Cereal(Serial) Killer

Serial (Cereal) Killer

He didn't look dead enough, so I stabbed him three more times. The ridiculously sharp twelve-inch blade slid easily into his muscled chest. My wrist began to hurt, and I finally stood and peered down at the pathetic piece of shit, then wiped the bloody blade on the sleeve of my black sweater. I wanted to spit on him so bad, but I didn't. He wasn't worth my spit. I stepped lightly over the lifeless body on the dirty kitchen floor and made my way out the back door.

"Pathetic piece of shit," I said over my shoulder...

KENNY

Damn, it was beautiful outside. The breeze was blowing just right, the sun felt good on his face. Kenny was the happiest he'd been in a while. He walked lazily to the corner store. There was no rush, he wanted to enjoy every step.

"Wassup Wally," he greeted the store owner as he picked up the day's paper. The headline displayed "Another Dead In DownTown." His left eyebrow raised, and he whistled as he read. They found Nathan Wetmore dead that morning in his home at 1207 Park Ave. Authorities had no clues and anyone with information should call the tip line number provided at the bottom.

Kenny sighed and shook his head then bought the paper along with a pack of Newport short cigarettes.

"Damn shame what happened to that poor man," Wally commented.

"Yeah, damn shame." Kenny Chuckled before exiting the store.

TIFFANY AND COMPANY

Tiffany woke up to her two youngest girls arguing again. The morning sun peeked through the window and she was nowhere near ready for that yet, which had already put her in a bad mood.

"Shut the fuck up!" she yelled.

They didn't hear her and began to wake up the entire house. She jumped up and ran down the hall in just a t-shirt and panties, not bothering to put on her robe, determined to whoop some ass that morning. The girls, six-year-old Tia, and eight-year-old Mya were going back and forth about who should get the toy from the cereal box.

"Gimmee the damn toy!" screamed Mya.

"No, you got it last time Mya!" Screamed Tia. "That's not fair!"

Mya was about to hit Tia when Tiffany walked in. They froze in their tracks like they were playing freeze tag when their mother walked in the kitchen. She immediately smacked both of them at the same time and snatched the toy from Mya.

"Go get yo' ass dressed for school!" She commanded.

The girls ran out of the kitchen holding their faces and crying hysterically as if lightning had struck them both. Tiffany threw the toy in the trash and made her way to the living room where her 16-year-old son Corey was watching the morning news and playing with his phone.

"Why didn't you go In there and handle your sisters?" She asked attempting to turn her anger on him. He grinned without looking up from his game and nodded at the television.

"Because I was watching this," he answered.

It was a news correspondent reporting on the death of Nathan Wetmore. Her eyes got big as dinner plates and a wicked smile slowly spread across her face.

"I guess he a REAL dead beat now!" She cackled while strutting back to her bedroom.

JULIAN AND STICKY

"It's all about the Benjamins, baby!!!"

Julian and Sticky rode with the music blasting all the time. The hood was their stage, and they were superstars. Julian was the local weed man, supplying half the city with his exotic bud. Sticky sold everything else in the neighborhood. The duo whipped around in Julian's blue Range Rover all day dropping off this and picking up that. They made their way down Park Ave and noticed the yellow tape across the door of Nate's house.