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The Mind of a Murderer

My eyelids are heavy, my limbs are weak, and I’ve been laying here for hours now. Sleep comes creeping to and fro, up and down the hallway, glaring at me out of the corner of its eyes every now and again. I can hear it lingering, and I envision it as a strange black mass with blood-shot eyes agape, a mouth of sharp, long teeth wide open, arms with which to drag itself across the ground, and nothing else. It’s a strange creature because I feel a need to embrace it and rest, but at the same time I’m always wary of falling asleep in a new house. I must move often, and so I’ve seen many places in my day. Yet, this house is the strangest I have ever witnessed. It’s so old it looks crooked standing at the peak of this hill where it was planted onto the surface of the Earth so long ago. It creeks and moans constantly because even the wind shifts it, tilting its fragile frame. I don’t feel safe here within these walls, but rather trapped. This is my last resort; I’m at my whit’s end for sure this time.

But my past must remain behind me. Here I can plan ahead for the future. My profession is reliant on planning things frivolously. I must be meticulous in my efforts, I must know my adversaries, and should they shift the gears of my mischievousness, I should shift with them rather than against them. Still, an end is indubitable. One day I will fall, and my opponents will take my place. Unknown to them, their efforts to conquer my madness will only leave then stricken with utter delirium. To catch someone like me you have to become someone like me, after all.

Thump, thump, thump.

At first I can barely hear the noise below me due to the thundering rain and confusing flashes of lightening seeping in through my window and consuming my entire bedroom. I’ve been too deep in thought and haven’t noticed that the dragging sound of that creature in the hall is gone.

Thump, thump, thump.

I shiver, realizing that the noise is directly below. Could the creature finally be coming for me? Surly as I let down my guard it snuck past my vision. It’s below me, wishing to strike… As I drift to sleep, my downfall will surly be met. They’ll find me, my pursuers, and the game will be forever lost! No! Not this time! My hand quivering with fright, I lean slowly over the frame of my bed. I grip the sheets so tightly my knuckles are pale enough to glow in the darkness, and I sling the covers aside. However, as lightening crackles through the sky yet again, I see that nothing is there.

Thump, thump, thump.

My bedroom door is still hanging open on its hinges, and it’s taken me this long to see… The creature has left a thick, dark trail of a tar-like substance it its wake as it snuck down the stairs. I grin as blood makes its way down my chin. It’s a nervous habit, biting my lips raw, but it keeps me from laughing, from giving away my disposition. So the creature will play a game? Then a game we will play!

Slowly, silently, I let my feet touch the cold, wooden floor. I’m already fully dressed, just in case a situation much like this one should arise. No weapon is necessary, however, not for someone like me. As sensitive as this house is to movement, I make my way rather silently down the hall, and trickle down the stairs in the shadow of the rain dripping rapidly outside the foggy window panes. I hesitate, contemplating only for a moment. I can see in the flickering light of the storm a path that the creature has specifically left behind just for me. It disappears in front of the closet that is one story below my bedroom. Of course! This means that the wretched creature has been plotting all along… I am the one with the shorter straw now; I’m in the very same position I’ve lead so many people to before, so many victims… I can feel it now, the fear and loathing that I must assume they all must have felt just before-

Thump, thump, thump.

My breathing is strained because it feels as though my lungs are collapsing, and my heart is beating so fast that I feel I might drown in my own clammy sweat if I don’t just give this handle a twist and a swift pull! Where the creature is, I have no idea, but there are jumbled before me twelve electric chairs buzzing and whizzing to life. They mummer in the voices of those I have so viciously beaten, so savagely murdered! The last thing I remember is one last flash, a sound that must have traveled from a world outside my own, before a sudden jolt entered my brain and burned the essence of my being to a crisp.


“He screamed in terror like the hounds of hell had finally caught up to him just before he fried,” the mother of the murderer said smiling as she rocked back and forth in her chair. She sat knitting on her front porch, staring out into a clear, hot summer’s day, but no one was around to hear the joy in her crippling voice…




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