The Murder King (A First Draft)

Prologue: In Which Our Adventure Begins

        I’ll start from the beginning.  And I guess this is it.  I won’t tell you about my childhood, because it doesn’t matter.  The doctors and psychologists will tell you different, but they aren’t writing this.  So here we go.  Enjoy the ride and have fun.  Remember to buckle up.  It’s going to get a tad bit bumpy. 

*** 

July 24, 2008 

        The blood is dripping off my hands and down into the floor.  It isn't mine, but it still hurts.  I don't understand why they try to fight me.  I'm giving them a gift, aren't I?  They'll understand now, won't they?  Their bodies lie on the floor beneath me, eviscerated.  They'll understand now.  I pick up the knife and walk to the kitchen.  I fill the sink with water and throw the knife in, washing off the blood.  After this is done, I throw my clothes in the washer.  I have a few hours until anyone realizes that they're missing.  That's more than enough time to leave. 

***

        By the time the police arrived, he was gone.  The bodies lay on the floor, washed and their wounds cleaned.  They wondered where the son had gone, but they never found him.  He was the prime suspect in this case for a long time.  Over the next few years, more murders happened.  The killer was never found.  Every time the cops showed up, all the chores were done and the bodies were cleaned. 

*** 

        There was a time before Joshua.  Joshua evens me out and now I can stand the stupidity from people for a longer amount of time.  But before him, no one survived around me for extended periods.  Within a few days, they would all end up dead at my feet, with my knife buried in their chests.  Of course, I still haven't figured out why they all fought me so hard.  I was giving them a gift.  They didn’t have to survive in this world any more.  They didn’t have to fight.  I was helping them.