As I lay staring into the dark. Haunted by my past, my alarm sound echoed into police sirens sweat dripped down my face worried if is this the day the trail of dead bodies will be unearthed. The little sounds freaked me out of the creaks of the floorboards when someone passes my apartment door. My wife was in a deep sleep unbothered by the full-blown meltdown happing right next to her. The tv switched on breaking news appeared across the screen my heart was beating questions flooded my mind did I take them far out? Was there a witness that saw me carry rugs of bodies deep into the woods? And then the reporter spoke.
"Sad news this afternoon, five bodies were found in Crest meadows," he said.
Turning over on my side my body turn cold the room was closing in on me the ceiling crawled with images of the half-decade skinny females they have not eaten in years tick tick they tapped their long wrinkly fingers all in unsync while chanting "Chester Meadow six to the left three to the right," said the undead. I replied, "Your death by my hand brings me joy, I'm not afraid of the ghost that visits me at night but the fear of getting caught," he yelled.
"I got work in the morning, keep it down honey," his wife said. As I rubbed the back of her head kissed her neck and made my way out of the bedroom the shadows were home to the victim's souls seeking the vengeance of my sins. Their bones cracked as they slide their bodies twisting and tossing amongst the walls the noise of the busy street below cleared my mind. Opened the cabinets pulled out a glass cup and whiskey poured me a drink and headed towards the balcony sliding the sliding doors open. The moon brightens the night sky leaning over the edge and finishing up what may be the last drink I take was an unnecessary satisfaction to deluge my last breath of fresh air and freedom. Took out my phone and started to make my suicidal note
"I am not sorry for the pain and death that was caused by the time that I had on this earth, Brenda, Tasha, Amanda, Heather, and Ray was amongst the few of my masterpiece called art, I took my time when it came to killing these five wish I could go into details for the family, but the police are coming to take me in. Their skulls were engraved with the initials of my favorite role model, T.D. (Ted Bundy). If only we could share a kill Creak Meadow six to the left three to the right where you find the peasants you call college students in loving Memory, Rick,"
"NYPD, open up," the officers shouted. As I dropped the cup glass shattered everywhere, the door blew open and the officers rushed in guns pointed at me one sigh turned around and smiled with my hands in the air and took a step backward
"Stop or we will shoot," he said. When I refused, a shot from the officer's gun struck me in the shoulder, at which point I grunted in pain and threw myself headfirst off the balcony as my body flew to death, I could not live a caged life. My only response is to smile, as I recall all the pain and sorrow that was made of me by my family. Closed my eyes reaching closer towards the pavement something catches my face inches from the sidewalk thunder structured and time was reverted backward sucking me back to where I began the thunder slowed up as I passed back birds flying in the opposite direction my head whooshed back as my body dumped hard on the balcony in front of the officers yelling. The bullet yanked out of my shoulders, and a spark from the automatic lit up the night as the bullet entered back into the chamber. The officers zoomed out the front door and the door popped back onto its hinges everything went black, and the TV turned on. The note I had written unwritten itself as the broken glass rearranged itself back into my hand.
"Man killed his wife, Rick is his name your time is up," she said.
Confused about what just happened, looked over unaware of the bloody knife that was in my hand, blood was all over my Wife's hair shucked her, and spoke.
"Honey, wake up," he said. As I pulled her overseeing that her neck was sliced open and left the bedroom. The front door blew open officers swarmed in, the knife still in my hand as I walked forward to the police blood all over my clothes a shoot fired hitting me in the throat. Felled to the ground blood splattered out my mouth hands around my neck applying pressure as my vision was in and out five blurry images surrounded me. As they lifted their undead fingers they shrieked
"Time has come sins must be paid," they chanted. One dropped to her knees right next to me inched over to my ears and whispered, "Vengeance is mine," she said.
The life exited my body an officer turns me overseeing a brenned mark on the back of my neck saying "Creak Meadow five bodies rick masterpiece"
YOU ARE READING
Serial Killer Burdens
Short StoryA man haunted by his recent murders of five college students thinks they are dead, and he is free nothing is dead when anger and an unsolved case are at hand, he is visited by five of the victim's dead spirits seeking vengeances for the gruesome Mud...
