Call Me Crazy||Khalif Brown||

Chapter 1

Once it was secured she started crying again and he looked up at her, giving her a warm smile.

"I'm going to take this off." He gestured towards the tape. "If you scream I will kill y- well I'm going to do that regardless but you'll only make it worse if you scream. Understand?" She stared at him before nodding slowly. He slowly started to unwrap the tape from around her head until it fell to the floor. A whimper immediately left her mouth and he raised his eyebrows and she sniffled.

"Good." He smiled brightly. He stood up, beginning to pace.

"Now, I usually don't talk to y'all, but today's my birthday and I don't know which knife to kill you with." He said bluntly, making her eyes wide. He turned her chair until she was facing his wall of knives. Perfectly clean and sharp, waiting to be used.

"Hm...I'm thinking butcher or chef. Your thoughts?" Her eyes were searching the wall and her face was filled with even more horror. He sighed, knowing she was about to scream, and right before she did his hand covered her mouth for the second time that night. He grabbed new tape, doing the same process as earlier.

"Yeah. We'll go with chef." Blowing out another breath, he walked over to the wall, yanking it from it's place and dragging it lazily. She started sobbing and pleading again but he couldn't understand through the tape. It was starting to annoy him and it seemed to get louder with every move he made. He went behind her, grabbing a handful of her soft hair and tilted her head back. He placed the knife over her throat and with a powerful pull, her crying was cut off immediately.

Her blood flowed down her body and onto the floor and he let go of her hair.

She sat there slumped and he let the knife fall to the floor with a clatter.

He used his forearm to wipe the sweat from his forehead since his hands had blood on them, and he could feel himself calming down. Killing girls was sort of like his euphoria. The adrenaline and thrill only lasted a couple seconds but each time it sent him craving more. His hands itched for it and he couldn't go long without another kill.

Of course he spaced them out, he's not an idiot. Unlike the police who still haven't got a clue who was killing these girls. But at the same time he couldn't blame them-he was so careful.

He ran to the back room, washing off his hands in a hurry. He then went over to his scrap book. It was worn out, but still together. He yanked his pen from the counter and wrote in his neat hand writing on a fresh page.

Date- 1/28/16

Time of death- 10:46 p.m.

Name of victim- Alicia Ruffin

Cause of death- Chef 46.

He picked up the limp girls hand, forcing her bloody thumb print onto the page. He made sure it was dry, then shut his scrap book.

XXXXXX

He was scrubbing the blood off the floor, wearing a face mask to protect him from inhaling too much bleach. The water in the bucket was now red and he wet his sponge again then started scrubbing.

"Really Khalif? Another one?" That voice belonged to none other than his brother who stood at the bottom of the basement stairs.

"How long are you going to keep doing this?" Khalif continued to scrub, feeling his arms get tired.

"Go back upstairs, quil." He ordered but in a soft voice. He was already annoyed with cleaning, and his eyes were starting to burn.