Dead Wrong

-Prologue

It was a cold night but his clothes stuck to his skin: beads of sweat covered his forehead.The Voice was speaking to him again. He told that bitch doctor pills wouldn't help, he proved that to her 2 years ago when he wrapped his hands around her throat. It was an incredible moment watching the life leave her eyes. His 3rd kill. It felt like the 1st time because she begged; just like Jenny and Laura. He loved when they begged; But right now the man couldn't take the pain, his head was spinning and it felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing him in his temple. The Voice was angry with him tonight. As he headed to the bathroom he glanced at the only window in his small living room, the rain sounded like rocks being thrown at his window, thunder clapped in the sky and he could hear his neighbors next door having another argument; something about money.

His bathroom had one fluorescent red light, he loved how it made him look in the mirror. He loved the color red, especially dark red.

Why are you still here?

"Please, I can't do it, not this one"

You're weak!

You're weak!

The Voice boomed in his head.

He could feel the warm tears form in his eyes.

You're crying? You can never be a man, you're a weak little fag. That's why you couldn't qualify for the army. You're a disappointment.

"I just-"

No! You should just commit suicide, I know you think about it. You're fucking useless, you're fu-

The man turned the light off then entered his dark living room, the only light he needed illuminated from the street light next to his rain covered window. The suitcase near his couch was already opened, he knelt beside it and felt for the only thing he needed for tonight.

He raised the serrated knife and smirked at how it gleamed in the light. He couldn't wait to see it covered in his favorite color.

Jeffrey Dufrane was exhausted; he had just finished reading a Stephen King novel and he couldn't wait to gossip to his students about how gory The Shining was and how the movie took out most of the juicy parts. As he started dozing off he thought he heard a noise in his living room.

"Oh Jeffrey, it was just thunder. Quit being such an old coward". Even after convincing himself everything was fine he still felt like he should get up and check.

He got out of bed then put on his robe and slippers. As he tied his robe he began walking down the hallway and down the darkened stairs. He used the opened window blinds in the living room for light; shadows covered the living room. He could see the novel he was reading was knocked off of the stand near his couch.

"What the hell"? He muttered.

Suddenly he felt a burst of fear run through his veins. He knew he put that novel on the stand, why was it on the floor? Was that the noise he heard?

As his mind ran with several thoughts he tried to reach for the lamp light when he felt a sharp pain in his side. Then he saw the tall, dark figure standing beside him.

A scream escaped his lips and he could feel the sharp object enter him several more times. He could feel the hot blood start to bubble in his mouth, his eyes watered; he begged his attacker to stop but the man only chuckled and told him to keep begging, Jeffery fell face down on the hard wood floor; he felt faint and he knew he was going to die. Out of breath; the man knelt beside him then lifted Jeffery's head.

" Can you hear me"?

Jeffery gurgled.

"Jeff, how does it feel? What is it like? I need to know"?