here and go out that door and go to the last door in the hallway on the left.” That came off as rather rude and unprofessional but I did as told and signed in and walked out of the office and walked down to the door that will lead me to the man who is responsible for 100+ deaths in one town. as I got closer, I was trying to keep the most solid and secure face I could. As I grabbed the doorknob my hand began to tremble and it shook it for a few seconds then I collected myself and finally opened the door and when I looked into the room and it was a dark room with one lamp in the middle with table and chairs. Then I just noticed the man one side of the table with his head sulked down and as soon as I closed the door lights came on around each corner and it revealed heavily armed guards with guns and equipment ready. Then he slowly moved his head up and looked straight into my eyes and motioned his finger to tell me to sit down and I did just that and when I sat down, I took a deep breath and I started my testing and analyzing of this crooked man. He looked at me straight into my eyes and said in a very deep and scratchy voice “So, are you my therapist or what kind of doctor are you?” I immediately responded “No, I’m no doctor just a publisher for the New York times and I’m here to conduct an interview on you for a story I’m currently working on.” He grimaced “Ah so everybody wants to know what’s going on in my head, right?” I responded “Just to see the psychology of a man who killed 100 people in a very short amount of time for what seemed to have no motive whatsoever to just kill, kill, and kill.” He smiled very crooked and said “well before you ask any of those cliché interview question that bores everyone to tears let me tell you about my first ever kill that you may find interesting.” I couldn’t remember his first victim off the top off my head. I was dealing with a bit of a hangover due the nervous drinking I did the night before. I then told him “Sure, go right on ahead let me start recording” I pulled my voice recorder and as I was placing it, I pressed the record button and began my interview with not a man but a monster in a human vessel for what I heard next was something I was not prepared for. He then started “I was just starting my masterpiece in this town several months ago and I was looking for a bit of a warmup to kick things off. I scoured the neighborhoods at night peering through windows looking at unsuspecting Neanderthals and I came across this man in particular who looked like he just lost his job or something due to the fact he was crying like a pathetic child sitting on his dining room table with a work vest in front of him along with bruises on his fist which was most likely from punching a wall. I started to smile at this opportunity cause what’s better than putting a pathetic depressed sucker out of his misery, right? So, I proceeded to go around back to his patio door which led into his kitchen. This idiot had his back-patio door unlocked and I wanted to laugh in complete euphoria but obviously I wanted to remain quiet at least till I got to him. I slowly opened the back door and went into his house. He was actually a very clean individual with a near spotless kitchen and everything. He was still crying in his dining room so that gave me time to contemplate my masterpiece. I grabbed a long butcher knife from one of his silverware drawers and I had a great idea which was absolutely mind boggling to say the least. I crept into his dining room and looked at him for what seemed like a few minutes and pushed his head into the table to not knock him out but to get his attention. He yelled in pain and as soon as he stood up turned around I grabbed the back of his neck with my empty hand and shoved the knife straight into the throat which left him speechless then I pulled the knife away and then in quick succession I stabbed him in the center of his forehead with great force the blade pierced his brain and his good and dead but to finish off the fun I dragged his lifeless body through his house and wouldn’t you know it I peered out the back window where I came from and saw a man dressed in black looking straight at me. Looks like this guy was a paid hitman so I’m assuming this guy did something bad to someone to have this unlucky of a day. He came in the house and he was the silent kind but his expressions speaked volumes when he saw the butcher knife still lodged in his head. I picked up the body and tossed him like a ragdoll towards the hitman and them quickly grabbed a combat knife from my back pocket and threw it straight into the hitman’s right eye and pounced on him and proceeded to stab and slash around 30 times for good measure then I had the best idea ever, I went around the house to find his heater unit and found a huge container of gasoline in his garage while I was looking for it. Luckily it wasn’t to far from an exit so I saturated the heater unit with gasoline and started to make a trail with it and proceeded to make my exit out a sliding glass door. I got about ten feet outside and stopped. This house was about to be ancient history and I couldn’t wait. I struck the match and threw it on the ground and I immediately ran like the devil in hell and it wasn’t too much longer till I heard and saw from a great distance the massive explosion that was so beautiful to see. The whole house was crumbling and burning to the ground the nearest house was a block away as this side of the neighborhood was still in some developmental stage so it so perfect it just like a beacon of opportunity and let me tell you something that was honestly the most satisfying one out of all my masterpieces.” That gruesome story sent chills down my spine and I actually remembered the incident clearly it was a guy named Francis he was just “suspended” from his job as a maintenance man at a local superstore for misbehavior and harassment of female coworkers cause they apparently gave him the wrong numbers so went into a deep depression and completely lost it and actually cornered a online grocery coworker and was jumping down her throat. After that he was sent away for good then this event took place the night of which was just terrifying. Talk about an interesting fate. I’m just dumbfounded by his story it’s like he honestly thinks he’s an artist of some sorts. He’s every bit of the devil the people say he is and you can see it in his cold but expressed look in his eyes. So then I asked him “When you killed Francis did you ever think for a second you’d do this kind of thing over and over again? He gave me that look like I said something absolutely ridiculous and looking back it was a bit of a dumb question. “ Of course I did boy. I wanted to make an example of these people who take their life for granted.” Then I asked “what is the one thing that you regret?” he actually seemed interested in that question as if something went off in his mind. Then he said “ I once broke into a house and once I got into earshot of my subjects I overheard the husband and wife arguing about something I believe it was custody or something in that regard and the talking turned into yelling then it transitioned into physical mayhem. My childhood flashes before my very eyes and I immediately snapped.. almost as much as that day I killed my father. I burst the basement door open with every single enraged fiber in my soul and removed the husband from the wife like he was a feather in the wind and just relentlessly punched him in the face while still holding him. I then slammed him on the ground and proceeded to stab him to death and while all this is happening the wife had passed out due to shock but what I saw next took me to a place of regret that I’ll never shake away. As I was done stabbing the husband I saw the kid across the way and he saw the whole thing happening and the face I saw was the same face my mom made when I killed my father and it made me shed tears to realize I’ve created a monster just then and I couldn’t take it back. He was crying profusely and screaming at the top of his lungs. He started towards me and he pounced. I let him beat me up as I knew what it was like to feel this kind of rage. He was only around 5 years and let me tell you he had a hell of a right hook. This lasted for about a minute or so then I had to get out of there cause I’ve done enough damage to this kid. I tugged his shirt and stood up and held him high and said “Remember the devil “ and I hit him hard enough to knock him unconscious and dropped him on the ground and then left the house.”
