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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1693103-Walk-in-Vanity-Ruins
by NoName
Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #1693103
The story of a murderous teen who's life takes a dangerous twist.
Prologue:



    He had done wrong. Each life he took, each drop of blood spilled, was for his own selfish desires. His parents, girlfriend, and young sister all lie in mutilated heaps on the floor beneath his feet, gushing blood from each wound visible on their broken bodies. He looked over them, heaving for air that did not come to him. Every huff which escaped him only brought more of a desire to hack away at their flesh. No other breaths came from the home, besides those of his own, and those echoed softly through his home, as if there seperate other versions on himself all over the nearly empty household. Finally, he calmed himself, to the extent where he began to saunter out of the house, dragging his trusty axe behind him with an oddly demonic grin evident on his features. He took one last look back at the place after checking in his mind that his room was empty, then bluntly slammed the door behind him and nonchalantly whistled a joyous tune to himself, proud of the deed he had done.



------

    The next morning, he awoke from his slumber, well hidden from the public eye by the deep shadows cast by the walls of the building he rested beside so peacefully the night before. With a deep yawn and another demonic grin, he brushed his black-and-blonde bangs from over his eyes to watch the clouds roll slowly across the skies. Soon, he was daydreaming, recalling last night's exciting killing spree.



.....



He strolled casually along the trail to his house. He could hear the animals scattering away from him in attempt to escape the scent of blood that wafted off of his pale skin. His head was tilted to the side, and he grinned, anticipating this moment as he had been for months. "F-Finally..." he giggled, licking his lips sadistically as he neared his driveway, dragging his axe against the pavement and enjoying the metallic rattling it produced, "I-I can rid myself of the people who ultimately ruined my life!" He shuddered in delight from the thoughts of freedom that flooded his already clouded mind.



His house was a small, two-story house that was just enough to fit the family resting within. His family. The walls were made with heavy red bricks, and the black tiles of the roof needed to be replaced.They had started to crumble with age, and he could see where weather took its tool on the house through a crumbling chimney that had been sealed off about a year ago. The door was small, only about 6'5'' feet above the ground. Nobody had been expecting anyone taller than that in the house, so it wasn't a problem. Luckily, he noted, that he was 6'4'', and that wouldn't be a problem.



Around the house, trees grew wild. Some new, some old, and some just dead from years and years. Many animals took refuge there through harsh weather. There were some felled trees in the backyard that were either chopped or just fell because of weak roots. He used to find find fun out of catching lizards and snakes from their. His favourite, being the snakes.



He soon made it to the front door and knocked loudly, causing silence within the house. Again, he knocked, louder this time. Still no reply. Once more. Finally the door opened, revealing his girlfriend, who was 4 months pregnant with the twins he never wanted. Another reason to kill her. "He-Hello, Naomi..." he murmured, stepping right up to her and grinning down at her. She could have sworn that she saw a hint of gold shine through his dull, grey eyes. By the way he was looking at her, she figured that he was going to beat her again.



The inside of the house was illuminated by only a few lamps here and there. The fant, orange glow reminded derek of the fire that used to rage from the once frequently used fireplace. Various pieces of furniture were scattered in many rooms, but not obnoxiously so. But still it still bothered the man, who seemed to pull a quick look of disgust at the sight of the inside of the house.



"Oh... Hello Derek... Do you need something?" Naomi tried to ask calmly, but her expression betrayed her voice. She stepped back, but he matched her pace, at the exact time she moved.



"Does it matter?" he asked, licking his teeth. He saw her glance at the axe behind him and couldn't help but to chuckle quietly. "Oh, this? It's my uhh... axe to uhh... Ah, FUCK IT." in an instant, he had swung the axe and nailed her, directly in the center of her bulging belly, killing any form of life that was flourishing within her. Her pained scream echoed through the house, startling all but Derek. Instead, he laughed like a madman, not hesitating to swing again, and again, and again, severing limbs and joints with each forceful swing. Blood splattered around the hallway to the door, and bloody entrails spilled out onto the rapidly reddening floor.



His parents heard the commotion and couldn't help but to rush downstairs to Naomi's aid. when they saw their son hacking away at her body, they were compelled to stop him and save the woman who he had beaten several times before, though she seemed too far gone to be saved. His father grabbed a shotgun and 9 bullets, in case he missed eight times, which seemed unlikely at the moment. He loaded, cocked it, and tried to take aim, but instantly, Derek was upon him, holding tightly to the collar of his shirt and punching him repeatedly in the face like a scene caught from a scratched DVD. Each punch was stronger than the last, until what remained of his father's face was a heavily bleeding crater. What used to be eyeballs were now piles of goo resting in flattened sockets. Each of his teeth were either cracked, broken completely, or knocked to the back of his throat, which had gathered blood from a crumbled nose. Not broken. Crumbled to something close to lumpy Jell-O.



His mother was next to go. He hated how she screamed at everything, including this, which was starting to ruin his fun. Behind them, he could see his little sister, who was about 14 years old, crying for her parents. He dropped his father's limp body and grabbed onto his mother's face, using his free hand to punch her in the throat repeatedly, crushing her windpipe with the first and drawing much blood with the second, which spilled out and onto his hand. Next, as his mother gasped and gargled for air, he dropped her and grabbed his axe, which was lodged in his girlfriend's body to ensure that nobody got any ideas. Using it to slash and mutilate her body, he killed her almost instantly.



Then, he charged toward his sister, who tried desperately to escape the fate that Derek was rapidly going to bring upon her.



"Oh Amy...?" he cooed, watching her feet disappear behind her door before it slammed shut, muffling the click of the lock sealing the door shut. He stepped clumsily up the stairs and walked to her room just ahead. Without warning, he grabbed onto the doorknob and turned... Only to find that it was locked. "Why you clever little shit..." he growled, bemused by her petty attempt to escape. He could hear her opening her window and throwing the escape ladder through. "Why won't you just fucking give up?" he called through the door, before silently stepping backward and grabbing onto his father's convieniently cocked shotgun. He once again licked his teeth and kicked the door down with an animalistic snarl, and aimed the gun at her desending head.



"You should have just accepted it." he hissed at her with a sneer before he pulled the trigger.



Moments later, he had them all piled in front of the front door to be forgotten, since nobody lived nearby. He glanced back at their bodies and thumbed his nose in pride and anger, one of the last insults he sent to their bodies. He turned away, and stepped through the door, which had been left agape for the entire half hour dedicated to killing his family. He took in a deep breath of fresh air, then sauntered away, whistling a joyous tune to himself.




He smiled at his accomplishment, enjoying the feeling of doing something he thought was right. With a sigh, he closed his eyes back, just to think for a while about his next victims. He was deep in thought, but managed not to doze off, before his eyes quickly opened and he sat up. An idea had come to him, forcing a frown to his face. He stood  and huffed, looking around quickly to take in his surroundings to be remembered for later. After all, he found this place satisfactory, unlike the other, busier places he had been to.



His expression hardened to a scowl. The walk to the desired destination was hours, if not days from here. He had to get started right away. Huffing again, he hoisted his axe onto his soulder with both of his thin, yet slightly muscular arms, and started away.
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