The Murder King (A First Draft)

March 26 & 27, 2010

        This would be Joshua's second murder.  Since the first one, he has shown a desire for killing people who had bad habits or did bad things. People and their consciences.  Of course, he didn't say anything out loud.  It was just the way he acted when Jack and I talked about killing and our MO, or Modus Operandi.  This would be a dual murder.  Joshua would be killing Alistair McGee, a loser musician with a bad drug problem.  I would be going for the root of the problem here, Erick Britain.  He's a bad cop.  He is a supplier for people like Alistair, and even to underage children.  The kind of person that actually makes killing fun.  The world will be a better place without him around. 

        We set out for the addresses that the two were at.  About halfway, we had to part ways.  I headed for a residential neighborhood and Joshua went to "The Hole", a run-down place where people with no life go to share needles.  We made sure he would fit in by putting him in grungy clothing and such.  I told him we would meet up back at the house.  I gave him permission to do whatever he wanted with this kill.  It was purely his.  Public or private, whatever he wanted.  I then set off for Erick.  This would be so easy!  He didn't even lock the door!  He was so sure of himself. I sneaked up to his room and slowly open the door.  He lives alone, and he's asleep when I go in. 

        At least, I thought he was.  I guess he heard a creak in the floor, but when I got close enough to him to do some damage, I heard a gun cock.  I dropped to the floor as a fire rang out in the night.  That would surely wake the neighbors; I needed to do this quickly!  I roll under the bed and come out on the other side.  Of course, he hadn't expected that.  I get a good grip on his gun arm and pull.  I hear a sharp snap and the bones give.  He screams until I stuff a cloth down his throat.  This man needed punishment.  I drag him downstairs and into his basement that I knew would be there.  And I knew it would be soundproof.  Thank you research! 

        Once there, I pull the cloth out of his mouth so I can hear him scream as I break each bone in his body, methodically and relentlessly.  As I'm doing it, I list off the names of all the middle-schoolers to whom he had supplied drugs.  "John, Katie, Ashley, Bradey, Devin..." and I keep going until I've exhausted my knowledge.  Only at this point do I pull the knife out of its sheath.  I start cutting.  Fingers.  Toes.  Ears.  Cock.  By this time, he's almost unconscious from blood loss.  I decide to end it.  A slow cut across the throat to let him bleed out.  I make sure not to cut the jugular.  That would be too fast.  Once I'm sure he's dead, I leave.  I guess the people in the neighborhood were used to gunshots, because there were no police and I had been torturing Erick for at least an hour. 

        By the time I get back to the house, it's well past midnight.  But Joshua is sitting in the chair by the door, covered in blood.  I guess he was worried about me.  I run up to him and whisper, "Sorry for not calling..." and kiss him on the cheek.  We are both splattered in blood, so we get our showers.  And go to bed.