Murder In The Dark (Michael Clifford)

Chapter Three - Whatsername

A/N This is a filler and it tells us more about the murderer's past before he was tortured.

CHAPTER THREE

~No Point Of View~

He was just twelve when he first met the devil.

The devil came to him in a dream, to entice him.

'Come with me, rule Hell with me.' He'd said, smirking and showing pointy white teeth.

He didn't know how to get to Hell so he asked. He got no answer and couldn't stop thinking about the dream he had had. It scared him but fascinated him also. 

He had the same dream every night for a week.

On the seventh night, when he dreamt it again, the devil said 'Come with me, rule Hell with me.'

'Yes, I will.' The boy had said. 

And then he was sucked into black, where he remained in stasis for six years, six months and six days.

Six six six. The number of the devil. 

So when he came out of stasis, he was an eighteen year old boy. A good looking eighteen year old boy. Very good looking indeed.*

*Sorry I may have overdone that bit there :-}

The now-a-man-but-was-a-boy-once said he wanted to know what had happened to him. He gasped in surprise at his new lower voice.

The devil said he had fallen for a trick and now he was a slave. 

'You'd better do as I bid.' the devil warned him. 

 'No! Let me go!' The man cried, then gasped in surprise at his lower voice again. He still hadn't gotten used to it.

While in stasis, the boy grew. Not needing food or water. He dreamt all the while of home and memories.

Back home, he'd been a budding songwriter. He'd written hudreds of songs and music to accompany them in his head, whilst in stasis. He played one about not worrying about the bad things but focusing on the good thing in life.

Am I even alive?

The devil's eyes blackened and the man began the feel the most intense and horrible pain. Like he was burning and freezing at the same time.

He was driven beyond the safety walls of his mind, beyond sanity. 

The devil seemed pleased with his work and gave him a job.

'I would like you to collect souls for me. Not enough people are dying. Nowhere near enough. I am hungry. Get me souls!' And a black knife and gun appeared in the man's hands.

'I don't care how you do it! The way you take someone's soul is to kiss their lips as they die.'

Kill them carefully. Don't want to swallow blood coming up their throat.

All he had left was instincts and the ability to think and speak.

He was sent back to his home.

He killed his family, the few people that he remembered before his "treatment".

He killed them pretty easily. 

He sneaked up behind his father and snapped his neck in a swift movement. Then he took his soul.

His mother was less easy. He chased her into the downstairs bathroom.

He kicked the door down and she was against the wall. She started sobbing and she sank down to the floor crying out,

'Why? WHY?' She screamed. She hadn't recognised him as he had changed so much. He had been missing for six and a half years so they had given up the search for him years ago. 

Then she spread her arms wide and put her chin up, still weeping, as if offering herself to him.

He felt no emotion but tears blurred his vision.

What? Why do I weep? 

He got out his knife, black as the night, and stabbed her belly three times. Each time he stabbed a sharp, high-pitched scream came out of his mother's mouth.

Her eyes opened wide in recognition. 

'My son.' She croaked.

She fell to the floor and writhed before finally going still.

He pressed his lips to hers and felt her soul leaving her body in a last, shuddering breath. He breathed that breath in. That was the soul. The Final Breath.

His sister was in bed, listening to music through her headphones and checking her FaceBook. Her music was too loud. He could hear it from the other side of her door.

He opened the door.

She didn't notice.

He crept up behind her and snapped her neck. He took her soul.

He felt a high, with three souls inside him.

He looked at her computer briefly. Something caught his eye.

A party invite. He decided to read up on it. Dozens of people were meant to be there. Harvest time.