A Story Of A Teenage Killer
Part One : The Normal Killer
Part One: The Normal Killer.
A shed of light shines from the crack in the curtains, the light able to reach the victims foot as he lies on the floor, struggling to get out of the ropes he is tied in. I crack a smile, how funny this man looks when he struggles for his insignificant life. I happily walk to the curtains, spreading them with both arms. A window starting at my feet, going to taller than me, a high up apartment staring at a building from across the street but no windows to stare back. Luckily, with no windows I won’t be caught for what I am about to do. Walking to my little “playmate” I grab him by the ropes that have him tied up. “Get up, buddy-boy!” I say in my little happy voice as I raise the victim to his feet. His eyes are terrified; he is panicking under the gag on his mouth.
I let him stare at me, as I walk to the window. Staring down to the streets below, how many “innocent” people walk. So many people, so many people that I could just kill one day. Looking towards the clock, 11:30 p.m. About a half hour before I need to get to school, I guess I shouldn’t waste any more time on him. Grabbing the ropes that he is tied up in, and forcing him in front of the window. My smile, apparently scaring him even more as he can’t move even to shake. “You ready, buddy-boy?” I whisper to him, giving a small laugh.
Slowly removing from my pocket, I pull out a knife. To my mouth, I lick the blade while tears run down his face. A high and powerful man in the business world, acting all emotionless there, like nothing will affect him. But in the face of Death, in the face of what really is the “real” world. Any and even all men will break. Nothing could prepare you, unless experience. It just makes my blood tingle while thinking about all this. Oops, thinking too much. With the knife, I cut the ropes releasing his arms and I rip the gag straight off his face. I’m giving him a chance to fight back, to even make a run for it. But with his fear, the exact feeling he has. He cannot move, even his thinking has probably been scattered into so many things.
In a mere second, my hand swings forward. The knife stabbing into the left side of his stomach and quickly the knife pulls back. His hands, in reaction, grab at the spot that had been stabbed and starts trying to stop the blood from flowing out. His face staring at me, eyes with such a scared look, tears overflowing so much. Like I said, any man can break. The tiniest or even the strongest, right down to the bones, to the organs we are all human. Tiny, puny, weak, and insignificant humans, even I am in that category.
As his face looks at me, I throw a punch at him he falls to the floor and blood leaks from his mouth. I grab his arm and roughly pull him up; as he gets onto his feet I punch him again but with my hand keeping him up. Five more times I stab into him, blood leaking from the wounds. He staggers backwards, his back to the window. My smile remaining on my face, happiness from the blood leaking from his body, his eyes closed shut yet still crying. I turn my back to him, and begin to walk away.
“Why? You bastard! Why?!” he tries to yell towards me. My smiles fades, I greatly scowl. I wonder, and question “Bastard?”
I swing around looking towards him, raising my leg and with great force kicking him back. The window cracks, I kick again and the window breaks. He falls through, and down. I walk forward to the edge and look down. About 13 floors down, on the solid concrete lays the body of the now dead man. From so far up, hard to tell how his body looks. I give up trying to see, since I have to get to school. I turn around, and continue walking like earlier. “He could have lived if he didn’t call me a damn bastard.” I mutter to myself as I walk out the apartment door. I walk down the stairwells, to the main floor and walk out the door. I walk away as people panic around, while the police are driving and quickly on their way. With all the panic, and the crowding around no one would notice an uncaring teenager walking through. With a bloody knife still pulled out, so no need to make sure that no one will witness it. I pull a napkin from my jeans pocket, wiping the blood off so it’s clean for the next time it’s needed.
As I finish cleaning, I toss the napkin by a passing trashcan. And begin my walk to school, for my last period would be soon. Luckily my 3rd period allows us to go into city to do work around, and I am always the first to finish. Giving me all the time I need, to do my more important work. I walk to a bus stop, as the bus stops. Looking back to the direction of where the body is, then looking back forward with a smile I walk onto the bus.
After about 7 minutes on the bus ride to the bus stop that is right out front my high school. I arrive with about 4 more minutes until I’m late. Though it does not matter, they allow me to be late for how much superior knowledge I have that the rest of the class does not.
I walk outside the bus, as I step out the sun shining brightly blinds me. I move a hand up to block the sun, as I look up at my high school as two people run down.
To be continued in Part 2.
A shed of light shines from the crack in the curtains, the light able to reach the victims foot as he lies on the floor, struggling to get out of the ropes he is tied in. I crack a smile, how funny this man looks when he struggles for his insignificant life. I happily walk to the curtains, spreading them with both arms. A window starting at my feet, going to taller than me, a high up apartment staring at a building from across the street but no windows to stare back. Luckily, with no windows I won’t be caught for what I am about to do. Walking to my little “playmate” I grab him by the ropes that have him tied up. “Get up, buddy-boy!” I say in my little happy voice as I raise the victim to his feet. His eyes are terrified; he is panicking under the gag on his mouth.
I let him stare at me, as I walk to the window. Staring down to the streets below, how many “innocent” people walk. So many people, so many people that I could just kill one day. Looking towards the clock, 11:30 p.m. About a half hour before I need to get to school, I guess I shouldn’t waste any more time on him. Grabbing the ropes that he is tied up in, and forcing him in front of the window. My smile, apparently scaring him even more as he can’t move even to shake. “You ready, buddy-boy?” I whisper to him, giving a small laugh.
Slowly removing from my pocket, I pull out a knife. To my mouth, I lick the blade while tears run down his face. A high and powerful man in the business world, acting all emotionless there, like nothing will affect him. But in the face of Death, in the face of what really is the “real” world. Any and even all men will break. Nothing could prepare you, unless experience. It just makes my blood tingle while thinking about all this. Oops, thinking too much. With the knife, I cut the ropes releasing his arms and I rip the gag straight off his face. I’m giving him a chance to fight back, to even make a run for it. But with his fear, the exact feeling he has. He cannot move, even his thinking has probably been scattered into so many things.
In a mere second, my hand swings forward. The knife stabbing into the left side of his stomach and quickly the knife pulls back. His hands, in reaction, grab at the spot that had been stabbed and starts trying to stop the blood from flowing out. His face staring at me, eyes with such a scared look, tears overflowing so much. Like I said, any man can break. The tiniest or even the strongest, right down to the bones, to the organs we are all human. Tiny, puny, weak, and insignificant humans, even I am in that category.
As his face looks at me, I throw a punch at him he falls to the floor and blood leaks from his mouth. I grab his arm and roughly pull him up; as he gets onto his feet I punch him again but with my hand keeping him up. Five more times I stab into him, blood leaking from the wounds. He staggers backwards, his back to the window. My smile remaining on my face, happiness from the blood leaking from his body, his eyes closed shut yet still crying. I turn my back to him, and begin to walk away.
“Why? You bastard! Why?!” he tries to yell towards me. My smiles fades, I greatly scowl. I wonder, and question “Bastard?”
I swing around looking towards him, raising my leg and with great force kicking him back. The window cracks, I kick again and the window breaks. He falls through, and down. I walk forward to the edge and look down. About 13 floors down, on the solid concrete lays the body of the now dead man. From so far up, hard to tell how his body looks. I give up trying to see, since I have to get to school. I turn around, and continue walking like earlier. “He could have lived if he didn’t call me a damn bastard.” I mutter to myself as I walk out the apartment door. I walk down the stairwells, to the main floor and walk out the door. I walk away as people panic around, while the police are driving and quickly on their way. With all the panic, and the crowding around no one would notice an uncaring teenager walking through. With a bloody knife still pulled out, so no need to make sure that no one will witness it. I pull a napkin from my jeans pocket, wiping the blood off so it’s clean for the next time it’s needed.
As I finish cleaning, I toss the napkin by a passing trashcan. And begin my walk to school, for my last period would be soon. Luckily my 3rd period allows us to go into city to do work around, and I am always the first to finish. Giving me all the time I need, to do my more important work. I walk to a bus stop, as the bus stops. Looking back to the direction of where the body is, then looking back forward with a smile I walk onto the bus.
After about 7 minutes on the bus ride to the bus stop that is right out front my high school. I arrive with about 4 more minutes until I’m late. Though it does not matter, they allow me to be late for how much superior knowledge I have that the rest of the class does not.
I walk outside the bus, as I step out the sun shining brightly blinds me. I move a hand up to block the sun, as I look up at my high school as two people run down.
To be continued in Part 2.