CRIME SCENE
Another murder huh. That's the fifteenth murder in the past month. What is going on? The abnormal number of deaths has caused havoc within the police force. We're being overwhelmed. There are rumors that the FBI might get involved. God knows we don't want them taking such a high profiled case from us again.
Walking through the scene of the crime I got a whiff of the awful stench that was the victim's body. The victim was cut into 15 different pieces with his eyes ripped out of the socket. While examining what remained of the victim I felt a soft tender hand on my shoulder.
Looking at who grabbed my shoulder I saw a young beautiful woman standing with a giant grin across her face. Her name was Akane Sato. Akane was a detective who came from Japan. She transferred to our department 3 years ago where she was my understudy, but she soon climbed up the ranks and became one of the department's best detectives. She was a genius; her potential was off the charts if there was a board with all the best detectives in the world then she would be on top of that board. Only being behind me.
"Hey James, what do you have on the most recent victim?"
"Well, Akane, he was cut up in the same way as the previous 14 victims this month, 15 different body parts and no eyes. The worst part of the murder is that there is no evidence of someone being here."
"Alright what about the victim do we have any idea who they are?" Said Akane
"His name is Braylon Stevenson He was 36 years old and judging by the clean circular cuts in his limbs, he was cut with surgical tools. His estimated time of death was at 12 AM last night."
"Hmm, the cuts indicate someone using surgical tools, but for someone to make cuts that clean and precise they would require an extreme level of patience and technique. Whoever killed them must have experience in the medical field."
"Alright let's head back to the station, the medical examiner will take the body, and we'll need to wait for the autopsy report. In the meantime, we will go and investigate any possible suspects."
15 murders in the past month, the worst serial killer in the history of Houston had killed 20 people in 2 years until he was caught. He was known as the Midnight Ripper. The Midnight Ripper compared to this guy was an amateur. If our new serial killer has half the brain the Ripper had then Houston was going to be in for a horrible couple of nights.
But knowing that, I felt a sense of excitement growing in me like a parasite.
TREVOR
Opening the door, I was greeted by the empty abyss. All light that once existed in the house was swallowed by the darkness. Walking through the deep dark abyss I felt a cool breeze on my neck that made the hairs on my body stand. As I was traversing through the abyss I could see a bright white light in the distance.
Seeing the bright shining star in the distance I began to walk towards it. However, no matter how much I walked it felt as if the beautiful star was getting farther away. Eventually The star was within reach. When I peeked through the light, I saw something.
A family. A mom, a dad and a little girl sat eating dinner. There were smiles across their faces. They were a truly happy family, but something was missing. Underneath all their happiness they were hollow, empty and void inside. I couldn't tell what they were missing, but I could tell they were just like me. Faking the basics of a human to hide something worse deep inside.
"Trevor why are you just standing there come join us. We're family after all." A woman said. Looking over to my right I saw a tiny little girl grabbing my sleeve. I at first didn't know who the girl was but when I gave a closer look at the girl's face, I soon recognized who she was.
Carla. My sister. Stood next to me holding on tightly to my sleeve. Her grip was stronger than an ox but softer than a rabbit. Her smile was one of purity and grace, unlike the rest of us. Her eyes glittered gold and shined diamond. She was a cute little child who I was lucky to call my sister. If I could love someone then she would be the one person I would love.
"Brother come eat with us, you haven't eaten in days it's not good for you to not eat."
I stood still watching the younger version of my family staring at me. I felt a hole in my heart. No matter what I did I couldn't fill the emptiness in my heart. If I could feel human emotions, I would tell them I was sorry but deep down inside I didn't care nor tried to care I am who I am, and nothing can change that.
My family kept on asking me to sit down and eat dinner with them, but something was off. My mother the woman who had been dead for 6 years was in front of me. I figured it was my mind playing tricks on me, but when her cold small hands touched my cheek, it almost convinced me that she was standing in front of me. However, my dad's loud words snapped me out of my daze.
"Trevor!"
Looking around I saw my family staring at me with confusion in their eyes. My sister was in the kitchen sitting next to my father. My father stared at me mad, his bitter attitude had yet to subside even after 17 years. The bigger issue was my stepmother, she stood in front of me with wide eyes and her hand on my cheek. My stepmom and I weren't too close so her standing in front of me grabbing my face was unusual.
My stepmom Ariana would by many accounts be considered a gorgeous woman. She had short black hair that flowed together like a wave, her eye lashes curled like the mountains in the far distance, and she had a busty figure that would make any man feral.
Me and my stepmother stood face to face with an awkward silence shrouded in the air. Neither one of us could do anything except let the silence talk for us. After a while of us staring at each other Carla interrupted us and helped to break the awkward silence.
She came in the middle of us and pushed Ariana away from me while clinging to my shirt. But as she pushed Ariana away, I could see a look of pure disgust on my stepmom's face. Her face was grotesque compared to her immeasurable beauty from before. Despite that, she regained her composure as quickly as she lost it.
Not wanting to be in a crowded room I told my family that I was going up to my room and that I would be down when the dinner was ready. I slowly walked up the fresh new stairs, every step caused a loud yet magnetic footfall. Quickening my pace the stairs had caused a loud rumble that no longer made it captivating.
As I began walking towards my room, I could feel a cold yet warm feeling flowing through the corridor. Every step forward felt as if time was slowing down, the faster I began to walk the slower time became. Eventually I came face to face with my door. All the tension I felt from before dissipated just by standing in front of my room. My room was almost like a haven where nothing could hurt me.
Slowly turning the handle, I could see my small but spacious room greet me. My room was simple and neat. I didn't have a lot of items in my room other than the basics that a typical room would have but I liked it just like that. The lot of space gave me the freedom to enjoy myself and get my beloved peace.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I took in the nice quietness of my surroundings. If I could live like this for the rest of my life I would, however, life is like a cruel joke, nothing could ever go my way. After what felt like hours of sitting down, I finally got up and began to work. Not on homework or any special assignments my dad gave me but instead my next great project.
Everyone does everything for a reason, I may not have been born with a reason, but I made a reason for my hollow life to fit in. After that's what any normal person would do.
POLICE STATION
I sat down on my desk reviewing the latest murder, among all the killer's victims none of them were related. Typically, a murder has a pattern in which they kill whether it be cheap hookers, children or people with criminal past they always follow a pattern. However, this murder doesn't have a pattern or a motive.
They aren't a force for justice or a person who kills for fun. Instead, they're a person without a reason trying to make their life full However a theory like that could be debunked rather easily.
Getting up from my seat I began walking towards the conference room, displayed inside the room were pictures of the past 15 victims. Under each picture was a small description of who they were. Their personalities varied from one another. Most would be horrified at a sight like this but something about the murders was artistic. I can almost feel a sense of comfort looking at these pictures. The person who did these murders was just like me. Bored. I can feel excitement hugging me, whoever the killer was I wanted to take him down. I wanted him to grovel before me like all the previous monsters before, Because this is the only thing that can bring me true excitement.
While looking at the board I heard crowds of people walking into the room. My "Colleagues" as they were called. They were working with me to solve this problem; I don't consider them less than me but none of them were on me and Akane's level of smart. Deep inside I wish to meet someone who can rival my intelligence, someone who can make me have fun. That's all I want. But no matter how much I try I can't find someone to match me. If the day comes, I find that one person, then I'll never let them go.
"Alright let's begin everyone. What do we know about the recent murder?"
"Well...
TREVOR'S HOUSE
While finishing up my dinner I could hear my father aggressively go through the tv, every click on the remote had resonated around the house, the clicking's sounded like the casings of a gun going off. After a while the casing-like sounds began to strike a nerve within me. I was about to say something before I heard a tender voice speak up.
"Dad! Stop! Just pick a channel already just hearing you switching through the channels are giving me a headache." Carla said with an eerie but soft face. My father gave a look full of disdain, but he listened to her and finally settled on a channel. Grateful for what she did I gave her a warm thank you motion with my hands.
While eating my dinner I caught a glimpse of something strange in the corner of my eye. A white glistening smile, beaming across the dinner table. A woman so gorgeous and so stupendous had reflected a smile across a beautiful porcelain mirror that brightened the room. Ariana was staring at me ignoring any external stimulus, only focusing on me.
For someone who is taking on the role of a mother and wife, she wasn't very good at her job. Every time I looked at her, I saw her neglecting my father's needs and harboring resentment towards Carla but with me she was different. She didn't ignore me, whatever I wanted she gave me.
Comparing the motherly treatment, I received from her to my biological mother was like day and night. By all accounts she was the perfect mother. Loving, sweet, strong and she was extremely maternal. Sometimes she was almost too sweet. However, she was a good person at heart and was the most deserving person to be a mother.
I gave Ariana a small and sweet smile before I left the dining room. Walking towards the living room I could hear the faint sounds of a soft-spoken voice shaking through the room. Pushing the door open I saw my father, the lazy man he was, watching tv. But the thing that piqued me the most was the channel he was watching. WSVN, the top-rated network in the city was playing the news about Someone so monstrous, so vile that the world couldn't help but pity him.
The city's new friend was known as the H-Town gouger. A name like that repulsed me, the media didn't care about the safety of the people, all they cared about is gaining attention and as the saying goes No publicity is bad publicity. Despite that I couldn't blame them after all we as a species are inherently selfish. As a species it's our job to live our lives to their fullest and do what we want even if seen as selfish.
"The H-Town gouger has struck again with their latest victim being 36-year-old Braylon Stevenson. He was found chopped up into 14 different body parts with his eyes ripped out of his eye sockets." These actions would be considered grotesque, but others might consider it a form of art. The investigation has been going on for some time now, but they've gotten nothing. No DNA, no witnesses, not even a suspect. All they have is the technique and names of the victims.
"If you've seen anything the police are asking you to contact them immediately as any information will help them."
It's impossible for them to gather a case together, they haven't made it past the first murder and with the never-ending string of murders the idea of capturing the mass murder seemed like a long shot. Realizing I was staring at the tv for too long, I quickly began to make my way to my room.
"Before we forget the police has advised everyone to not go out at night alone. So, starting tomorrow we advise being in groups of 3 or more."
Hmmm. The message rung through my head like the agonizing sound of the school bell. I quickly ran up my stairs and slammed my door shut. Inside my room I sat down at my desk sinking in what I heard.
The police were going to force us to walk around in groups. Inconvenient for me.
Why did something like this bother me?
Because I killed all those people and I liked it.