JON-A Day in the life of a Serial Killer Chapter 8 FOR THE BIRDS

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 20, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 20, 2013




Once again, I have no idea where I’m headed, or where the hell I’m at. One day I know this road of life I’m traveling on will end, and for your sake, let’s hope that time comes soon. I’m just tired of it all, not just physically, but mentally as well. Sometimes I wish my brain would just shut the fuck up and be at peace for once, but I know for me that moment will only come with death, and even then I’m not too sure. If there is such a place as Heaven and Hell, well I definitely know where the fuck I’m heading, “To hell in a hand basket” just like my Grandmother used to say. Fuck it though, who really gives a shit anyways? To some people I am God. I am the tribulation that comes in the middle of the night, setting their souls free, and delivering them from their iniquities. I am sin incarnate, death on two legs, feeding on the weak and powerless of the world. I am the balance in Nature, both Death and Life, lurking within your shadows. I let a big yawn and take a gander down at my watch; it looks as if it says two thirty something, but I can’t tell due to the recent dried blood stains on the face. I spit on my finger and rubbed it against the glass, smearing the now sticky blood away and seeing it is actually three forty five in the morning. Fuck, how long have I been driving this time? I’m always getting lost in my thoughts and losing all track of time, disappearing inside the dark corridors of my mind, that I’m really surprised I haven’t crashed head on into oncoming traffic before. Suddenly I heard banging noises coming from the back of the truck, as if Suzy had woken up and was now kicking against the inside of the truck bed, the sounds echoing into the cab were loud enough to startle the dog awake to let out a high pitched yelp. Looking over my shoulder I could see Suzy’s tear filled eyes looking at me in exasperation through the back window, struggling and trying to wiggle her hands free, frequently kicking against the truck to create some leverage. I put my finger to my lips and made the universal symbol for her to be quiet, “shhhhhhh”, grinning as I motioned to her through the back glass window. This only further enraged her, as she swung herself around onto her back and began to try and kick out the glass behind my head. She was attempting to make us crash or severely cut me with shards of broken glass, either way I wasn’t going to be putting up with it any longer. I pulled alongside the edge of the highway as she eventually crashed through the window, kicking me with the balls of her feet, showering me with fragments of broken glass. I could already feel the warmth coming from the back of my head, the feeling of my own blood trickling down through my hair and making its way down alongside the back of my neck, eventually running across my throat. The impact of her kick must have forced some of the glass to puncture my scalp, the pain a reminder that perhaps I am still human, and not a complete monster after all. I massaged my scalp vigorously, savoring the feeling of physical pain, a feeling I seldom get to experience for myself, if at all. Another kick through the window brings me back to reality, sending more glass flying inside the truck, her foot this time landing and barely striking the side of my face. Her second kick scratches my cheeks and temples with dust and glass particles, forcing me to come to my senses, deciding it was time to end any hope she might have had of escaping from these dire circumstances. Steaming from the madness that was brewing from within me, I kicked open my door and staggered out of the truck. It is what I like to call the dead of night, being that it is dead silent, except for the muffled pleads for help escaping from the warped duct tape that was still around Suzy’s mouth. I leaned over the side of the truck and looked down at her, watching as she was still attempting to free herself, as well as land another blow to my face by way of her flailing feet. I started laughing at her hysterically while reassuring her that this nightmare wasn’t anywhere near to being over, in fact we were just getting started, and by the time it’s all over she would understand what true pain was. In all the commotion I manage to land a blow to her face, punching her in the nose as hard as I could, causing her head to slam and bounce back against the bed of the truck. Blood instantly began to flow from both of her nostrils, as she moaned in discomfort, occasionally licking away her blood that was now dripping down across her lips. She was still conscious though, so this time I sent a shocking blow to her mouth, shattering her teeth and causing her to spit half way out what I can now see is a set of dentures to keep herself from choking. I pull them the rest of the way out of her mouth and put them inside of my own, tasting her blood and remnants of what she had for dinner hours prior. Tastes like chicken stew or maybe even turkey soup, regardless of what it was; it was delicious and made me realize that I was fucking starving again. I smiled down upon her, grinning from ear to ear, revealing the cracked dentures in my mouth while licking away any of her blood from the severed edges of porcelain. The look in her eyes had said it all, “I WAS in fact a monster”, and nothing was going to change that, at least nothing at the moment anyhow. I spit the dentures back out at her, laughing as they flew and hit her in the face, bouncing off her forehead before falling and settling into the corner of the truck. She is horrified as she watches me raise my fist one more time, her widened tear filled gaze absolutely reflecting sheer terror, as she belts out one last scream will all the energy she has left to plead with me one last time for her measly life. I wink at her before saying, “Not today sweetheart”, and send her into unconsciousness with one final strike to her temples, watching her eyes rolling to the back of her head thus confirming she was finally asleep again. I let out a deep sigh of relief, catching my breath for a second, realizing I needed to quit smoking. The idea of this makes me burst out again in laughter, like I gave a shit about what the fuck happened to me, let alone my health or well being. I light up a cigarette and inhale the warm smoke deeply into my lungs, feeling the nicotine ease the tensions in my neck, and then exhale through my nose into the brisk early morning air. Getting into the truck the first time, I’d noticed there was a small toolbox behind the seat bed, probably to adjust the carburetor and such should anything finally give way from the many years of wear and tear. I figured I better take a peek and see what the fuck was inside of it, maybe there was something I could use to send ole Suzy here into oblivion. Now that would be fun, wouldn’t it? I swing the bed seat up and grab the tool box from behind it, and slam it down onto the hood of the truck. I take another drag off the cigarette that’s now hanging off the bottom of my lip, causing me to squint to keep the second hand smoke from getting into my eyes, and unlock the toolbox. I see the usual pliers, wrenches, sockets, and screwdrivers scattered around in the top shelf, and remove it to see that there is a heavy duty ball ping hammer along with a box of nails in the bottom. There are also several kinds of various screws, nuts, and bolts that also might come in handy at some point throughout the night; we’ll just play it by ear and see what happens. I never know what the fuck I’m going to do, at any given moment, so I never really know how I’m going to kill you. I guess I just go with my instincts, doing whatever the fuck I feel comes natural to me, and then some. I decide the hammer and nails will do just fine, grabbing a handful of nails and shoving them into my back pocket, and then placing the hammer into the back of my pants waistband. Walking back over to Suzy’s still lying body, I take the last drag off my cigarette before it ends up burning my lips, spitting it out and stepping on it briefly afterwards. I grab Suzy’s body out of the truck bed and throw her over my shoulder, and start heading over to a single old wooden telephone pole that still happened to be lining the roadside in the distance. Weary from lack of sleep, I finally get to the pole and balance Suzy against it, using my body to press against her to keep her in place, while I free the hammer from my waistband and a few nails. I put the nails in my teeth and grab one of Suzy’s arms, raising it above her head and laying it against the pole, placing a nail inside the palm of her hand. With one swift blow, I drive the nail through her left hand, causing Suzy to awaken and scream in agony. Her natural instinct is to pull her hand away and off the nail, but my instincts tell me to quickly bend the nail over to keep her from doing just that, and grab another nail from my mouth. I drive this one deep into her wrist, pounding it into the pole, her blood now oozing from the puncture wounds and down her arms. She is barely conscious again, more like in a state of shock, as I grab another nail and raise her other arm above her head and place it over the left. I drive a few more nails into her right palm as well as the wrist, about fourteen in all to be exact, staking her up to the telephone pole. I wipe the sweat from my face with my blood stained shirt, and begin tearing off her clothes, leaving her pinned naked and helpless to the elements. I head back over to the truck and smash a piece of glass out of the broken back window, before throwing the hammer back into the toolbox and head back over to Suzy’s trembling body. She appeared to be barely alive, but I knew she hadn’t lost that much blood yet, but we were about to change all of that. I took my shirt off and wrapped it around the shard of glass, implementing a handle to keep me from cutting my hand up, while I opened up Suzy. I started at her throat and dug the glass deep into her jugular vein, spraying me in a stream of fresh blood, causing Suzy to give one final kick and jolt before finally releasing her last breath. I think, “Thank god, otherwise she was going to make this a lot harder than it had to be”, and begin sawing my way down her chest. The glass is old and breaks away easily into her skin, but I continue to slice away at her and make my way down to her stomach. When I reach her belly button, I head back up and carve away at her the same way I came down. The sounds of her flesh being shredded by glass send a chill down my spine, giving me a rush of adrenaline as I cut away at several layers of her skin, peeling her open at the same time. There is so much blood now that she looks like she was spray painted red, or an extra on the set of the latest trendy zombie television series. Now that I have completely opened her up, I begin digging my hands around the inside of her and pulling out some of her organs, her intestines now dangling from her stomach like sausage links hanging in the front window of an old Brooklyn deli. I stand back and look at my latest masterpiece, once again losing track of time and reality, not even bothering to stop to look and see if anybody was watching. I notice that only thirty five minutes had passed, as I can now see the sky has started to change color, from the deep star filled black of space, to the slowly approaching break of dawn. I can hear the animals now begin to stir in the bushes, the occasionally cry from the wakening blackbirds echoing throughout the trees, and notice a rabbit dart across the road and disappear into a nearby thicket of bushes. Suzy, the once cheer filled café owner was now finally free from all her responsibilities as a business owner, ending up being crucified on a telephone pole for all the world to see. I don’t know what Suzy did to deserve this, probably nothing, sometimes it’s just fate. Sometimes there is no logic to the things that go on in the world you and I live in, and I think we can all agree on one thing, shit just happens so to speak. I take one last glance at Suzy’s lifeless body and head back over to the truck. I throw the tool box back behind the seat, and hop into the driver’s side. My dog has jumped back onto the seat next to me and sniffs around for something to eat, probably searching for the rest of that ham from earlier, so I throw him the last piece of it, carton and all. I start up the old truck which sends a backfire to crack through the night, startling a few more blackbirds that take to the skies to scan the area from overhead, investigating the cause of the loud sounds coming from the tailpipe. I sit there for a minute and let the engine warm up, watching as a few birds have landed on the ground at Suzy’s feet, awkwardly looking up at her with their soulless black eyes. They are hesitant to get any closer to her as the trucks idling sounds keep them at bay, alert and ready to take flight in a moment’s notice if they instinctively fear death approaching them. I put the truck into first gear and slowly pull back onto the highway; the cool air blowing through the broken window feels soothing to the cut to the back of my head, making me remember I even had one to begin with. I turn around and see the birds have now begun to flock to her in groves, pecking away at her intestines, gulping down any piece of her that they could tear free. I begin to think how funny it is that your life can change overnight, for the better or for the worse, never really knowing what till it’s happened, but by then it’s too late. Take Suzy for instance, one minute a well loved entrepreneur, the next, just a meal for the birds. I proceed to drive on towards my destiny, entertaining all the vivid dark thoughts in my mind, all the while yearning and continually searching for a means to an end to it all.

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