The Mind Of A Serial Killer

Chapter 2: The Anniversary

~Transition into First Person POV~

"When did the voices start?"
"After my mother died. After I murdered her. "
"Why?"
I took a long, deep breath, letting the air flow out of my lungs like a wild river.
"We are all monsters on the inside, doc. You, me, everyone. "
"Not everyone is going around murdering their mothers either. "
I cracked a small smile, shoving my hands into my pockets.
"Well, doc, I believe our time is done here. "
And with my final words, I stood tall, my hands slipping out of my pockets. I could see his pupils dilate in fear as I flicked open the knife with ease.
"Go join my mother. "
~~~
The figure crept up the stairs, each weighty step making the old boards groan in age. They came upon the locked door, easily slipping out the key from a concealed pocket and guiding it to the knob, carefully unlocking the door and forcing the squeaky door to open fully, pouring light against their body. Red hair fallen into tired eyes, blood staining splattered recklessly against his clothes, hands dripping with crimson. The sun had begun to creep into the sky, just a sliver of its form revealed over the quite horizon. 

The day has arrived. 10 years later, and the blood was still matted on the furniture and rugs. The cry of desperation ringing throughout the old wooden floor boards. Cracked and shattered glass scattered in the crime scene. The eerie stillness embracing him, as if a mother to a child. The cold air brushed past him, as he moved within the space. The grin once plastered on his mouth now slowly slipping as he continued to venture further in the room, until he fully stopped. 

He took a long breath, squeezing those crimson orbs shut tightly. The sound of glass and the like smashing against the wall, shattering into  pile of rough edged shards. His lip twitched as he could swear he felt a icy cold breath blow onto the back of his neck, making goosebumps rack down his pale skin. The floorboards squeaked, as if someone was walking across the aged boards, yet his legs kept him rooted to his place. The light above his head flickered, swaying back and forth nonstop as if a child was playing with it. 

His eyes snapped open upon hearing a woman's laughter echo off the walls, but when he glanced about the room, he saw no one.  As quickly as the anomalies came, they vanished just as quick. He knew exactly who it was, who haunted these wooden boards and blood stains. The same monster who brought this man upon the world. His lips curled into a deviant smile. 

"Yes, We shall find another before long, I promise." He chuckled, his eyes lighting up with blood thirsty look. 

Frowning, he glanced back t the door, knowing he had yet to clean up after his last mess. "Of course, Cant bring a nice lady here with the room a mess."He grinned evilly, finally moving his once grounded feet. He strode back to the basement, flinging up the door and rushing down the stairs, eagerly looking upon the dangling corpse. Most of the blood had drained, and the organs once hanging and dangling from the remainder of "Alexandria" had dropped into the bloody bath tub. He reached down to a simple black plastic bucket and pulled out a pair of latex cleaning gloves, sliding them onto his hands and shoving them into the tub. He grabbed bountiful handfuls of the gore, merely and carelessly tossing them into said bucket to be disposed of. Next, he stretched up and pulled the lifeless body from the metal meat hook, carrying it over his shoulder and across the morbid torture room. Gingerly he tossed the body onto a silver table, complete with built in hand and feet cuffs to restrain the poor soul found lying here. 

"Now this, is truly, the best part."He sighed contently, taking off the bloody gloves and putting them to the side as we wandered over to the cement wall where a little metal cart sat. On top sat a little metal tray, containing all kinds of disturbing and brutal instruments. With a grin, he grabbed what seemed to be a weird pair of forceps, a knife, and a carving spoon of sorts.  With dark intentions, he returned back to the table, and proceeded to loom over the lifeless corpse. With precision, he used the forceps to pry open and hold the right eye lid.  Behind the lid was a glassy eye, its natural green color clouded with death, pupils wide and dilated in fear. The man grinned at the sight. Carefully, he used the spoon to snake behind the eyes, obsessively careful not to damage the perfection of the orb, as the eye popped out of its socket thin muscles holding it from completely falling out. With the scalpel, he easily cut through the muscle, catching the eyeball before it was contaminated by the bloody floor.  

He smiled widely, releasing a pleasurable sigh. He continued onto the other eyes, this one being of the crimson color as his own eyes.  And with the same care, he dislodged it from its residency, and cut it from its attaching muscle. 

With absolute care, he brought them over to a tall wooden cabinet, and with gentle care, he opened the door. Upon the numerous shelves were jars, containing different assortment of pieces of bodies. There was an ear, a tongue, eve a few loose teeth, all suspended in a jelly like substance, and each having its own marked year. There was one vacancy, for the current year, and with glee, he dropped the two eyes into the open jar. Swiftly,he closed the cabinet with an evil smirk and a dangerous glint in his eyes. 

"Time to find her." He chuckled, soon evolving into a full bit of psychotic laughter.