Go To Sleep

Chapter 6

Jeff the killer's point of view

I couldn't believe it. This goth girl was Violet. When she took her contacts out, I was confused. Then she took off her choker, and I knew it was her. I had marked her with a deep gash in her neck that day, and now it's a pink scar. I had found her, finally.

I was about to grab her when the cops came busting in the through the door. They all gasped as they got a good look at my face when I turned around. They all took their guns out and I signaled that as my cue to get the hell out of there. I got up quickly and ran across the room as they started shooting at me. I ducked and dodged most of them as I jumped out the window, taking shards of glass and wood chips out with me. I ended up diving head first into a large bush. It didn't hurt much. I hopped out and started running around the back of the building. Hopping fences isn't easy, but I managed to jump over this wooden six foot no problem. The sirens stopped, but I kept running. They might have taken my car.

I couldn't control my anger as I was running, stabbing the side of some random Volkswagen, making a gash. The siren went off and I ran faster. I had her, she was right there in my arms. How could the cops ruin such a moment? They were probably consoling her right now, talking to her, touching her. I don't want them to be near her. She's mine. That thought made me slow down a bit. She's mine? No, but she will be.

I hid in some bushes a couple blocks down. I really wanted my car back, Violet too. It sounds weird to say it but, I want her. I've always wanted her. I want her blood, her eyes, her heart. I want to feel her skin, I want her entirely. Also because my untouched reputation of being a killer might fail if she's still living. However, I couldn't imagine myself cutting her in harmful ways. I sighed and held up my head with a fist. She had kept the knife. Why? She had even gone through the trouble of locking it up where no one could ever see it. WHY? It's not like It was something important. It was just a knife I had used on her parents.

I guess she's different. The first time she saw me, she never screamed or pleaded for her life. She just, sat there. I was so surprised, yet intrigued. She was only one. Right now, she actually showed me that it was her. She risked getting killed to reveal herself. I would have killed her if I didn't know.

She was only fourteen when she saw all of that. Her parents were murdered right in front of her eyes. She has matured so much in these past months, I didn't recognize her at all. I groaned in distress and punched the dirty ground, making my knuckles crack and sting in response.

I swore under my breath and held my hand protectively. "Damn you!" I yelled as the images danced around in my head over and over. The red and blue lights coming in through the window, Violet shaking from fear in her new "look." Anger surged through me and all I could think about to make me feel better was to take yet another victim. I needed more blood shed, more screaming and crying. Yes, my ears still stung a bit as the high-pitched whistle grew louder at the thought and slowly faded, but I didn't care.

Those cops are going to regret doing this! I stood up abruptly and doubled over almost instantly. One of the bullets had pieced through my stomach, making my lower bodied clothes a bloody mess. I sighed yet again for the hundredth time and headed out, making sure I wasn't being followed.

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"Go to sleep." I whispered as I raised my knife above my head with both hands. The man screamed like a little girl, and held his arms up with the last of his strength. I laughed loudly at his desperate try to live. I sliced his arms with one swing, making him scream again and drop his arms. His tears and uncontrollable sobbing made me giddy inside.

"Please.... Don't kill me...." He said in between sobs. The deep gashes in his arms bled more and more until his bed was practically covered in it. They always say the same things. Who are you, what do you want, why are you doing this, please don't kill me. The answer is simple, I'm doing this, simply because I WANT TO! I swung my knife down and sliced open his ribcage making his blood shoot out as I laugh uncontrollably. He gurgled and threw up blood.

He gasped one last time before I ripped out his heart and lungs making him die in a slow, painfully, agonizing death. I let out the breath I realized I was holding and removed my knife from his chest. Satisfied, I licked it clean.

After a while of staring at the lonely, fat man, I dipped two fingers in his blood and began to write on the wall.