Reflections of a Homicidal Maniac

Part: II Deaths in the Family

School was long and monotonous. Mathematics was after all, his worst subject and his teacher, Mr. Seller was an overly fat man and had a robotic, monotone voice. There was no way to pay attention. For Carter everything was great. It was his birthday.

The office called for Carter in the middle of class. He must've been leaving for lunch, I assumed. He walked down to the office. The secretary smiled and said "This was delivered to you this morning," it was a giant present with a tag that said "open it now." He did as the tag said.

Inside was the worst horror he could imagine. He screamed in horror. It was the nasty, putrid, decaying body of his father. The secretary laughed. She knew it was coming. He ran out of the school building and found a bike. He rode the rest of the way home.

Home. He walked in running, screaming, checking every room for mom.

There she was. On the couch, a look of horror on her face, a knife in her heart. The blood was pooling onto the floor. A card was sat next to the body. If you don't want this to happen to you follow these instru... the stench of the blood was too much. He passed out on the floor. Sleep. Dreams.

He was standing outside in the woods. Next to him stood a bus razing in flames with a trail of fire all the way to a gasoline can next to his feet. Inside was two screaming people, myself and Abigail.

He woke up sweating on the floor. He finished the note...
Get rid of the guns in the cellar. Take them to the woods. When you're finished put a flag outside the front of your house.
Signed, None of Your Damn Business

He found the cellar. Perfect hiding place for weapons considering no one has been down there since the previous owner. He grabbed the box of guns and walked.