Kill Kill -- CR

001

"There's this woman," Chandler spoke softly. "I have her in my car."

I was confused. What is he talking about? "What the hell?"

"I want to kill her," He looked at me with crazed blue eyes.

I was going to protest, but he grabbed my arm. "We have to kill her." I looked at him fearfully. I did not know this Chandler. I yanked my arm from his grip and stared out the window as we drove further into the forest.

He stooped the car in a small clearing. I looked around, we were surrounded by trees.

He pulled the trunk open, revealing a young blonde woman. No more than 20 years old. She was tied up and squirming around, her face showing pure terror.

I turned away, but Chandler kicked the back of my leg. "Help me, damn it!" I sighed, helping him take the woman from the trunk, but she was squirming so much that I dropped her legs. She broke into a sprint, and Chandler yelled.

He pulled out a gun I'd never knew he owned. Aiming, he shot her in the leg, making her fall to the ground instantly.

"Chandler!" I screamed. He laughed, reloading his gun. Reaching back into the trunk, he grabbed a gasoline can, and pulled matches from his pocket.

"Give me a cigarette, babe," I gave him one from my sweater, then he lit it with a match, smiling as the smoke drifted out of his mouth.

In one hand Chandler held the can of gas, the other was shoving his gun into his belt line. He took his cigarette between his teeth.

I stood silently as he dumped gasoline over the screaming woman. With no emotion on his face at all, he lit a match and tossed it onto her body. She was engulfed in flames, and her agonizing screams vibrated through my ears. Chandler smiled.

"She's loud."

With that he pulled his gun from his waist and shot her in the head once. Twice. Three times, then once more.

Chandler began walking away, taking his last inhale of the cigarette then throwing it on the grass. I followed behind quickly.

I just watched someone get murdered.

//

Chandler wasn't always bad. He used to be normal, until his sister died. After that, the killings started.

After they caught him, he was sent to a mental asylum, where I was allowed only small visits with him.

I could see him deteriorating. The asylum was making him worse, not better.

I missed him.

//

Soon enough I'd realized nothing Chandler did was bad. He did it for joy. He enjoyed it.

How can that be so bad?

After seeing him murder someone before my eyes, I had this strange feeling.

Like, a burning desire.

To kill.

//