1: that man

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I closed the running tap, searching for a towel to dry my hands as I realised there were still faint splatters and drops around the sink and on the tiles. Swiftly, I wiped them clean with some toilet paper and then disposed of it.

It only ever hits me when I'm washing my hands. The things I do previously come flooding back, and I could almost taste the adrenaline from before, which quickly drops as I process what I had done again.

Call me crazy but there actually is a bit of a rise in adrenaline when you're killing someone. And the fear of getting caught just adds to it.

I work alone, for myself. Don't get me wrong, however, I don't go out pointing rifles at anybody in my way and tallying off my kills. There are specific targets; people which have screwed me over, for example.

Once, I had a partner, Matt. He was around 17 when we met, and we stayed friends until he sadly died. He was slick, but had too much of a big mouth, and singlehandedly destroyed my life. At a point, I felt bad for killing my sidekick, but he brought it upon himself.

He had a funeral. Sure, others did too, but I attended this one.

Matt helped me build my cellar whilst my Mom kicked me out towards the end of the school year. Soon after, I moved into the house as I attended college, the cellar being where I hide all of my weapons, and well.. anything to do with my murders. I take notes of every killing, making sure nothing was similar to the previous, but somehow linked to it.
It was like a big game for the police to figure out.

However, when things get too heated and services such as the FBI begin to get involved, I stop for a few weeks. And then it's like hell is unleashed inside of me, going for anything up to 3 daily murders.

There is a need to kill in me. And I can't control it enough.

I realised I was a sociopath when I turned 17 and found it difficult to establish relationships with people, and I didn't feel remorse whatsoever. There's more to that, but I like that you perceive me as a monster for now.

More of a shock in the long run.

The only people I can properly speak to are my siblings and my one and only true friends, Carter and Nate. They were both too nice for me to involve in killings; and honestly, I wouldn't want my boys to see me at my worst.

"Hello," I picked up and put it on speaker as I proceeded to get changed.

"Hi dude! Been trying to call you all day!" Nate exclaims, sounding excited. "I have some juicy gossip to tell you."

"Dude, be a dude." I chuckled.

"Alright but listen-"

Après ça, he indulged into a long talk about his girlfriend Jade and how they make each other really happy. It made me happy too, because he was finally over Hannah, who was the one to break his heart.

I used this time to pen down my latest murder, Brianna Keele.

She was this pretty barista, who almost destroyed Rydel's relationship. I believed Ell was throwing himself at her until he appeared at my house at 3am, crying so hard I thought he was bound to die by the morning.

He told me how Brianna forced him to play along, otherwise she would go to the police saying he raped her. It was wrong in many levels - I may be a deranged, cold sociopath but, rape is nothing to joke around with.

Well, I shrugged, continuing to write. She's gone now, her ashes probably travelling towards Huntington Beach.

"You there?- what's that?" He referred to the buzzing on my phone, signalling my sister calling.

"Call you back in a bit - hello."

"Hi Ross! How are you?" She chirped.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Amazing, and I'm glad to hear!" She was always so happy. "Anyway, I was calling to ask if you were still coming to Ryland's football game tomorrow night?"

"Suppose I can drop by," it means a lot to him, and last thing I want is to make my brother give up on me too. "Yeah, save me a seat"

"Yay! We're having a little get-together before at my house and then walking over to watch, try to make it for 5- oh shit! Be there! Bye!" And she was gone, yelling about the smell of burnt muffins to Ellington.

I chuckled. She's wacky but she was a ray of happiness, nonetheless.

After I put the journal away, I collected a cup of tea and headed back to bed; tomorrow was going to be the day I put on a happy face and pretended my life wasn't tearing at the seams.

Only then did I decide to look at the newspaper, and it's headline.

'4 Year Anniversary of Graduation Party Mass Murder - Killer Still On the Loose'

I know what you're thinking- how can this motherfucker sleep when he has killed so many people. It's pretty easy, and you know why?

I smiled, my hands at the back of my head as I settled into bed. "Ghosts don't bite."

mad hatter // r.s.l. Onde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora