Asylum//c.h

The Start Of Killing Sprees

Looking down at the bodies piled onto each other reminds me that I have done an Angels job. I took their lives and freed their souls for once. Their death, it wasn't normal, not the most painful, but it was something you grieve over. Something that will haunt you in your sleep.

Or when you are all alone on eerie nights. The four, or was it five, bodies had each begged. They shouldn't beg for their lives, they should fight for it. They were weak, making me almost as sick as I was when I killed the youngest, Mona.

Mona was, a beautiful girl that had aged five years. I've known her all my life, considering we have the same father. It was as if someone had taken possession over my restless body and moving it around as if it were a puppet or controlling me like a voodoo doll.

Flashback
My vision blurred and my heart halted and took a change. It started to beat faster and faster. The soup I was making for Mona was no longer healthy but was now filled with 2/5 of rat poison. The clear liquid instantly mixing together.

Soon, Mona drank her vegetable soup peacefully as I watched her waiting for the outcome of what was soon to come. She drank all of it, saying it was extra delicious today, and I told her that It was and that I would make more for her later.

Minutes later dad came home, suitcase in one hand and on the other were his car keys and cellphone. He sat down and asked how our day went.

Mid sentence, I turned to look at Mona. Blood was rushing from her nose like the flow of a river. Dad followed my solid stare and arose from his chair to grab a towel.

Once he had came back with the towel Mona was crying a shade so dark, it was believed to be blood. Dad frantically moved around trying to help her but she ran off to the bathroom and the sound of her vomiting echoed through my head making me close my eyes, a slight smile printed on my face.

I soon got tired of him running around trying to shake Mona's lifeless body, and cries for my help, I left the room and entered the kitchen. I yanked the metal that was used to open the oven, breaking it and turned the stove. I placed the metal on the blue/red flames until it turned a bright orange color.

I sneaked up behind my beloved father, the burning metal in hand and swing it at his back. He turned around moaning painfully but before anything was said i strikes again but this time on his face. I did it over and over again until I was sure he would not open his eyes anymore.

I was throwing the bodies into the basement each one followed by the sickening sound of bones cracking open, when I heard the soft patter of footsteps just outside of the apartment.

I opened the door greeted by Emily, the neighbors daughter who was two years younger than me, 15.

She was mute. If I killed her she would make no noise at all. But I decided to make this one very slow and very painful.

"Come I want to show you something in the basement," I said and she, being curious smiled and nodded. I let her in before closing the door and locking it. I lead her to the basement and pushed her down the stairs, no doubt falling atop one of the earlier killed bodies. I turned on the light noticing she was unconscious and strapped her to the extra mattress we had in the basement. I took a medical knife which belonged to my mother who was a nurse and cut a long gash from her mouth to her cheekbones.

That woke her up, which made me happy that I was not the only one that was going to enjoy the event.

I got up from my seat to look at the box of endless tools my father had.

Hammer.

I grasped the hammer tightly in my hands, her cries filling up my system and sending me into hysteria. I swung the hammer at her feet, mostly aiming at her toes. A loud cry was heard from her mouth, making me slightly mad. Why was she crying, she should be enjoying it.

I continued looking through the box before finding a tool that is used to pull at stuff while twisting it. I grabbed it and took Emily's chin in my hands. I struggled to slip it into her mouth but I soon did. I placed it atop one of her back teeth and squeezed taking the teeth into the tool and pulling.

A click was heard and the tooth loosened into the tool. I started feeling a bit dizzy and suddenly I was on the ground unconscious.

I woke up seeing my mom and little brother. I tried to get up. What happened? I look at the dead bodies. It wasn't me. I'm no killer.

"It wasn't me, mom, Dylan, please,"

"I'm not crazy mom please,"

I pleaded a nurse restraining me from grabbing ahold of mother, another sticking a needle to my already weak frame.

The tears rushing through her face like the flow of a river. She grabbed my younger brother, Dylan as if protecting him from me.

"I'm not crazy,"
Was the last they heard from me.