Death of an Idiot

Killer:

His hands are around my throat, making it hard for air to come into my lungs. After flailing about my fist made contact with his face. The crack of his jaw vibrated through my arm. He stumbled back. I quickly unsheath the smooth blade, and walked slowly over to the poor idiot.

He stood up and tried to tackle me, but I quickly dodged. Black spots blotted out my vision momentarily from the movement from lack of air. The idiot stumbled on his own feet and hit his forehead on the corner of his overly done desk. The ego filled desk that ruins people lives day in and day out.

The idiot lay unconscious with blood dripping from the gash on his forehead, which he caused. I kneel by his side, my hand gripping the hilt. I place the razor-sharp tip to his neck, putting pressure. I glided the blade across his neck, making it smile as the blood poured out.

His beating heart stopping and the precious red liquid that we all need spilled out of his chest. He once said I stabbed him I'm the back, he was close. I slit his throat. There was a satisfying skidding sound as it pushed through the veins of his neck.

His blood spilled from his neck, painting the wooden floor red. His dead eyes, his cold dead eyes stared back at mine. I glared at the man, when a realization hit me. I did this, I stabbed this pompous, vile man in the chest. Instead of the expected grief or remorse, I felt empowerment fill my chest cavity, warming my long cold heart.

"Well, Mr. High-and- mighty, have you gotten off your high horse yet." My melodic voice strangled from the brief scuffle.

Of course he had no response to this, I my be a murderer, but I am not insane. "Rest in peace dear Idiot, and remember this is our little secret." My final words to the still warm corpse as I hid him in his small closet.

I walk out to the street of my small country town, all the people whom known me all my life not even dawning on the idea that one among them is a killer, that one of their own is to be feared.

A block away and still audible, his secretary's scream pierced the air. As it did so, I sigh. Free at last.

The thing is that freedom comes with a price, and like many others, have exceeded the price of the item. As I reach my home, and as I reach my bathroom to wash off the now dried blood. With each splash of water, the nervousness retreated to almost nothing. I put on a turtleneck sweater to hid the bruises around my neck.

As I was just about to go back to the seen and call the police, an knock sounded through the room. I opened the door, annoyed because a delay could jeopardized the entire plan. I look through the peephole. No one was there. I hate children these days.

I left and entered my car, best for a quick escape if all goes wrong. I reach the mayor's office. I enter the door, "Hey, Jeb. Sorry I missed you earlier, I left my house keys here. Can I come in?" I ask the guard posted to guard posted to "guard" the mayor. He didn't do such a great job. He always goes on a smoke break at three. It's amazing how ignorant people can be in a small town.

"Sure, no problem. Make it quick though. Mr. Mayor gots a meetin' in a few minutes." Replied Jeb.

I rush in the room and scream. " Jeb call the police! The Mayors been murdered!"

The knock sounded through the door again. Confused I called, "Jeb! Why did you knock on the door!?! The Mayors dead!"

I jerk open the door, there stood something unimaginable, indescribable. There stood a man, no not exactly a man. It's in a black cloak, with.... I can't describe it. Imagine your worst nightmares, the bloodiest and most horrible fears you've ever had, no mankind's ever had.