Part Two

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Part 2.

“Hello, there”, I said in a soft, calm tone, much alike to a doctor speaking to a patient just out of a coma. “Can you hear me?”. The look of fear on his face didn’t confuse me, but what was confusing was when he spoke as if he was able to intimidate me.

“Wh-what the f-fuck is going on?!”, he almost shouted at me, while shaking in fear.

“You don’t know whats going on? Well, why don’t I inform you. Whats going on is your death. Those innocent young boys and girls, mutilated and raped, before their murder. Now, did they deserve any of that?” I say in a calm but more menacing tone than before.

“I couldn’t help it. Im sorry”, he said, as he started crying with fear. “I COULDN’T HELP IT! You have to understand.” He blubbered. As if he assumed I might feel sympathy for him. 

“I understand the need to do things. I understand the urge-” I said before he just cut me off.

“So you’ll let me go then?”, he said while smiling a little through his tears.

“You didn’t let me finish, I understand the urge for these things. I don't understand rape, I don’t understand harming innocent children, let alone an innocent human being at all, and mutilation? You’re a sicker bastard than Ive ever come across in my life.” I said through my teeth.

“I, um, I have money. Anything. Whatever you want, its yours!” He said quickly.

“Money, or whatever I want, it wont bring those kids back, it wont take away the pain they felt. It wont fix anything.” I said before stuffing a rag in his mouth and tying it in. He struggled. He moaned and cried, screaming through the rag but it didn’t stop me. The crying, screaming and begging never stopped him from doing this to his victims. It just made him worse. So why on Earth would I stop for him? He thrives off this pain, but from children. The irony amused me. I grabbed a small pipe and hit him multiple times in the liver. Most killers, I would just kill. Quickly. Almost painlessly. At most let them bleed to death. But this guy was worse. He deserve more than the pain I can give him. After the hit to the liver sent agony surging through his body I struck him with the pipe in the kidney, which is also unpleasant. I put down the pipe and punched him right in the nose as hard as I was able to, he was crying so much his neck is even soaked, I could hear his screams muffled through the rag in his mouth. Before he blacks out from fear or the pain, I decided I should kill him. I didn’t want to let him off without feeling his death. I pull out my knife, my favorite one. A nice little-ish folding knife. I flick it out and slash his throat. Blood starts to spill everywhere, which I didn’t overly mind. The car would be destroyed soon anyway. He remained alive, but only for a few minutes. What happened next changed everything. I saw someone. They saw me. Only for a split second. I made eye contact with a woman, whom must have known exactly what I was doing as she ran away and grabbed out her phone. She must be calling the police. I could see it in her eyes. It couldn’t end like this could it? After so many years. Acting so careful as to not be caught, and it was all just crashing down around me. I couldn’t go to jail. More so, I couldn’t have the police win. I couldn’t give in to them. They wouldn’t win that easily. It took just a second and then it was me who was dying. I sliced my own throat. My 85th kill was myself. It would only take a moment before Im gone. Only moment. I can hear the sirens of the police cars in the distance. Out of the corner of my eyes I see red and blue flashing. Slowly, as each pulse of blood flows out of me, I got less and less conscious. Until...I ...until Im to ...tired.

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