2 months ago
I sat in the police interrogation room, two idiots circling me. I leaned back slightly in the chair and propped my feet up on a table in front of me. The windowless room smelled like metal and fish, it was odd. I preferred the smell of smoke.
"So," one of the idiots began, "Mr. Kane is it?"
"That's what they call me," I shrugged.
"You've been brought here on 412 accounts of murder arson by," he continued, "Why'd you do it?"
"I got bored," I taunted, "and I had a few hundred matches to waste, so I figured; Why not? It was just human life, nothing important."
"Hey," the other idiot yelled, "your sarcasm isn't necessary."
"Calm down," the good cop told him, "it's fine."
Oh boy, good cop/bad cop, this should be loads of fun.
"Let me tell you how this is going to work," the bad cop said, "I'm going to toss your ass in jail! You've just admitted to 412 accounts of murder! Hey," he snapped his fingers in my face, "are you even listening?"
I was -kind of. His words bored me. I made sure my sunglasses were tight on my face as I began,
"So," I noticed his badge, "Mr. White…really? That's' original.
Okay this is what's going to happen; you're going to shoot guy over there, then you're going to shoot yourself and I'm going to walk out, a free man. How's that sound?"
They looked at each other, first confused and then angry.
"You've got some balls boy," the bad cop leaned in staring at me. I removed my shades and focused, intently staring back.
"Now," I began in a whisper, "take that pretty little gun of yours from that holster and kill him."
I watched the man's hand tremble to grab the gun, but steadied as he held it. The good cop backed into the corner, sweating.
"Is this room soundproofed," I
"tell the truth." He nodded and I smiled, "Do it," and he did without hesitation. The now dead cop slid to the ground, a trail of blood flowing down the wall.
Mr. White turned to me, "What the hell are you?"
"I am what the poor have, what the rich want, and what your God fears," I said, looking down.
"What is that?" he shook.
"Nothing," I answered, "not a damn thing as far as this town's concerned." His brows arched at me, "Put the gun to your chin." I started to leave, "and pull it the second I'm out of your sight."
I pushed through the doors, passed the angry looking cops and listened for the gunshot. I'd left the door wide open so they could all hear it. They all seemed to jump at once, running to the room with Mr. White.
I walked out a free man, just like I'd told them I would.
2 months later
"It was a pleasure to burn," says Ray Bradbury in Fahrenheit 451 and now I understand what he meant. It is a pleasure to see the wonderful contrasts of red and orange against the night sky. It's an indescribable delight to see them go up in a glorious pyre. It is a haunting joy, the deliciously foul aroma of kerosene. My name is Arthur Kane and I'm not evil- I'm just misunderstood.
There are few people in the world who can remember their birth but I do, I remember it all. I remember the doctors and I remember the room. I remember lying in the hospital after I was born, looking through the Plexiglas and seeing my parents; and a week later, I remember dying.
My mother was pushing me down the sidewalk when a pale teenager came over to me. I was a baby so I couldn't really understand what he sa\id. A moment later, my world was inverted and I fell to the ground headfirst.
The next thing I knew, I was back in the hospital looking through the glass and seeing my parents. I know I died. I remember that day vividly and I relieve it almost every night in my sleep. Every night I fall to the ground dead, but wake up alive in the next instant.
Later, I discovered that the teenager was named Atton Brown. He was a good person but he had some problems. In this town, he was a legend but to me he was nothing but a murderer. He left a mark on all that he murdered, except for me and now, I have learned the significance of the "V." I now know that everyone with the Mark must be killed. The only way to kill them without any traces leading back to me is arson.
Somehow, when I went through the Rebirth I was given a strange ability. My eyes are white, like all white but I can change their color to black and when they go black, I hypnotize people. They are susceptible to any command I speak but I am learning to control it. I wear sunglasses over them and this shields my power. I can use this power to rally people to my cause and on occasion, see the future.
Of course, there are the ones who get in my way. They are the ones in the world that will portray me as the bad guy, but if they do not join me in saving this pitiful town then they will die.
Today I have found another site; an elderly couple who are both Marked. I hate it when old people are Marked because for some reason old people always seemed more vicious. That mark could turn the sweetest old couple into killers.
I sent my best worker out to take care of it and she did not oppose me. Usually I accompany her there and make sure she starts correctly but this time I would stay the whole fire. The only time I did this was when I knew the people that needed to be killed.
Both me, and my assistant have our own personal style. I usually douse the place in kerosene and then light a match. However, she has developed her own style; first, she rang the doorbell.
"Hello," an elderly woman said answering the door.
The woman was about five-foot three, silver haired and in her early eighties. In fact, if I remembered correctly, today was her birthday. Today I would say goodbye to Mrs. Trenton.
"Yes, my name is Ms. Lansing," she skillfully lied. "I am here to fix the heater."
"Oh please come in," Mrs. Trenton said slowly. "I don't remember the heater being broken."
"Your husband called," I lied. I looked for her husband and found him asleep in a recliner. "He said to come as soon as possible."
"Oh, he just got off the phone. Would you like some cookies?" she asked sweetly.
"No," I declined; even though I could tell my assistant wanted some.
She looked at me again and I knew she remembered me. "Artie," Mrs. Trenton weakly smiled, "little Artie, my, how you've grown." I flashed a phony smile at her and kept moving.
Mrs. Trenton was a nice woman, but I could see in her eyes that she was changing. Her canines were enlarging and extracting and her claws were forming. She would be at our throats in the next fifteen minutes.
Okay, I think I should tell you the story with Mrs. Trenton.
When I was five years old, my parents got divorced. My mom moved to California and my dad stayed here. My dad was never a kind man, he was abusive, to say the least. Every time he got drunk, I received a beating. I had to make up cheap stories like; running into a door or falling down the stairs. One time I remember, but I don't want to remember, was the time he and I were alone at home. I was barely six and my father…violated me -twice. That's just another reason I'm as messed up as I am now.
A few months later, my dad hired a nanny and, as you may have guessed, it was Mrs. Trenton. She was like a mother to me for the next ten years. When I was fifteen, my mother came back.
The second she did, my dad fired Mrs. Trenton and back then, I felt nothing for her. I wanted to feel sorry for her and I wanted to love her, but I couldn't. There was something inside of me that just wouldn't allow it.
I don't know what is wrong with me, but it was the same thing today. There was just something inside of me that wouldn't allow emotions.
The city looks so pretty do you wanna burn it with me? -Hollywood Undead
We made our way to the heater. I was holding a bag and a bucket of kerosene. A flamethrower was in the bag, my assistant's idea.
After about fifteen minutes, Mrs. Trenton and her husband found their way to the heater. Then, as I had predicted, they attacked us; however, we were prepared. My assistant doused them with the kerosene.
I turned the flamethrower on them and watched them burn. They ran around screaming and spreading the fire throughout the house.
My helper picked up the phone and called 911, "Help! Help! Somebody help! My house has caught fire and my grandparents are here." She gave them the address. I was impressed at how sincerely scared she'd sounded on the phone. I heard the sirens so we hurried away from the scene.
Mrs. Trenton ran towards me as the flames cooled down. She grabbed my shirt as she fell to the ground. As her dying eyes met mine she whispered, "Artie, Little Artie, my how you've grown." Then her charred corpse slumped towards the ground.
Still I felt nothing.
"Let's go," I instructed. "Good job, Casey." That's right, Casey. I bet Josh probably had you thinking she was dead, well she isn't, I planned everything. The ashes spread across the Jade Lake weren't hers. They were my uncles or grandfathers; I don't know which, but there was no body at the funeral.
There's a lesson for ya; if you don't find the body, then the person is not dead.
Anyway, after Terry shot her I came in. The wound was fresh and Casey used every ounce of will she had to fight back. Josh left a sample of his blood on the floor that I used to complete the immortality formula. I gave her a quick fix of the formula and it revived her, somehow but it didn't make her immortal. I didn't plan on her dying and I was glad it worked. The formula I made from the salvaged remains of Josh's blood only kept me immortal for one month and sadly, that month was over. Now, I had to be more careful than ever...