Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge

All of my other murders were pretty easy after that. Satan had decided to keep me in the same area for now although I desperately wanted to go see Helena while she was nearby. Some of the jackoffs that I had to kill were pretty sick.

There was this one guy, Carter something, who would rape women and leave them close to their deaths after beating them. This guy got to about twenty women, including a few underage girls, before I got to him. I slit his throat clean through.

The next guy was similar only he raped little boys and girls... and then he murdered them. If there was one thing I hated more than the mistreatment of women, it was the mistreatment of children. That dick was so weak though. That's why he chose kids, because he wouldn't stand a chance against an adult fighting back. I beat the shit out of that pervert and literally stamped his brains all over the floor.

This other guy... ugh. Vampires are cool, I'm down with them... but CANNIBALS? No. This guy ate people for no reason except that he liked the meat and didn't want to eat animals. Animals with fur that is. That asshole even tried to take a bite out of me! Since he went all Hannibal Lector on me, I went Silence of the Lambs on him. I managed to get a noose around his neck on his attack and that noose was tied to the balcony of his home. I shoved him off and watched his blood splatter the ground and his body fall. It's not my fault his neck was like a stick. Even I thought he would just choke. I Hadn't expected his head and body to separate like they did.

Even though I was directly working for he Devil, I knew that I was helping the world by disposing of these people in what appeared to be cold blood. Things were so much better without them though. And now, I suppose it's time for me to admit, Satan really knew who should die. I suppose it's because he made them that way, though I didn't understand why he made them that way if he planned for them to be brutally murdered? Ah well, it didn't really matter.

Seeing as I was alive again, I nose needed money for food and clothes and of course, weapons, seeing as all my shit was down in Louisiana or somewhere in police custody. My victims took care of my essentials though, seeing as they had money. I was glad to be rid of my suit that was now covered in so much blood it was stiffening.

After I left that one loser swinging, I went out to the store wearing a large borrowed coat to cover up the blood. I bought some nice black jeans, some boxers, new black sneakers, and a lovely black Nirvana t-shirt at a local Walmart. I then went back to Mr. Insane Cannibal's house, showered, and finally got into my clean clothes though I did wash my suit while there.

Killing was easy. Killing was fun. Easy peasy pumpkin peasy, mother fucker. That was until about my 50th kill which was a new type and not the same old bullshit that I had been getting.

You see, there was this woman of about forty who had poisoned her husband with arsenic and he was in the hospital, dying. The real kicker is that she was doing it for her husband's money. This reminded me to the extreme of Mrs. Kill-All-Gerard's-Real-Family-And-Pretend-To-Be-His-Mother-And-Then-Leave-Him-All-By-Himself-While-He's-Dying. This only made me angrier as I slipped stealthily into her house after picking the lock on her back door. Quietly, I stole through her house and up to her bedroom.

There she lay, all bundled up in her covers, snoozing away. She was bigger than me, I could tell. That didn't matter though. She'd be dead before she even knew I was there. I crept carefully towards her bed, my brand new machete clutched in my hand. Before I realized it had happened though, I made the biggest mistake of my life.

Well, second life.

I bumped right into that woman's vanity table where all her makeup was. Luckily, nothing fell. Big fuckin' deal, right? Nothing fell so it's all good, that's what you're thinking isn't it? Don't deny it. Well here's what went down...

Running into that damn table nearly gave me a fucking heart attack and I swung my arm around which hit this bag full of makeup sending it and the shit inside it flying through the air. Of course this made an orchestra of various noises and that bitch jolted upright in her bed.

Her head snapped around and when she saw me, she screamed. "Who are you?!" I stood frozen, staring wide-eyed towards her in the dim lighting. "Who ARE YOU?!"

"No need to make me deaf, lady," I replied, regaining my composure and straightening up. "The name's Gerard. Nice to meet you."

"Gerard?" There was a hint of shock in her voice. "Why are you here?"

"What's it look like?" I asked, flashing the knife I held in the moonlight that was streaming through the curtains.

"I thought I told you that I never wanted to see you ever again," the woman said, her voice coming out stronger than before.

I frowned. "What? I don't know you, Mrs. Emily Wolff."

"Gerard... Honey, I changed my name," she sighed, sounding exasperated. "Emily WAY ring a bell?"

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, NO. Fuck. "Not you," I muttered.

"Yes me, honey," my fake mother, the one who had killed my real mother and father replied, amusement in her voice.

Slowly, I began to advance towards her, my knife raised above my head. I had to do this. I had to.

"Now, now, Gee," Emily said, her voice hinting at being scared, but mostly it was strong. I didn't stop though. When I didn't stop, she scurried back against her head board. I could see her eyes now, wide as they stared at me in shock. "Get away from me!"

"Fuck you, Mama. I'm here for the revenge I deserve!" I was yelling. Before she could do anything, I lunged at her.

Let's pause for a second.

Now you would think that I had the upper hand here seeing as I'm younger and have more upper body strength and she's old and I'm the one with the knife, but damn that woman could fight which shocked the hell out of me. When I tried to paint her red, she grabbed my wrist in midair and stopped me. It was ridiculous really.

I fought that deceiving wretch for what seemed like eternity. I was surprised that she put up such a good fight. Maybe she had a slight advantage by being a little bit bigger and being an expert at rolling around with guys on beds. I'm pretty sure I wanted her dead more than she wanted me dead, though I'm not very sure. Don't ask me to fathom the ways of a deceiving woman thinks.

"Fuck!" I yelled as the knife dug into my arm. I had been on top of her, trying to stab her, but she had somehow managed to drive the knife into my shoulder which was now gushing blood everywhere. This pissed me off even more.

Soon we were all caught up in the sheets and the blood. Finally, I got her. I stabbed that bitch right in the heart. I actually laughed as blood came out of her mouth. However, it reminded me of the first time that I had died. I didn't have time for that nostalgia shit though. I had other people to kill.

I grinned as I stared at her corpse, but my grin quickly vanished when I saw all the blood. I was covered in it, she was covered in it, the bed was covered in it, the floor had some on it. Some of that blood was mine. Now you must understand that while I'm no forensic scientist, I was fairly certain they could use the blood and find out it was me. They would find out that a guy who was supposed to dead was the one who killed her.

Before I could bleed anywhere else, I ripped off a part of her nightgown and shoved the cloth into the hole in my shoulder. I then took a bandanna I had around my wrist and wrapped it under my armpit and over my wound as a cheap tourniquet.

I wasn't going to wash this lady's sheets or anything, but I had to get rid of that blood. Well, you now, being the clever genius that I am, I decided to bleach the sheets and her nightgown. If it didn't get rid of the red, it would at least get rid of the DNA evidence. I went downstairs and found the laundry room rather quickly. I grabbed a bottle of bleach and some thick rubber gloves and sped back to Mrs. Wolff's bedroom.

After I pushed that bitch off the bed, I poured some bleach on her, kind of wishing that she was still alive so she could feel the burn. When I had poured the remaining bleach on the bed and pulled on the rubber gloves, only then did I begin to rub it around. That shit smelled horrible, not worse than rotting flesh of course, but still mother fucking gross. I began to think I'd have no brain cells left because of this shit. The worst part of it all is that that shit didn't do anything but spread the blood around.

"Why the fuck won't this work?!" I groaned, feeling dumb.

That feeling vanished quickly though when I head a sound that flooded me with anger and terror. It wasn't very loud because it was still pretty far away, but it was getting closer.

"FUCK!" I shouted angrily, ripping the gloves off and throwing them on the corpse that was now bubbling in places from the bleach.

Frantically I ran back down the stairs, hoping to get out before they got in. The first place I checked was the back door in which I had come in through. By the time I got there though, flashing lights and blaring sirens were in the alley. Quickly, I locked the back door and sped off to the front door, desperately hoping that there would be no cops there even though I knew that the odds of that were pretty much, well, impossible at this point. By the time I got to the front, police were knocking on the door. I glanced out of the window and saw a ton of cops and neighbors standing outside in the yard. Christ, wasn't this supposedly just a robbery or something? The bitch had an alarm system, a self push alarm. I had pushed her corpse right onto that little button accidentally, but I didn't know what it was at the time.

Quickly, I ran back towards the back of the house and into a random room. Turns out it was a bathroom, a bathroom with a pretty small window in which I might be able to squeeze through and escape. Carefully, as not to attract attention, I opened the window, put my legs through and began to lower myself out awkwardly. When I was fully out, I landed on the ground in a crouching position. But when I stood up, it was to be met with guns pointing directly at my blood splattered face. The police were still pretty far away though.

"Drop the knife and put your hands behind your head! Get down on the ground!" One of the officer's screamed.

Slowly, I pretended to do what he had ordered me to do. I dropped my bloody knife and raised my arms high and began to get down, but suddenly, I shot up and ran straight for the woods that were off to my right.

Stray bullets flew past me as I ran for my life. I was about a foot away from those god damn trees and potential safety when I felt at least five bullets find their way into my back, some of them exiting through my chest and stomach. I stumbled, but I kept going. I had to. I had to keep going. I had to live. What if Satan didn't give me another chance? I was going on pure adrenaline. Behind me, more shots rang out. Some flew past me, but two more drove into my back as I passed the first few trees of the forest and fell on my face.

"NO," I choked and tried to life myself up. "I can't..." Blood was flowing from my mouth... Again. "I Can't go back there. No... Can't... Go... Ba--"

And with that, I died for a second time.