Fear Itself

I watched him, blonde and blue eyed, the spitting image of all American teenage perfection. The girls swooned over him, the boys were jealous, and I, well, I watched.

I did that a lot. I watched, observed, and remembered everything I saw, marking it down for future reference, and believe me when I say, it is useful in every single case. Their little habits, frequent hang out spots always came in handy. I learned every little thing about a certain person, my next target, my prey, so I knew exactly how to knock them down, where, and when.

My eyes flickered around the room below me. I was standing on the balcony, staring down at the same old dull high school party, dressed to kill. Blood red lipstick, long black hair, and an intense blue eyed stare I used to capture that boys I would take away from the world.

Nobody would suspect me. I mean, they never had and the killings had been going on for months. Four high school boys dead, a few college boys and even a couple girls, but everyone turned a blind eye, and that was perfect for me.

I descended down the stairs, hips swaying, looking around at everyone with a smirk on my lips, and I walked right up to him, a perfect smile painted on my face. His friend's turned, looking at me in confusion, but he looked at me with a glimmer in his eyes that I'd seen many, many times.

"Hey..." He said, putting down his beer with a smug look on his face.

"Could we go somewhere and talk?" I asked, pursing my lips and raising one eyebrow, and I saw his eyes widen.

"Yeah, yeah... I'd love that." He said, smirking, sliding his arm around my waist as I led him up the stairs and into the spare bedroom. With boys like this, it didn't take must convincing.

I'd wager if anyone knew what I'd done, they'd ask me why. I mean, that is the general question they ask when you when you go on a killing spree, but honestly, I didn't know if I had an answer. Did I have a motive, or was I just a sick fuck?

There really wasn't some sort of underlying reason for my insanity. I didn't grow up in a bad home, and I wasn't sexually molested when I was young. I had no real reason for the way I was, the things I did. I had no reason to be completely bat shit crazy as I was, but I think, something just snapped in me one day. One day, I just started hearing things, loud screams and orders echoing in my own head, and soon enough, I duplicated the screams with my victims.

I guess, I have some reasoning, though. The main one being my pure hatred for the human race. It's basically in our instinct to hate each other, and hurt each other to prove who is the more dominant one in every possible situation. As people, we all think we're superior, we all think we deserve the best, when we don't. We don't deserve anything at all.

There is simply nothing that brings out the best in people, for there is no best. Every personality trait, motive and action can be justified in a negative way. Every emotion and situation brings out the worst in people.

For example, fear. I'd like to think that fear would bring people together, unite them in their mutual terror and they find a way to conquer it together, but sadly, that is not the case. It never has been. Since people started walking the Earth, they've used fear against each other, shut everyone out because of it and became selfish, hiding away for themselves, with no regard to fellow man. Fear truly brings out the worst of people, and not many people have been around to truly witness such destruction.

I, on the other hand, have.

The spare bedroom was dark, and cold, and once we were inside, I shut the door. I could hear him breathing, a sweet gentle sound that made my ears hurt. I excitedly pressed him against the wall, smothering his lips with mine heatedly, as he tangled his fingers in my hair.

I played with him a bit, biting down gently on his lip and raking my nails up and down his back. I let his hands leave my hair and explore my body. I must admit, I got a bit of a kick when I saw how excited they got, just before I took out the gleaming knife from my pocket I used to cut through them as if they were butter. I see their excitement turn to fear, and then I watch all light leave their eyes...

Someday, people are going to recognize me. They'll call me things like psycho, cold hearted and crazy, and hell, they're right in every sense of the words, but for now, I'm going to have as much fun as I ever intended to.

I pulled away from the kiss, devilish smirk on my face, and he tilted his head in confusion. I slid the knife from my pocket, and without a second look, slid it into his chest. He let out nothing more than a whimper before falling to the ground. I wrenched the weapon from his body, sliding it back into my pocket. Proper disposal of it would be dealt with later. I saw him on the ground, the deep red liquid oozing from his stupid name brand clothes, and I smiled. A genuine true smile of happiness.

They say that there's nothing to fear but fear itself. Then, I suppose, that's exactly what I am.

Fear itself.