Killing Mind - Editing

Part One

The foul stench of rotting meat laced the stagnant air. Chains bound dozens of human carcasses, men and woman of all ages and sizes to the walls of the underground warehouse.
Suspended upside down, their arms and legs spread out with little skin left to cover their dignity.
Intestines and organs hung limply from the victims, spilling onto the floor like mashed up food, and crimson adorned the walls as if an artist were displaying their masterpiece. Sharp instruments and objects littered the table at the center of the room.
Behind it stood a mirror, where Marcus caught a glimpse of his reflection. He looked like a zombie who had not long risen back from the dead. With a vacant stare he obediently picked up a meat cleaver with his right hand. Slowly he walked over to the hanging bodies and admired each one before stopping at a young man.
Raising the cleaver high in the air he slashed at the head and instantly decapitated it in one swift movement.
Thick blood blurred the edges of his vision and that's when it ended.

Marcus awoke in a puddle of icy sweat. He shivered on the damp sheets. Panic stricken he checked the time on the alarm beside his bed, 3:00am. Like clock work.
For the past few weeks he had experienced the same terrifying dream that filled him with fear.
In this nightmare he found himself deep within the bowels of a dank basement in an aged abandoned warehouse. Several corpses littered the decrepit squalor. Sometimes he would take live people down there and kill them. But more often than not they would already be dead.

He wasn't in control of himself in these dreams and he didn't want to tell anyone incase they thought he was insane. With each dream he became more concerned as to why he had these disturbing, frightening visions. Relieving himself and splashing his face with cool water he returned back to his sodden bed where he managed to sleep soundly. The nightmare would not continue tonight.

His alarm clock rang at 7:00am as usual, he got up and ready for work. Marcus Daniels thought he was a fairly normal guy. Twenty eight years old, tall, dark and knew he was handsome. He'd had many girlfriends in the past to prove it.

He was originally born and brought up in New York where he lived for most of his childhood. He moved to San Francisco three years ago to start his career as an estate agent. He was brainy, with plenty of knowledge on how to sell a six bedroom mansion, and a fast learner.
No partner or children yet. He had broken up with his girlfriend of three years when he left Boston. Claire had had high expectations and wanted a different life, unfortunately one that Marcus couldn't provide. His only downside, was his mental health. The constant silent battle he fought every day. Marcus had suffered from OCD and severe anxiety since he was a teenager.

After many visits to a psychiatrist, he had concluded that the death of Marcus's brother had brought it on. He had been incredibly close to Lewis, who was three years older than him. He had doted on Marcus. Sadly he got involved in hard drugs and had an accident. Since then Marcus had been unstable, but his daily dose of medication helped him stay on top of things. But recently the dreams had been getting worse and sometimes he'd take two of his prescribed pills to keep them at bay. But they didn't seem to be helping anymore.

He grabbed a light breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast and did his daily ritual which included changing his shirt three times until he felt comfortable in it, turning the oven off and on six times and checking the door was locked eight times before he set off for work in his Audi A1. Work was business as usual. He flirted with Brooke and Kayleigh the two new employees. Sold two properties in the space of three hours and his best friend Billy came to visit him with a dozen doughnuts from Krispy Kreams. An average day at the office.

"You sure I'm not bothering you?" Billy mumbled whilst chewing a mouthful of glazed doughnut.

"No you're cool. I've just sold a property which was worth one point five million so I'm feeling pretty great right now. Shouldn't you be at the station?"

Billy worked in the forces for ten years at the local police station. He'd started his career at the young age of eighteen and recently celebrated being promoted to a patrol officer. He and Marcus had formed a strong bond since they met at a bar on Jones' Street.

"I've got an extended lunch break today because I've already made one arrest this morning. You know man this promotion has so many perks, you get discounts at Gamescape and Krispy Kreams. What more could you want?"

Marcus laughed and leant back in his leather chair, "You and your doughnuts and video games."

"You know me! How is your OCD today? Hope you haven't been taking extra meds."

Marcus hesitated, "It hasn't been too bad today. Quite bad over the weekend but I can cope."
He wasn't sure if he should tell Billy about his dreams.

"Fair enough," His pager beeped. "Sorry man I gotta take this. The Sargent may need me." He got up and headed out the door.

"See ya." Marcus turned back to his desk and returned back to working out the cost of his next potential sale.

Not long after, his own voice in his head whispered to him to search on the computer why he had been dreaming about dead bodies, so he did. He found several different answers, one article on a mystical looking website said that it indicated fear and transformations in the dreamer. He couldn't work out what that meant in his case. What was he fearful of? Another psychological site read that seeing a corpse or dead body in a dream may represent something inside said person or some aspect of ones self that has died. But they are reluctant to forget about or bury it in the past. The last morbid site said that he'd lost his mind and would be destined to become a serial killer.
He found the latter oddly funny and highly doubted that was true.

After work finished at six, Marcus met Billy for a drink at their favourite bar in town.
They were discussing Billys day when a dark thought popped into Marcus's head.
Often his OCD would make him do things in a certain manner or order but this time it was more of a sinister voice.
It seemed to be telling him to do something bad. He'd never had such an intrusive thought before. It made him uneasy and Billy seemed to sense something wasn't right.

"You alright man?"

Marcus shook his head from side to side. "Yeah it's just bad thoughts again. No biggie." He didn't want his best friend to worry about him.

After buying another round of beers Marcus decided to head home, he lied and said he had a headache and wanted an early night.

When he got home he got ready for bed and splashed his face with cold water. Looking at himself in the mirror he noticed his face ashen and drowsy.
These thoughts are just irrational.
I must learn to ignore them, I am bigger than this.
Turning off the light he laid down in bed to rest. He hoped his dream would not return tonight.
But he was wrong.

Front cover designed by AuthorClarke

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