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Rated: 18+ · Novel · Dark · #2047756
Step into the world of an serial killer, his fears and screams up close. Dare to step in?
Chapter 1: Intro
            You don’t know what a monster is, until you’ve met me. Anyway, thanks for taking time out of your life and getting into mines. My name is Victor Org, and I’m a serial killer. Never thought there’d be a day where I could say that proudly in good spirits. I’m 6ft4, 225lbs of muscle and weight. I really don’t know how long I’ve been having this sick urge to take a life, but it’s become an addiction for me. All those lonely nights I’ve been spending in my large house had crept up on me. No more clutching my short brown hair and screaming at night. Now for the last five years, I’ve been spending most of my nights making my kill tally grow longer and longer.
I honestly don’t remember how many people I’ve killed, but their marks are all over my body. Imagine being a stone in a grassfield without any actual aspiration in this world—you would ask what does that have anything to do with me. I would respond by telling you to imagine me as the rock, and my aspirations as the dry, muggy, grassfield. See, I see myself as an absolute opposite of who I should be. A nuisance to society—a nightmare’s worst nightmare. I try to force myself to cry sometimes but the lack of catharsis makes my eyes moistureless. I would get on my knees many nights and holler to full moons to indulge me with some form of emotion, but my requests were never answered; which is the basic reason why I don’t believe in that Motherfucker. I was never a religious man. Even though I don’t really believe in Him, I do believe in his evil counterpart—because I’m living proof that he exists on Earth. Self-centered, maybe. A far cry for help? Could be, but I’ve never wanted a single person to ever form some sort of sympathy for me… because I lack the same sort of empathy for their pain.
            This night however feels different… it was Friday night, November 21, 2014. The foggy clouds are covering the beautiful bright full moon. It’s an extremely cold night, as like many here in Chicago, Illinois.
            “Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred,” are the words said from the woman as I peak in her closed window. Her thick black hair and smooth white skin makes me believe that she’s an easy target. Her green shirt lights up the entire house along with her white khaki pants.
            “Ready or not, here I come,” she said as she starts to walk around her house.
I’m guessing that she’s not alone so I slowly creep around her big house with a kitchen knife in my hand. Her house is in one of those parts of the city that cops are far away from. You can practically go deaf from the silence here. Surrounded by trees and grass with no other houses in sight; this one of those homes for anti-social people. My adrenaline is supped up from the intense doses of cocaine and heroin I’ve injected in my veins. Calming my mind and blocking out my thoughts is the best way for me to focus. My knees slowly crouch down as I’m trying to avoid being seen through the windows. As I’m taking baby steps to the front door, my huge size fifteen black boots crunch on the inveterate smell of the fresh cut green grass on the woman’s lawn. I gently knock on the door and wait on the side of the wall, daring someone to open that door. I overhear the woman say, “Don’t worry girls, I’ll get it.”
            I hear the lock unclicking and the door creaks open and she pokes her head out of the doorway. It is a perfect time to slice the bitch’s head off but I don’t kill quickly. I like to savor my every moment. She closes the door as she feels unfazed of an unknown presence. I walk back over to the window and take a glance into the house. I see the woman, continuing to play hide and go seek as she walks up her brown wooden steps. The wood makes a creaking sound from each footstep, which makes my ears hurt. I walk back to the front door, knocking on the door once again. This time, my intentions are focused on another victim to my tally.
            I wait and the sound of footsteps chomping on the wooden stairs makes my eyes widen. Not an ounce of sweat shows on my body. Not a single hair is standing on my body. The lock unclicks and the door creaks open again. This time, the woman walks out of her door and stands on the porch with her hands on her hip, not a good thing for her.
            I quickly grab her from behind and place my hand completely over her mouth. The sexy smell of the Neutrogena Shampoo in her hair gives me a slight erection. She started screaming like a baby, which always gives me an even bigger rush. I yank her head back and my knife pierces deep in her neck and I sliced across from ear to ear. A smile crept up on her neck when I was done. My left hand, which is over her mouth, is being polished red with her blood. She’s fighting, as she is struggling to get out of my grasp. The tears started to pour down her face as it gets mixed in with her blood. I can hear her silent gargling starting to intensively increase by the seconds. She keeps pleading and pleading for her life. I couldn’t hear her; I’ll admit. Actually, I’ll take that back that was a lie. I didn’t wanna hear her.
            I slam the bitch on the ground and cover her mouth again. This time, I grab her by her fucking throat and I puncture her chest with the knife. Each time I’m stabbing her, drops of blood flies on my face and arms. Her body jerks forward from each stab. The bones are sounding like crushed apples as I’m practically feeling them crack from the knife. The life in her eyes left as fast as an airplane off the runway. Motionless and stiff she lies as the blood over her chest and face covers her like a blanket. A small streak of it starts leaking out of her open mouth as her head lies sideways on the grass. Her eyes are stiff as they are wide open. I didn’t count as I must’ve stabbed her at least fifteen times. I wipe the blood off my face and I drag the woman’s body to the side of the house. I lick my lips and her warm blood melts on the tip of my tongue, to my satisfaction.
            “Mom…mom where are you?” a voice called from inside the house.
I peak through the window and I see two girls walking towards the front door. They both look to be teenagers with their matching blue-colored short cheerleader shorts and belly shirts. So young they are, so full of life. Damn, my urge to kill this woman made me completely forgot about closing the fucking door. The girls walk out to the porch and look around. One has on blue Chuck Taylor sneakers while the other has on green sneakers.
            I couldn’t drag the body as it would alert the girls, so I just kneel on the side of the house, hoping the girls wouldn’t walk there.
            “Do you see her Suzie?” the teenager in the green sneakers asked as I can hear the nervousness in her voice. I see her fidgeting around like a nervous person that just lost their house keys.
              “Maybe she went to the store or something, Karen,” the other teenager said.
“But it’s not like Mom to just leave like that.”
              “Karen stop being so paranoid,” Suzie said as she put her hand up to her sister’s face.            “We’ll just go back inside and call her cellphone. Simple.”
They both walk back in the house and Suzie locks the door without spotting me or her dead mother. My adrenaline starts to rise even more as I thought I should’ve just killed them right then and there. My silent footsteps lead to me to the back of the house once again. I look around and I see a backdoor with a screen door in front of it. I gently place my hand on the screen door, trying to test if they’ve put the ADT alarm on.
            As the screen door is pulled open, no alarm went off which shocks me. I now open the real backdoor by just a tad, and I peak in and see the two girls walking upstairs as one had a cellphone in her hand. I walk in the house, and the white-colored refrigerator is right beside the backdoor. I’ll admit the kitchen is spacious; this family looks to have some nice times in this house. Too bad I have to break those good times up. I proceed out of the kitchen and near the steps. I hear one of the sisters talking on a phone.
            “Mom, when you get this message please call us immediately,” she said in an anxious tone as her voice cracks.
            My silent footsteps suddenly make a slight noise as a wooden step creaks, alerting the girls.
            “What the fuck was that?” one of the sisters asked.
            Fuck being discreet, I rush up the stairs and into their room. The shocker was that the girls didn’t scream or holler, but their feet are cemented in the clean beige carpet they’re standing on. They start to flicker their eyes uncontrollably at me, which is beginning to annoy me. Their matching green eyes are poised at my soulless black eyes. The stench of sweat and fear has a tight grip on my nostrils as I grin and show my sharp shark-like teeth to the girls.
            “What do you want from us?” Karen asked as her chest holds a tight grip on her breathing.
            I didn’t say anything as I am staring fear right in its face. The grip on my knife becomes tighter as I keep taking quick glances at both of them, trying to pick which one to cut first. This time, I use my brain by closing their door with my foot. I quickly lung at Karen and tackle her on the bed.
            “Suzie, run!” Karen screamed.
            My momentum is so strong; it bounces me and Karen off the bed and onto the floor.
Susie takes off like a bolt of lightning as she runs out of her bedroom door, screaming like a frightened little child.
          I stab Karen in her stomach twice and I get up from the floor and run after Suzie. I follow her down those annoyingly creaking steps as I could feel the wood getting weaker with each step.
          “You can’t run bitch! You’re gonna die just like your slutty mother!” I yell followed by a maniacal laugh.
          She clutches the front doorknob, but Ms. Dumbass forgot that she was the last one to lock the door. I grab her by the waist and I wrestle her to the ground. She screams her head off right in front of my face, which arouses me. I must admit, her curvy hips, damn near perfect skin tone, sexy face and beautiful eyes makes her a great fuck mate. As I plunge my knife deep into the center of her chest, shrieks start to spill out of her vocal cords. I stab her again, and blood starts to leak from her chest wound.
          “Please! Stop!” Suzie screams as her cries start to sound like a faint.
          “I…can’t…stop…bitch,” I stab her in the neck with each word. Her body jerks and she lets out a final cough, which causes blood to get on my face...again. Her blood caresses my hands like a newborn baby as she lays lifeless on the carpet, with blood leaking from the side of her jaw like a turned on water fountain. Her pretty face now looks like a monster out of a horror movie. Her gaping sternum now makes an open heart surgery operation possible. I can see her heart—literally.
          My heavy breathing eases as the everlasting ringing in my ears stops long enough for me to remember that Karen is upstairs. I put Suzie’s dead body over my shoulder and I walk back upstairs.
          There is Karen, slowly crawling out of the doorway like a dying spider. Pride and dignity has been stripped from her conscious. Her head, shaking with facial trauma so severe, she looks like a deer caught in headlights. Her once straight hair now all out of place like a mental patient. Her tears are blanketing her eyes as she could barely see where she’s going. I gently put Suzie on the floor and I kneel down and I grab Karen from behind and my weight causes her to lie on her stomach.
          “No, please don’t,” Karen pleads as she weeps.
          I rise on top of her, slowly slithering the knife from the back of her head to her back. I grin, tossing the knife back in forth between my hands, cackling as if I was watching a comedy show. My hands slowly feel up on her butt cheeks, grabbing on both the left and right cheek. I begin to have a mouthful of my lower lip as I lay on top of her and kiss the back of her neck.
          I plunge my knife through Karen’s back three times. Her blood starts to squirt out and hit the floor like raindrops. Her screaming suppresses as she slowly turns on her back and gives out three slow hard coughs. She closes her eyes and she suddenly became motionless. There she lies in the exact same state her mother lies, dead.
          I drag both of the girls into their bedroom. Here I start with Suzie, ripping off her shirt and bra and I must say her boobs are far bigger than they appeared to be under her shirt. Her nipples aren’t the lumpy and thick ones you see on much more heavier women, but the cute perky small nipples that most young teenage girls have. My hand slowly comes up from her chest to her left breast and I feel up on her nipple. I couldn’t help but kiss her on her forehead but I find myself sliding my tongue from her lips, down to her neck, then down to her breast. The taste is marvelous. Her small scrumptious nipples mixed with the leaking blood from her mouth are like a small splash of fruit punch in my mouth. I gaze at her shorts and I pull them down to her ankles along with her panties. I know what you’re thinking, yes the sex came after.
        Sex with my dead victims is so stress relieving. It’s an ego booster and a great rush, especially for a person like me. The same went with Karen but I wasn’t done there. So here I am, with two naked women whose lives are gradually cut short. The once beige carpet is now mixed with thick red body fluid. I put the two twig-like bodies over my shoulders and I walk outside of the house. The sound of crickets and the faraway barking dog only makes me more intrigued by the silence in this neighborhood. I gently put the bodies down on the grass and I reach in my left pocket and press on the car keys. My black van’s alarm quickly sounded as its headlights flash for a quick second. I slide open the door and I lift the two bodies into the van. I then quickly rush over the mother’s body and I throw her over my shoulders. Her surprisingly forceful weight makes me strain and grunt with each step towards the van. I place her on top of her naked bloody daughters and I slide the door close. I get into the car where I drive off back to where I live, not seen by a single person.
© Copyright 2015 Bernard Rose (bernard316 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/2047756-The-Flawless-Facade