Thrill

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Thrill. That’s why I do it, for the thrill. You can experience nothing more delightful than the enchanting end of another. I have been in here, in this cell for seven years now, almost eight. I count each day by carving marks into the wall. I have no more senses, feelings, nothing of the sorts. I crawl down here in the dark, the deepest pits with vermin all around me. Fools they are, those vermin, they know nothing of the thrill. They are down here because revenge soiled their hearts, alcohol and drugs deceived them. I? Not I, no oh no not I. I am here because of the thrill, because I seek that ecstasy that comes with Death. I am here because I found that thrill, the screams, pleads, oh and oh how I absolutely love the cries. They carve into the tomb of my mind, they are my masterpieces. I can hear them, over and over again. You might call me a murderer, a murderer? Me? Never! To call me a murderer would bring you the worst of luck, oh the very very worst.
Ah, but enough of that, my daily supper has arrived. By the looks of it, we shall all be having slops again. The man who delivers our food always has this air about him, like he’s much better than we are. Better, than those vermin and I! Ha! Oh what a laughable affair. I already know what will happen to him. Yes, I know. Those eyes of his will go first. I hate those eyes, how they graze over mine and seem to yell at me, scream at me. Despicable. While I am busy doing so, what else shall I do? Oh sometimes I do wish someone would give me suggestions, but that takes away my imagination. Never mind that, I can already picture it. Oh how he will beg and apologize, plead for me to let him go with scarlet tears running like rivers down his fat face. Let him go, oh how foolish humans can be. Now don’t get me wrong, I am a “human” like all of you but on a much different level. You humans find joy in happy times, sweets, family, and love. I no longer find joy in those, what fun does love bring you? None, no fun at all. Oh, love, what a repulsively silly word. I much prefer the word dead; after all they’re both four letters. Dead, that’s a good one, good one! Ah, you out do yourself Lucian. It’s a wonder why they would ever put you down here, Lucian you ingenious mastermind.
Wait, what’s going on? A new face has arrived. I can see him, his velvet suit looks like it’s a purple or maybe a black. Who really knows down here in the shadows. A sound, lots of sounds. Ah it’s those vermin, stupid vermin! They’re calling to him, crying to help them. I don’t pity them, those fools. Heh, he’s in front of my cell, me, “Lucian the Serial Killer”, Lucian the Great. I can see him a little better now, that old fool. His eyes are not like those of the fat food waiter, no his are different. I can see the glimmer in his eyes, they are smiling at me. Me, smiling. Ha, what a fool, what an enjoyable fool! I laugh, I’m laughing at the top of my dusty lungs and the prison goes silent. I should have laughed a long time ago. The man presses his face between the bars, his tightly pressed lips strain to open and he whispers “Are you Lucian?” in a voice barely audible, I would have thought I heard the wind if my ears hadn’t been trained.
Am I Lucian? Wonderful, wonderful! I have met a delightful toy! I eagerly nod, my bones gnashing against each other, rusty from my extinct movements. A smile, I can see a smile. This old man has smiled despite knowing my past, my deeds, and my accomplishments. Peculiar, how peculiar! I can still see him, his excited gestures and rapid lip movements had me plotting. Should I see the end of this man, should he be gone? Oh drat, while thinking he has already stopped talking. I can hear another man coming down the stairs, and ahh. He’s carrying keys. They are a delicious sound, the clanking of keys, the symphony of freedom. I can already hear the orchestra playing; I can already taste the crimson on my skin. He’s unlocking my door. What? Yes! My door, my door! Oh it’s been a long time since I have felt this giddiness, the thrill, I must find the thrill! It’s open. My door, that rusty barred door is open.
“I have a job for you.” The man murmured. A job, for me? I can hear him licking his lips and opens his mouth. Then closes it, then opens it again. He tilts his head pausing to think for a moment, and then asks me, “Will you do a job? For me?”
I ponder for a few moments. This old man was standing in the doorway, guards flanked behind him and it was the only way out. I have tried digging, plotting with the vermin, but only through that door will I find thrill. On the other hand, I could just kill this man and be done with him. No Lucian, that’s not thrilling. I have to find the thrill. Fine then, this man will help me. I nod in response.
“Good, very good,” he smirks and takes a step closer to me. The prison ripples with tension, the guards in the back only cough and hush chokes. How noisome, these people are so very noisome. After the prison was choked with silence again, the old man bent even lower to whisper into my ear. His spoke so hushed; I could only grasp a few words. But afterwards I understood everything, this man was the devil. A cunning and respectable devil. It made me crack my lips open in a crooked grin.
Its night time, I cannot believe I have lived to see the night. When I stepped out into the sun, the light stabbed my eyes and I became blind for the majority of the day. Even now my eyes still hurt but I must continue. After this job is everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m behind a house, it’s a large house and exactly like Victor had described. Victor, the old devil, has provided me with everything I need to know. As I tip-toe across the lawn, my senses are re-awakened. I can remember everything, how I would go into the room, playing out how everything will go, embracing the thrill. As I reminisce, I am already at the door. I slowly extract the key Victor gave me and as I insert and turn the key, a satisfying click reaches my ear. Good one Victor, good job Lucian. I have trained myself to memorize a house as a map, a map with thrill only in certain rooms. Quickly now, quickly! I can hear the soft snores of the man, poor poor man. To be the enemy of the devil is a bad thing to be. I slip into the room, making barely any noise. I pause, very impressive Lucian, he’s still sleeping. You still have your talent. I slowly, slightly, make my way beside the bed. No thrill tonight, Victor told me to get it over with and quickly. I stop for a moment. That Victor is a smart one, a sly devil he is. I could learn from him, I could teach him. Yes, he would be a fine fellow. No time for that now, as I approach the bed, I already have my shot ready. Just as I pulled the trigger, excitement jolting through my body, the man’s eyes tear open. In the split second I recognize him he’s already, what was that word again? Oh yes, dead, Victor is dead. Mmm, what a pity. Not much thrill tonight.





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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

MercedesXO said...
Jul. 16, 2010 at 9:09 pm

hmmm..this was very interesting. fantastic writing by the way. you have talent. i first caught name of your user name. Harry Potter. Gotta love him, then i read through your profile and was laughing. Very funny hahah. I'm a big fan too though.

So your story was interesting, I was (literally) leaning forward in my seat at the end. You use of description, and metaphors is brilliant. You have a way with words and a way of putting the reader inside of the main characters head. I really enj... (more »)

 
HarryPotter replied...
Jul. 17, 2010 at 9:14 am

I'm glad to find another Harry Potter fan! :) 

Thank you for your comment, I was definitely happy to receive it! I'm glad you enjoyed the story.

I'm an avid fiction reader and I love stories that really grip you. Harry Potter influences only my Muggle-ness! I do believe in love and true happiness, I suppose Disney has influenced me quite a lot! But from what I know and have seen, not everyone thinks the same way I do. Lucian is a much more psychotic side of me and he was fo... (more »)

 
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