A Life of Chaotic Dread | Antisepticeye Encounter

Starless Murder

I laughed, a spatter of blood streaking across the bricks of the alleyway. Another check on the ever-growing list of heads cut. I took a section of the dead man's shirt and cleaned off the blood from my dagger, sheathing it at my hip. 'Monster' they call me. 'Assassin', 'Criminal', 'Sickened Psychopath'. All these names and they don't know what I look like. How lovely.

I flipped up the hood on my jacket and took off down the alley and out into the street. It was midnight, the air chilled by the early Autumn breeze of Chicago. Even though I didn't belong here, I chose to be. I was originally from Ireland, having possessed a man named Sean. It was by choice, of course. And if you, Reader, don't know me. My name's Anti. AntiSepticEye. Full-blown murderer and top-of-the-line psychopath.

I hopped over a puddle as a silver car passed by. It had rained a few hours earlier, so the streets were still freshly wet. I glanced out from under my hood. Nothing odd, except for a girl I knew walking down the street across from me. Was she following me?? I stopped, she stopped. She was following me. I quickly ducked back into another alley, disappearing behind a building.

Sure enough, she turned to run across the street.

--- {Three Weeks Earlier}---

Your POV

I was watching the TV as I made a sandwich in the kitchen, another murder case having popped up in the 'Starless Murder' file. The victim's throat had been slit and there were no defensive wounds, just as the last three victims. I sighed and took a bite, holding the sandwich between my teeth. School had been closed in fear of these attacks, but still, the murderer found victims in the early night hours.

Myself, being on my own for the first year of my life, was absolutely terrified. My college classes were at night, and I had no car to drive to the campus. And, having taken crime scene forensics recently, recognized that the murders were for the pleasure of the kill. Yet, no one could identify the murderer from DNA, as they left none. I was skeptical about the whole ordeal, but I came to the conclusion that the murderer is a male in his mid twenties. He might be either well-built or skinny but strong. Either way, the cuts were always careful and well-planned.

I finished my sandwich and decided to do some detective work. So, I grabbed my laptop and a can of F/s and got to work. All of the murders took place at night in alleyways without any cameras. Good, he was smart, but it wasn't a good thing for the police. It was done with a single weapon, probably a dagger or knife of some sort.

I pondered on for hours, making small notes on a piece of notebook paper. But by the time the clock reached three, I had begun to make sketches of what I thought he looked like. (I'll admit, some were pretty cute). One I finished made me stop. I looked closer at it, his face long and chiseled slightly, a bit of stubble on his chin. His eyes were sunk back a bit, his hair done up in a pointed way in the front, shaved at the sides. Why had I gone through to create this detail? Then my head began to pound and my vision blurred, another ferocious migraine pounding at my skull.

I sat back in agony, images of the same man flashing before my eyes. Only, he had a cruel but calm grin. His eyes were two different colors, his hair a bright green and brown. I didn't see what he wore, but soon the pain subsided. I let my head fall back and my eyes rest on the ceiling. Who ever this was, they knew I knew who they were...

---

Anti POV

I had finally woken up to the news blaring on the TV in my darkened apartment two days later. I kept it clean for the most part, my weapons stored under a pile of clean clothes. I stretched out, still wearing the bloodied hoodie from the murder. It always had a good feeling about it, the smell was almost nostalgic. And the taste, oh the wonderful taste, it always made me shudder just to think of it.

I ran a hand through my hair, rolling onto my feet. It was about one o'clock in the afternoon, the police having finally found the body less than an hour ago.

"Fookin' idiots." I laughed, "Can't do their job an' find a dead body. Let alone tha murderer responsible." I snatched an apple from the bowl on the kitchen counter, taking my knife and slicing off a piece. I popped it in my mouth, taking off my jacket and tossing it aside. I then grabbed my laptop and opened it, the map of where I've killed appearing. I smiled, it was always a good feeling to see how far I've come. But, only four dots spattered the over-head street. All four murders were planned well, but with unplanned victims.

I'd beforehand, mapped the city's alleyways for cameras, as I didn't want anyone to see my face. Being caught on camera was a murderer's worst nightmare. And for me, leaving traces wasn't a problem. I was a demon, a creation of Hell and the darkness of a man named Sean. But I could still walk around like any usual human. I blended in terribly, but I figured out that wearing a hood 24/7 in public was fine.

Just as I went to plot another kill, someone pounded on my door. The color left my face as I scampered around to gather my things. I could hear the police on the other side muttering. I shoved my laptop, clothes, and my knife into a bag and pried open the window. I hopped out onto the fire escape just as they broke open the door.

I flipped up my hood and ran down the metal path to the alleyway it led to. They police looked out the window as I rounded the corner, making me snicker. They had tried to find me a few times before, but I was too quick. This would be the third time. I didn't mind, moving around to abandoned apartment buildings was fun. Even if the rats had more authority than me. Oh well, I just grabbed a coffee and moved again.

I made it to the nearest coffee shop, going inside. A blast of coffee beans and muffins greeted me, making me smile. I ordered a drink and sat in a booth to wait. Leaning back, I listened in on conversations.

"Whoever he is, the murderer? He has a real problem."

"Oh, shush about that."

"How can I? This is the fourth in a week!"

Two women, arguing about me. How sweet.

"How can you tell it's a male?"

"I have a feeling. No woman could do this. Not without help. It's one guy."

"So you say. What does he look like, then?"

I could hear the rustling of paper. 

"You sketched him out?"

"Well... just his face... But I think this is what he looks like!"

The one sighed, "Y/n... you're not a detective. I don't want you on this case."

"But-!"

"No buts. You're not getting on this case and that's final." the woman stood, grabbed her things, and left. I stood as well, going to the counter to grab my drink. I then glanced at the girl left and knocked on the table.

"This seat taken?" I asked, trying to hide my accent.

She glanced at me then back at her papers, "N-no. You can sit."

I did, looking at the drawings. They looked exactly like me, right down to the colors. I was surprised, why didn't the other woman let her on the case? It would've made it interesting.

"Bad day?" I asked, taking a drink.

She nodded, "Yeah... my friend's the police chief and she won't let me on this murder case. Heck, I even have sketches.."

I nodded, "Well, if anything, I think it's fascinating."

She looked at me, oh shit, will she recognize me?? "The case?"

"Yeah. There's a singular guy doing this. I have a feeling."

"You too?? Oh, thank GOD." she shushed herself, "Wait... You seem familiar."

"Who me? Don't see why." I took another drink.

She held up the drawing to compare it to me. And before she could speak I reached across the table and covered her mouth.

"Say a word, I kill you..."