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CHAPTER 1 -The old apartment-

I opened the old door into the apartment and stood there looking into the living room. It was nothing like home and I remembered that I wanted to live in a big farm house when I was a kid. I had a vivid imagination, one of those things I
grew away from.
I sighed and walked in, closing the door behind me with a slam. I stepped out infront of the mirror and wiped the dust off it. I touched my face and groaned low, how could I let myself get here.
I looked over my shoulder and glanced at the table that was filled with cigarettes and lighters. I sat down at the table and stroked my hand over the ashy surface and shrugged. Could have been worse, right?
Talking to myself had became a daily thing. I lifted upp a cigarette and moved it up to my mouth. As soon as it gently touched my lips I felt relaxed, like everything would be alright. I lighted it and leaned forward over the table getting my already dirty shirt even dirtier from the ashes.

I layed there for a while and just stared into the brown wall, it was a cold feeling all over the apartment, it didn't make it better when the cats started to make noises right outside the window. I threw cup out through the window and banged my head in the table when I realised I needed it. Bloody hell I hissed and got up angrily, I stared out through the window and closed it hard. I looked at myself in the window reflection and frowned. The face tattoo was a big regret, it was itchy and I always wanted to scratch it.
As I stood there I heard a big noise, like a window breaking and I turned around in a rapid movement. I was suprised that no one stood at my door. My eyes widen and my breathing became heavy, I felt a struggle in my chest.
"Someone there?" I raised my voice and reached for the knife on the bench, not taking my eyes off the door.
No one answered.
I shook my head and walked to the hall. I glanced out on the hall corners and tried to keep calm.
"Alexander?! is that you, man?" I yelled.
Alexander was an old "friend" that never knew when to stop, And It wouldn't suprise me if this was his act. Still no answer.
Then I saw a shadow from the old bedroom. I gripped around my knife harder and decided to go there, to face it. I held myself close to the wall and stopped. There I stood right outside the bedroom, gripping on a sharp knife in confusion.
I threw myself in the room and looked at my left yelling " WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE". I realised no one was there, just an old shirt making the shadow appear. I laughed at myself and tilted my head in relief. Just when I stopped laughing I could feel someone get up behind me. I swallowed and turned around in fear facing my mysterious intruder. A man faced me, rather tall since he was in my height. He appeared to be bigger because of his weight. In within a minute we were tossing around on the floor, raising our fists against eachothers faces.
I time after time looked fast at the knife laying at the hall corner where I dropped it before. If I only could reach it.
I clenched my fist and with all my strength I tried to hit his face, I managed to get some good hits making him weaker, but he was still on top, wich maked him stronger.
I struggled to get to the side so I could reach the knife and took some strong punches to my chest.
For a few seconds I couldn't see but I could feel the sharp edge of the knife gently touch my fingertips. I had the knife.
Without thinking I pressed the knife into him, I felt it go right into his body, but I could not see where. I just heard how everything went silent and something sticky started to drip down over my hand.

After a while I slowly opened my eyes and looked at the man. The knife was in his neck and I quickly pushed him off me.
I was shocked, yet suprised that I didn't feel bad. I had no guilt, I had to admit that I loved the feeling of it.
I shook my head fast and thought about it.
I liked the feeling of taking his life, such power. I knew things would be different from now on.
How could I stop when this was the first thing on a long time that made me feel alive.
I got up on weak legs and looked down at the body. "You came into the wrong house" I said with a big sigh and took a grip around his leg.
I shoved the body into my old wardrobe and smirked.
As I stood there looking at the bloody floor I wondered who would by my next victim. Or how I could make the killing even more exciting.
I closed the door into the bedroom and rested my head on my shoulder. Suddenly I got an idea and ran across the dark hall and almost slipped in the blood. I accidently ran into the table and all the ashes blew up in air to slowly fall down on the floor.
I whined inside and kept searching for a paper I could write on. Not a single paper.
I growled and took a black pencil. "Doesn't matter! I'll just use the damn table".
I sat down and brushed of some more dust and ashes from the table. I started to write down names on the table. "Jennifer Thell, Jonas Bill, Carla Anderson.. " I repeated all the names out loud and the list got bigger and bigger. The whole table was filled with names, mostly women.