Interview with a Serial Killer

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
Nelson has the strangest interview of his life.

Submitted: October 04, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 04, 2016



Interview with a Serial Killer

By Joseph Logsdon

The office was cold and dusty, two things that drove Nelson to stare into space, a great amount of fear within his heart. He looked at his watch, puzzled as to where he needed to be, what he needed to do, and what ultimately awaited him. Twenty minutes had gone by, ten of which had been spent staring into the abyss, but given the desperate circumstances, nothing could be done. The light was dull and undefined, lit only by the lamp in front of him, which continued to flicker on and off, often without justification. His eyes gazed at the floor, disinterested and unfocused, characteristics that made him face the reality of what appeared to be happening to him. Two more minutes went by, proceeded by three, then four, only ending with five. His heart started to beat faster, populated with many different agonies, all tightened and frustrated, just one step away from completely losing any type of sanity.

The light became dimmer, stomped out by the blackness, not to be found again. The door, the one by the corner, suddenly came open, slight creakiness within its fragile structure. There was a woman, a relatively beautiful woman, perhaps thirty years old, maybe even forty years old, who entered the room, not even one sign of bitterness coming from her face, only joy and laughter. She edged towards the desk, forever sure to keep her eyes on him, out of the fear that he might try to escape. She slowly positioned herself in the small chair, rather humbled by his shy demeanor, ninety percent convinced of his viability as a candidate, despite her many doubts.

“To start out with, what is your name?”

“I’m Tommy Nelson, employee of Hatfield and Company, born in Georgia, October 3rd, 1914. The pay is very low, hardly worth the time and effort that I put into it. I sit there all day, numb beyond belief, with nothing to do but fold papers, smile at the boss, and never talk back. I’ll do anything, whatever you want, as long as I can have my privacy,” he explained, nearly rising out of his chair.

“You’ll have privacy, not to forget many other things,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“This job has a lot of details, specific instructions that must be followed, not questioned or resisted, so as to never dig your own grave. You must be here all week, at times on Saturday and Sunday, in order to achieve maximum efficiency. This job is very complicated, near the equivalent of running the business yourself, except without all of the loose ends. Do you have any questions?”

Nelson paused, not really sure of how to process what she had said to him. He scanned her face, positive that he would find some kind of humanity within her, a slight sign of compassion, only to find none. Her face, somewhat pale and stiff, remained artificial, more like a caricature than an actual person. Her eyebrows were soft and thin, mysterious to just about anyone who looked at them, in part due to their false nature. Nelson started shaking his feet, nervousness finally gaining control of him.

“You keep moving around, an obvious indication of nervousness. Do I make you feel nervous, by any chance?”

“Not nervous, just desperate,” he answered, his face shaking.

“You will be working for Richard Smith, America’s number one banker, among many other things. Blessed by his father, the late Thomas Smith, Richard proceeded to create a whole nation of wealth, progressed by an empire, as a result making him one of the richest men in the world. He has a proposal, this one made especially for you. Would you like to hear it?”

“What else am I here for, to have a good time? I want things to be explained here, this very instant, before I decide to leave,” he huffed, frustration in his voice.

“You will be his victim, the first of many to come. He will pay your family a lot of money, perhaps double what they are currently making, as long as you promise to go through with it, every aspect of it, with no questions asked. It will be quick and painless, identical to falling asleep, but without the knowledge that you will wake up. You might feel a slight bump, potentially a lack of air, only ending when he decides to end it. I hope that answers your question,” she hissed, still the same smile on her face.

Nelson rose out of his chair, far from amused by her proposal. He leaned against the wall, decidedly more frightened than he wanted to be, his eyes moving back and forth, not quite capable of subtlety or tranquility, for fear ruled the atmosphere. There was a sigh, slightly awkward when produced, completed with a scream that touched the ears of everyone in the building.

“What kind of job is this?”

“Thousands of people applied for this position; only one was chosen. You’re the right age, more or less the right height, and you even have the eyes that he’s looking for. He’s right here, close to you, all around the room, eager to watch every move you make. He’s been analyzing you for a long time, observant of your every action and gesture, always this close to approaching you,” she said, rising out of her chair.

“What would he want with me? I have nothing to offer, absolutely nothing, besides some pieces of silver, a few dollars, and not much else. I’m just desperate for work, any kind of work that will provide me with food, instead of pieces of garbage. You can have whatever I own, money and everything else, if you promise not to hurt me,” he said, losing all sense of calmness.

“Why should we listen to you? You’ll be gone, swept away by his merciful fingers, speechless before him, my boss and lover, who is in this very room, still waiting for the opportune moment, which happens to be now, at this very instant, during the time when he is at his very strongest,” she said, confidence in her voice.

Nelson had several options, all but one of which proved to be useless. He ran for the door, possibly his only means of escaping. He touched the knob, so close to experiencing freedom, just to be stopped by two powerful hands. They dragged him into the corner, hesitant no longer, but rather violent and cruel. Nelson opened his mouth, prepared to scream for his life. One hand covered his ears, another his mouth, and finally, his eyes. Faced with the potential end of his life, Nelson moved his arms back and forth, moments away from suffocation. He could feel two sets of hands, one being hard and rough, whereas the other appeared to be soft, presumably soft enough to be the hands of a woman. They squeezed his throat tighter and tighter, suffocation almost certain, as the sounds continued to become unhinged.

Nelson opened his eyes, greeted by the face of Richard Smith, his tormentor and enemy. He was old, around the age of eighty, with several scars on his face, one for each of his many crimes. He smiled at Nelson, grinned with contempt and hatred, both for humanity and himself, as he sighed again and again, each time with the same bitterness towards life.

“Among all of the possible candidates, several of which were very good, you were the most impressive. They had family and friends, the exact opposite of what I needed. First, I will take out your heart, then your ears, not finishing until you’re destroyed, completely demolished by my powerful hands. It is going to end tonight, two against one,” he said, squeezing Nelson’s throat.

The End








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