James

I saw James grin for a split second, then everything went black. I always said he would be the death of me, I never meant it literally.

We were only seven when we met. At first we didn't really speak to each other, he didn't really talk to anyone. Over the course of the next year we grew closer, eventually we were inseparable.

My friends didn't like James really, well I guess that's an understatement considering they told him to go away(or words to that effect) literally every time he he joined us.

After the end of that year it was just us two, I'd given up on my other friends and all the drama that seemed to follow them everywhere. It was simple with James, he always knew what I wanted and I could tell what he was thinking. It was almost as if we were the same person.

I had always found that James had a rather strange obsession with murderers. I understood this, however, as I to found the circumstances surrounding murders to be fascinating.

For James's sixteenth birthday I had bought him a collection of books filled with the most interesting facts about some of his favourite murder cases. I am sure he read every one. Not any on the day he received them though as we ad spent all day watching crime documentaries.

Over the next few days he told me about all the new information he had learned from the books. They really were fascinating.

After a couple of months he started acting a bit...off. He often had periods of time in which he would be more reserved but this, this was different. He appeared to be contemplating something. He wrote a lot. I never saw what he wrote.

Soon other weird things started happening, people started just...disappearing.

After the first three I thought he had some thing to do with it.

After another one I was sure. You see all theses people only had one thing in common, they all laughed at James.

I confronted him about it. Tried to make him stop. He wouldn't. He couldn't. But now I was involved to. We went to the park where this one girl always went to on Saturday mornings. Alone. I didn't want to. I didn't have a choice. James came up behind her and dragged her into the adjacent forest through to an old wooden hut the whole time muffeling her screams with his hand.

When he arrived I was already there with a piece of cloth and two ropes. First I stuffed her mouth with the cloth. Then handed one rope to James so he could tie her feet to the legs of a chair whilst I bound her hands. He went to the  chest in the corner of the room and drew a hand gun. He stood point blank range and shot her in the back of the head. I still hear the ringing if the  gun in my ear.

The next one was similar. Then he planned another. This time was different, he wanted to hurt as many people as possible, he wanted to plant a bomb in the school. I knew he would do it. But I didn't want to be involved.

I never wanted to be involved.

"No, you've gone t-too far already, y- you can't do this" I  stuttered.

"What are you talking about, these people cause misery every day, you've seen what they do to people like us! People that are different." He said confidently, with no hint of wavering in his tone.

"You're worse, in front of all these people you pretend to be innocent but you're not, you're a psychopath!"

"I know." He said flatly with no emotion on his face.

I get little comfort from writing this down, the only thing that feels good about it is the possibility of people finding out the truth. What really happened to all those poor people.

I know I am next. He hasn't hidden it from me. It's all part of his sick, twisted game...

As I sit where all the others had I wonder how it will happen, like actually how fast is it how much pain is there?

James walked into the room with a cloth, a glass bottle and a rope. He poured the contents of the bottle onto the cloth and positioned the abrasive rope around my neck pulling it just tight enough to restrict movement in the neck. I wondered what was in the bottle. I realised as he picked up the cloth and brought it up to my face. Chloroform.

I saw him sweep his jet black fringe ti the side, then I heard him fiddle with his hand gun and then.
BANG! The gun goes off just as my eyes are about to close. He begins to fall, still griping the rope around my neck tightly so it starts to cause suffocation. He held the rope taught as he bled out onto the splintering wood floor.

I saw James smile for a split second, then everything went black.