Stockholm: Agent of Chaos
Day 2
"Do you know why I picked you?" my following day began. The sound of his voice awakened my frail sleep.
I yawned. "Because I'm the mayor's daughter?"
"Good job!" he responded in a condescending manner, as if talking to a dumb animal. He paced slowly around me. The lights were brighter than I remember them being from the day before. This time, I could see some objects that shared the room with me. A big couch sat a few feet ahead, what appeared to be a compact refrigerator lay a couple yards to my left, possibly a door just footsteps away to my right.
He eventually took a seat on the old and dirty sofa. The light, or lack thereof, cast a dreadful shadow across his face. He stared at me for some time until he began. "There was..." he paused. "There was one man that I killed." For the next seconds, a cold seemed to swoop in and swallow the air. "He... was a coward." I heard him gulp. "I had been following him for the past few days before I actually took him and his family. And... And during those few days, I found out a couple secrets of his. He was a family man. Seemed to love his wife and son. Yet, before going home every night, he stopped at his lady friend's home. She..." he laughed. "She was a beauty if I never seen one before. Short, blonde hair. Round, icy blue eyes. A waist as thin as a carrot with ass and tits like melons." He moved his hair out of his face. "I never touched her but I could tell that she was soft. Now, his wife. Oh, his wife. She wasn't unattractive, per say, but she wasn't a super model either. But one thing she had that this other woman, this home wrecker whore, didn't have was love. I knew that she loved her husband. That woman on the side didn't love him the way she did. She only loved his money, the thrill of it all. But she didn't love him." He flew into a coughing fit for a few minutes.
"Excuse me," he said after he finished. "So I felt kind of bad for the wife, you know? She deserved to know that her love was being wasted on this asshole who didn't appreciate her. Do you want to know what I did?"
"What?" I asked.
"When I took him, I took his wife and child too. This wasn't in the original plan, but you can't always follow the guidelines. So I took them all and when they all awake I'm holding a knife to the bastard's throat. I say," he laughed for a good while. "I say, 'Tell your wife'. He asks me what I mean and I tell him again to tell her about his other life he leads. He plays dumb until I grab his son's head and hold the blade to his neck."
"How old is the boy?" I interrupted, but he didn't seem to mind.
He made a face as if he was thinking hard. "Ten. Eleven, maybe." I nodded and he continued. "So his wife is crying and trying to scream but I gagged her mouth for a reason. Women never seem to shut the fuck up, you know?" He giggled, "No offense. Anyway, he goes, 'I've been blowing all of our money at the casinos. I have a gambling problem.' To this day, I don't know if that was the truth or a lie but during that week that I watched his every move, and not once did he step foot in a goddamn casino." He paused and tapped his foot on the ground. "There's nothing more I hate than a criminal that makes empty threats. So when I held this knife to the boy's neck, I meant, 'If you don't tell your wife you've been cheating on her with a bimbo, I'm killing your child.' The man didn't grasp that, I suppose, so unfortunately, I had to kill his boy." He threw his hands in the air. "My! Did that cause a ruckus! Well, to make a long story short, he never admitted to it. Had to kill him."
"What happened to the wife?"
"Oh yeah, had to kill her too. Take her out of her misery, you know?"
"You didn't have to do anything. You didn't have to kill anyone."
He bent up his brow. "Excuse me?"
"You didn't have to kill any of those people."
He stood and walked over to me and grabbed a handful of my hair. "You don't know anything."
"Please," I begged.
"Shut up," he growled and yanked my hair back.
Tears began to run down my face and my eyes pleaded for him to spare me. A headache shot through my skull due to the the immense grip he had on me. He tightened his fist and I yelped in pain. "Please," I cried again. He then used his free hand to squeeze my face. I felt my teeth digging into the flesh on the inside of my cheek; the taste of copper tickled my tongue.
He whispered, "Oh, the things you don't know."
Again, a soft kiss was planted on my forehead.
"Why haven't you killed me yet?" I asked through weeping eyes. "Why haven't you killed me?!" I kicked and screamed.
He released his hold on me and walked away laughing uncontrollably.
I yawned. "Because I'm the mayor's daughter?"
"Good job!" he responded in a condescending manner, as if talking to a dumb animal. He paced slowly around me. The lights were brighter than I remember them being from the day before. This time, I could see some objects that shared the room with me. A big couch sat a few feet ahead, what appeared to be a compact refrigerator lay a couple yards to my left, possibly a door just footsteps away to my right.
He eventually took a seat on the old and dirty sofa. The light, or lack thereof, cast a dreadful shadow across his face. He stared at me for some time until he began. "There was..." he paused. "There was one man that I killed." For the next seconds, a cold seemed to swoop in and swallow the air. "He... was a coward." I heard him gulp. "I had been following him for the past few days before I actually took him and his family. And... And during those few days, I found out a couple secrets of his. He was a family man. Seemed to love his wife and son. Yet, before going home every night, he stopped at his lady friend's home. She..." he laughed. "She was a beauty if I never seen one before. Short, blonde hair. Round, icy blue eyes. A waist as thin as a carrot with ass and tits like melons." He moved his hair out of his face. "I never touched her but I could tell that she was soft. Now, his wife. Oh, his wife. She wasn't unattractive, per say, but she wasn't a super model either. But one thing she had that this other woman, this home wrecker whore, didn't have was love. I knew that she loved her husband. That woman on the side didn't love him the way she did. She only loved his money, the thrill of it all. But she didn't love him." He flew into a coughing fit for a few minutes.
"Excuse me," he said after he finished. "So I felt kind of bad for the wife, you know? She deserved to know that her love was being wasted on this asshole who didn't appreciate her. Do you want to know what I did?"
"What?" I asked.
"When I took him, I took his wife and child too. This wasn't in the original plan, but you can't always follow the guidelines. So I took them all and when they all awake I'm holding a knife to the bastard's throat. I say," he laughed for a good while. "I say, 'Tell your wife'. He asks me what I mean and I tell him again to tell her about his other life he leads. He plays dumb until I grab his son's head and hold the blade to his neck."
"How old is the boy?" I interrupted, but he didn't seem to mind.
He made a face as if he was thinking hard. "Ten. Eleven, maybe." I nodded and he continued. "So his wife is crying and trying to scream but I gagged her mouth for a reason. Women never seem to shut the fuck up, you know?" He giggled, "No offense. Anyway, he goes, 'I've been blowing all of our money at the casinos. I have a gambling problem.' To this day, I don't know if that was the truth or a lie but during that week that I watched his every move, and not once did he step foot in a goddamn casino." He paused and tapped his foot on the ground. "There's nothing more I hate than a criminal that makes empty threats. So when I held this knife to the boy's neck, I meant, 'If you don't tell your wife you've been cheating on her with a bimbo, I'm killing your child.' The man didn't grasp that, I suppose, so unfortunately, I had to kill his boy." He threw his hands in the air. "My! Did that cause a ruckus! Well, to make a long story short, he never admitted to it. Had to kill him."
"What happened to the wife?"
"Oh yeah, had to kill her too. Take her out of her misery, you know?"
"You didn't have to do anything. You didn't have to kill anyone."
He bent up his brow. "Excuse me?"
"You didn't have to kill any of those people."
He stood and walked over to me and grabbed a handful of my hair. "You don't know anything."
"Please," I begged.
"Shut up," he growled and yanked my hair back.
Tears began to run down my face and my eyes pleaded for him to spare me. A headache shot through my skull due to the the immense grip he had on me. He tightened his fist and I yelped in pain. "Please," I cried again. He then used his free hand to squeeze my face. I felt my teeth digging into the flesh on the inside of my cheek; the taste of copper tickled my tongue.
He whispered, "Oh, the things you don't know."
Again, a soft kiss was planted on my forehead.
"Why haven't you killed me yet?" I asked through weeping eyes. "Why haven't you killed me?!" I kicked and screamed.
He released his hold on me and walked away laughing uncontrollably.