Murder My Insanity

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
so, this is my first short story. It scared me half to death that i could write something like this. its really dark, a little erotic, but it's pretty good, if i do say so myself. and let me just say, i am not a murderer or suicidal and i don't have dark thoughts. but maybe i'm just thinking its better than it is. so, let me explain, this was sort of a test for me. to see if i could write this kind of perspective, to see how far my imagination could stretch. so I ask you this, is this CONVINCING? so, yeah. please comment

Submitted: March 30, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 30, 2011



FYI: the stuff between these ~~ are supposed to be italicized. can you figure out why?

Part One: Sighting

My eyes were open all night; staring at the endless black expanse. Tossing, turning; but mostly just laying there. My mind wandered, to the black abyss of cherished screams and the feeling of adrenaline pumping in my system, the sweet, sweet images of the last one. Her bright red lips, seeming like a blood stain on her pale porcelain skin.

And sweetest of all: her eyes, pleading – no begging – to be let go. They were all the same, the eyes, whether they were brown, gray, green, or blue; but that one, her eyes, had been truly delicious; a creamy brown that had practically screamed at him. They had fulfilled him until he could have taken no more, but he had and it had almost killed him just as it had killed her.

I thought these things in a coveted manner and was almost filled again, simply with the memories. But they were wonderful. Oh so beautiful, the scarlet on ivory. My gut quivered in excitement at the thought of doing it again, soon. I sat up, no longer able to lie still.

The sun was peeking through the blinds, shining into my clear ice blue eyes. I often wondered what those women saw in my eyes as I tenderly killed them. I often imagined they saw pure ecstasy or some similar emotion.

I stepped out the door with a spring in my step; my anticipation was almost too much, almost. The sky was a perfect shade of blue and white puffy clouds lingered on the edges. Walking toward the black camero I waved to my neighbors’ alien gardener. She nodded in a fearful sort; it always amused me how the poor in society always knew when there was a predator around and yet the rich were clueless. But that was fine. It should stay that way.

Driving from the country to the city was dull on the best of days. When I first moved to the country the scenery had been nice, an extra perk, but now they bored him even more than the white walls of his office. There were few cars on that particular road in to L.A. That is the way I liked it; quiet and no one to see anything.

At quarter to eight my rakish self walked into the most prestigious law firm in L.A. The marble flours were shiny with lacquer and many more similarly dressed attorneys and prosecutors walked with purpose. My secretary awaited me in my spacious office with papers on a murder case I was to undertake the prosecution of. After a quick look, I settled into my antique oak desk and sent the annoyingly pointy woman away. She was as undesirable and hard on the eyes as a dog, one of those bulldogs.

I sat there for hours contemplating my next victim. She was just as beautiful as the others but, as a bonus, she was also the mayor’s daughter. I knew what I would do to her, how I would take her life. I could almost hear her luscious screams, feel her weak fingers, knowing her heart beat was spiking.

My blackberry buzzed its way into my consciousness. There was a simple text on the black screen. It said, “Can’t wait to see you. You’re picking me up at seven? ~Jane”. Something sinister inside me smiled in triumph.

Part Two: Execution Before leaving the firm I made a quick pit stop at the bathroom to check my reflection, flies only go for the bait if it’s sweet. I have always been blessed with good looks, maybe not your classic handsome, but I was handsome none the less and I could see it in every woman’s eyes. Maybe it was my eyes, ice blue and twinkling, or my bold, smooth shaven jaw, or maybe my long, black, beach-wavy hair, or my gently muscled, golden body; but something about me attracted women like flies to honey. Not bad for a man in his early thirties. After popping a breath mint in my mouth, I left at a leisurely pace for 10896 Beach Court. I pulled up in front of a pale mansion with towering beige columns and large bay windows leading off to balconies. It was a nice beachfront house. I dialed Jane’s number and waited for her to answer. On the third ring she picked up with a perky, “I’ll be right out.” She hung up.

I really wasn’t sure why I chose her, a well known woman who people were sure to investigate the disappearance of, but something in that very fact of more danger had made her more alluring to me.

This was our seventh date over a month, normally when I enjoyed myself the most. For some reason unknown to me, it was the seventh date I chose to consume their essence in full. No matter what city or country, as most of these women were from place around the word so as not to breed suspicion, it was the seventh night out. The double front doors opened and Jane stepped out in a nice floor-length, silky, blue and violet gown. Her dark red hair was done up in an expertly done coif and around her exposed neck was a many stranded violet amethyst and pearl necklace. She wore matching dangling earrings as well. I smiled a small smile to myself; I had bought those for her on the second date.

When she reached the car I pushed open her door and her slim figure slid in the seat besides me. She looked into my eyes and said, “So where are we off to tonight, babe?” Her voice was melodious and bright and soon it would be staunched from her throat, permanently.

I left her hanging for a moment before replying, “My place. It may not be a mansion, but it has a better view of the sea.” A smile spread on her face as well as my own, but for very different reasons, I’m sure. “Yes, my dear, I’ll be cooking a wonderful Italian dinner for you tonight, complete with wine, scallops, salad, and a creamy Tuscan dressing.” After all, the damned deserved a last meal, why not make it a good one, I added silently.

A sexily murmured ‘yummmmmmm’ slipped from her cherry lips. I smiled suggestively for effect and she shivered. My charm worked its way into many hearts.

After a dinner of lasagna topped off with fresh basil and a year 1919 red wine with slices of decadent German chocolate cake we sat and watched the waves crashing into my cliff. “I must say, I had no idea you could cook.” She ran her tongue over her lips and put her head on my shoulder. “And now that I do, I’ll have to come over more often.” She said it playfully, like a threat.

“Oh, there will be no need for that.” I whispered in her ear, no longer caring whether or not I let something slip. Whether she caught my undertones and implications was no longer a worry. The doors were locked and ropes were ready upstairs, waiting.

Jane leaned back in confusion. “What do you mean?” Expectation crept into her eyes. Maybe she thought he would ask her to move in with him? Not a chance.

“Oh, nothing.” He watched as her gaze fell and she leaned into him once more and we watched the sun set in silence. It was a peachy orange that might have been beautiful if he thought of beauty in that way. They stayed there until it ended, the last one Jane would ever see. Something clenched in me, lying dormant for the moment, but would spring out at the right moment.

Under new stars I ran my hand seductively over her thigh, edging upward. She reacted by rubbing her head into my chest and reaching up to lightly grasp my face before giving me a gentle kiss. She pulled away and made what could only be described as a purring sound. I dived in for a kiss and slipped my tongue through her plump, waiting lips. She was eager and explored my mouth with light touches here and there. She leaned back and looked into my face for a pensive moment.

Her voice was husky when she said, “I love you.” Her eyes were so clear and full of hope. This was the first time she’d said it, those words. How wonderfully delicious.

I responded with the appropriate, “I love you too.” At that moment I knew she’d melted in my arms, she would be putty in my hands. She pressed her lips to mine and started to lift my shirt up. Her hands rubbed my chest in a massaging fashion. “Let’s go up.”

I stood up with her still on my lap and she wrapped her legs around my waist. I kissed her and bit her lip. She sighed and did the same to mine. I carried her up the stairs and into a guest bedroom. No need to make my sheets bloody. I opened the door and set her down on the bed. She took off her dress, leaving her in only a red lace bra and matching panties. She put her hands at my waist band and tried to slide them down but I placed my hand on hers, stopping her. She pouted.

“Lie down.” I commanded in a gruff voice.

She laid down willingly and then i bound her wrists and ankles, in a kinky manner so she wouldn't fight back yet.

\"What are you doing?\" There was some confusion in her giggly voice; she thought it was a joke. I didn't answer. I stood up and watched her smile slowly fade and become one of fear. \"What's going on? Let me go.\" Her voice was getting desperate.

\"It's all okay.\" I said calmly while I reached up onto a shelf. I brought a beautiful knife down. The handle was bone and engraved on it were native american markings.

That knife was my shining glory, my prized possession. It was a beautiful serrated knife that cut flesh cleanly, and oh was it sharp. She saw the knife and this time her eyes widened in fear. “What are you doing?” she started to struggle against the restraints. I whispered that it was all ok. She didn’t believe me, they never did, this was when they always caught on. I lowered the knife to her perfectly flat stomach and drove it in just a little ways. She screamed a scream of pure ecstasy. It was so lovely, so beautiful. I drew the line along each and every rib. Her screaming never ended. She shouted at me, she yelled at me, she even made threats, but all I really heard were those sweet shrieks.

I took the knife to her face and made marks on her jaw-line, her nose, even her eyebrows. Her blood was weeping out of every delicate gash, out of every wound I had given her and it gave me so much power; so much power. I let up for a moment and in that moment she uttered six words, six little words.

“It’s not my fault you hate yourself.” She looked into my eyes with contempt and such pure hatred. My eyes widened. My heart beat quickened, and not for the reasons I would have liked.

“What?” She had answered my question, what they saw in my eyes. That enraged me and I ended it, her life. I raised the knife high over my head and plunged it into her heart. I looked into her eyes and saw nothing, no life, in them, but for the first time it gave me no pleasure, no sense of joy, absolutely nothing. I screamed and mangled her body in every way possible. I disconnected limbs and even carved her eyes out.

~It no longer sustains you.~

But it must

~It doesn’t. It’s over, there’s no joy left.~ I thought for a moment. What would I do? It had taken so long to find this, so long. It was destroyed, all because of Jane! My rage renewed, I stabbed her five more times with a fury I had never known before. Then on the sixth stab, I hit my own hand. And I felt something. I felt relief, no, I felt something more. I couldn’t describe it.

~That is what you do.~

But it will be so short, so short. Almost no joy.

~But there is joy. Do it! Do it!~ The chant continued until I slid the knife beneath my own flesh. And it was amazing, so much better than everything else.

~Do it until you end it!~

Part Three: Dead

A policeman walked out of a cliff front house. He was disgusted at what he’d seen. Early in the morning, he’d gotten a call from a gardener, saying a woman had been murdered and the owner of the house had done it.

He had responded with two other cops. They had barged into the house around four in the morning. They’d searched through all the rooms. There’d been a room filled with different kinds of knives, another room filled with pictures of mutilated women, and a third room with two bodies.

A man had Murdered the Mayor’s daughter in cold blood. The bodies had been found naked and covered in blood. But the strangest thing was the look on the man’s face, joy.

Keellan Mertz had killed a woman and then brutally killed himself.

© Copyright 2017 KenzFerrari. All rights reserved.

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