THE COIN COLLECTOR
She was a nice mark; I could hear the coins jangling in her pockets as she walked down the dark sidewalk alone. I followed her until she went around the corner then I pulled out my rope and wrapped it around my hands. I came around the corner; she was standing there changing the song on her IPod when I struck. I choked her, listening to her guttural screams and choked gargling, I felt her struggle until the life went out of her and she stopped struggling. Then I held the rope there until she stopped breathing, then I let her fall to the ground and retrieved the change out of her pockets to add to my collection. I took out my knife and started to carve out her bones. So soft skin, cuts like a warm knife through soft butter, and such hard bones they will make excellent coins after I finish carving.
I left the skin there, but I took the bones home and carefully added the coins I collected to my piles. I noticed there was something wrong at my house. There was a quarter on my penny pile. My son has been messing in here again. He doesn’t know how the coins are collected he just likes to play with them, he knows it aggravates me. Maybe I’ll have to take him on a hunt soon. Show him the family business. I set my bones down next to my work table where there are solid white coins sitting. Replicas of coins I collected recreated through their owner’s bones.
I sit down and turn on the news, the story of my hunt is on. They found the skin quicker than I had planned. The story continues. “The serial killer dubbed ‘the coin collector’ has struck again, this time he has killed an innocent young woman with two children at home. The iconic and infamous bone penny also dubbed ‘the lost or forgotten penny’ was found in what remained of her mouth. If you have any information related to this murder or any of the other twenty-five that has occurred please call your local police department and remember don’t walk outside alone at night.” The reporter said. Stupid news reporter. I have killed groups before. I always carry extra pennies.
I finish the news and go to my work table. I pick up my whittle knife and a nice skull plate. They always make excellent quarters. I start to whittle out a couple coins, when I realize what I’ve done. I have killed yet another innocent person, I need to stop, and I know it’s wrong and I need to stop, but the voices in my head won’t let me. Every time I hear someone walk by with that change, jingling and jangling the voices tell me how much change that might be, and what a great addition they would be to my collection. Whispering to me sweet lies about how it puts them out of their misery, and makes them happy with god. I need to sleep. There’s carving to do tomorrow.
The next day I wonder from my workshop into the kitchen where my kids are eating homemade cookies and milk and arguing over who has to go help their grandpa and why does it have to happen every day. I was fighting with the voices so I left my children to it and went to work. When I arrived at work where I put on my policeman’s uniform and went to my desk. I was assigned to the coin collector case. This is the part that I don’t need the voices to tell me is good. Seeing the kill later and working very close on your own case is more exciting than the hunt. That feeling when you watch the people hunting you get cut off at every turn and they don’t know why. It’s just plain exciting.
After work I was walking home. Of course it was dark, I lived in Canada it got dark quick. That’s when I saw them. Two people had pulled their car off to the side of the road and were sleeping. They looked so happy and peaceful. Especially the woman, she looked like an innocent little fairy that nothing bad happens to. That was until the voices started talking in my head again. They kept saying how easy targets they are and how much change is in that car. And how the hunt feels, I couldn’t help myself. The next thing I know I was strangling the guy. He fought but I subdued him. When I moved on to the girl, she didn’t put up a fight she woke up and faintly struggled, but no real fight. Then a fist slammed into the side of my head. I fell off the girl and saw the guy getting out of the car and opening the trunk. He pulled out a tire iron, so I grabbed my knife and we started to fight. He clipped me on the shoulder with the tire iron. Then I got him in the gut with my knife and he fell to the ground. I pulled out my rope and put it across his neck and strangled him again. Except this time I held it across his throat till he went cold. Then I grabbed my knife and skinned him. I put his bones in my leather bag and went to skin the girl.
She was gone, the girl was missing! I never slipped up this bad, I needed to find her quick. I put a penny in the guy’s shredded mouth. Then I heard it, the slight whisper of something being picked up off the ground. I whirled around and saw the girl lifting the tire iron. She swung it at me and hit me in the head. She screamed “That was for my husband you stupid coward!” She threw the tire iron at me and ran. I chased after her. That little witch made me bleed, I am going to carve coins out of her skin and bone while she is still alive! Except I lost her, I was stumbling and couldn’t see through the blood in my eyes. But I know where she’s going. She’ll run to the police station where I’ll be waiting. I head over to the station to wait. She comes but she is already with another cop. I’m caught; I have to run, tonight. I run as fast as I can home. When I come in my wife is still up and she asks me why I’m so late. I couldn’t take her with me when I moved so I told her I had a surprise. I blindfolded her, and slowly pulled out my rope. I put it around her soft neck which I kissed lovingly every day. The voices in my head are telling me to kill her, but I’m fighting them. I don’t need to kill her. I can tell her to wait here, and I could grab my stuff and run.
Then she spoke, “honey are you ok?” I lost concentration and couldn’t control myself. I was strangling her. At first she fought, her body bucking and fighting, and then the fighting stopped and she stopped moving. Right before she died, she said “I still love you”. I kissed her and went upstairs. My son was standing there, horrified. He asked why I killed mommy. I guess I got to take him hunting after all. The voices had complete control now. They made me pick him up and throw him out the window. He screamed the whole way down. I looked out the window down at him. Even dead he looked at peace. There was a dark crimson puddle oozing out around him. He looked like a saint. I pulled my head back in and went to gather my stuff. I grabbed a couple bone pennies and put them in my wife and son’s mouths. As I take one last look around the memories come flooding back I look at the porch swing where me and my wife had our first kiss and then up at the tree stand I built for my son when he was 6. So I run inside, and grab my son’s blue baby blanket and then I gently tucked him in for his eternal slumber. When I go inside to grab my bag I remember, my older son is still asleep upstairs. I creep up the steps and take my rope.
My eldest son had fallen asleep holding the new cellphone we had gotten him this morning. He looked so happy. It made me happy that he would die looking happy. So instead of choking him I took out my knife and stabbed him in the heart. He barely had time to react before I pulled out the knife and he bled to death. I wiped the knife off on his blanket. Then I had to run to the police station to grab my wallet and gun. When I got there, and walked in. I was hoping no one would recognize me that was a mistake. The second I walked in everyone shut up. They knew, so I ran and got in my car. I drove until I got to the border. Then I pulled out my favorite book with its missing covers and cracked spine. I opened it to reveal a map. I took out the map and picked a new place to go. I’ve already been along the east and west coast. I think I’ll try the plains. Someplace like Oklahoma or Kansas.
please vote and comment! :) the actual novel im writing over this short story idea can be found here http://www.wattpad.com/12573507-the-coin-collector-full-story
-Matthew Hayward
