Eleven Tasks

Agony in Mind

I slipped back into the cold sheets of the master bed, shaking and terrified. I was utterly sick at the thought of my actions I had committed in the last few hours. I lay still but awake, the memories from then and the past past surfacing in my dark mind. I was wide awake with fear and regret.

I murdered a child. A living, breathing, female kid, just like my daughters. Everyone would be oblivious that I was the despicable serial killer, but it will forever haunt me. His face of confusion and pain as he asked me desperately why I had to do this, that I hadn't need to. The sheer terror of the little girl's face as I raised the small object that would forever end her life. My face was stained with agony as the memories replayed themselves and hallucinations fogged up my sense of reality.

There she stood at the edge of my bed, hand held out, begging me to come join her. Saying that it was my time. That my family would join to. But then the Master, mask hiding his facial expressions, warned not to, that he'd make everyone I love suffer.
Then the oldest victim. Robert Croose. He molested my child at four. The cruelest, manipulative, evil creature. A forty year old man who was the first person ever that I have murdered.

By will.

I sat up, tears coating my eyes and clutching my chest as a familiar feeling returned. I started crying and hiccuping and gasping for air, lungs burning and unable to calm down. A panic attack. My breaking point. I was going to have to live with this for at least ten more days. I didn't think I can ever live with what I've done. My tears left my eyes to race into the corners of my mouth, and I gagged and coughed as memories came to surround me like smoke, fogging my vision, blinding me. My husband woke up and noticed my distressed state.

He caressed my and clutched me tightly to his chest. I sobbed and he sushed me, his soothing voice promising me that everything would be alright. That everything was ok, I had nothing to worry about. I sobbed a pathetic, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry!"
He rocked me gently and told me that he loved me. He loved me and nothing could ever change that.

Little did he know the ruthless serial killer hiding deep inside his sweet, thoughtful wife. A killer that is being brought back into the world to take out lives that wronged her, to carry out sickening operations. I was truly a monster. But I felt like I could physically not help it. I was doing this for my family, but the way I carry the 'tasks' out...

I felt guilty. So guilty that I had felt a bit of enjoyment during my spree. I killed her. Her, her, and him. Sure he had been a bad guy, but it was nothing worthy of a gruesome murder like his. I didn't feel bad then. I had felt energized, excited. My body released enzymes of pleasure just as I thought about the way that I had snatched his life right from under him.

Sure I was doing it for my family, but what about his family? I couldn't live with the guilt and pain I felt. And as much as I hated it, I had to do it. I had to.

To return to serial killer manipulative, determined me. Guess there would be no more church going.