The Urge to Kill

9

I dressed myself in dark clothes, in case I got blood on me. I packed and assembled my bag with items including my phone, my purse, and of course, the axe. It was a bit too big for my bag, so its handle kinda stuck out a little, but you couldn't tell what it was, so I didn't care.

I decided to drive to the flats, rather than walking, as it was part of my plan. After killing Lizzy, I would return the axe, meaning I would no longer have a murder weapon in my possession. I'm sure I'll think of an excuse to return it by the time I need to, ha! The hardware store was a little far, still a walkable distance, but much more comfortable to drive. So, it just made sense to drive in the given situation. Besides, I didn't want to waste time.

I took my phone out of my bag before entering the apartment complex. It read 9:57. I popped it back in my bag, slung it over my right shoulder and strolled up to the complex and into the elevator. The several seconds I was in there felt like an eternity. I could hear my heart racing. I could also hear my mind racing. It was about to happen. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit!

Before opening her door, I hesitated. Was I really going to do this? Was I really about to kill an innocent human being? I pushed back those thoughts, and let the voice that has been calling out to me for all these years finally take over. I felt I shiver run down my spine. How disgusting. I am a disgusting person. I stood in front if the door for a solid couple of minutes, think about what I was going to do. After checking the camera was still broken, which it was, I unzipped my bag and pulled out the axe. If the camera was repaired, I would just pull the axe out in her apartment, it was no big deal. I held the handle of the axe tightly. Ignoring all thoughts of passiveness, I tried opening the door. It was unlocked. Ha.

There she was. Standing in the kitchen, was Elizabeth. She looks startled, almost frightened at my appearance.
"Umm, hi... can I help you?" she said, her voice trembling, and with a worried expression on her face, as she should be. I didn't reply, I just walked closer up to her. I quickly dropped my bag before giving the axe the first swing.

She screamed. She fell to the floor, head presumably pounding, as I purposely hit her with the rounded, blunt end of the axe, hoping it would either knock her out or stop her from screaming. It did neither. Without waiting, I began swinging like crazy, the voice screaming the loudest it's ever been. I hit her stomach, her legs, her arms. I gave her chest a few blows too. The screaming slowly dampened as she suffered more and more pain after every hit with the axe. I hit her face a couple times. She stopped screaming. So did the call in my head. The call in my head slowly backed away, just like poor old Lizzy.

I peered down at my phone. 10:16. I looked around. She was preparing some sort of meal. I grabbed the kitchen knife and gave her a couple stabs where her heart should be located. She should be dead. I look down at her. Her eyes are different to before. Instead of showing the mysterious messages, they were dull and loosing colour. I back away to look at the damage. Blood was pouring out. A pool of blood surrounded the victim. It traveled down the tiles and soaked into the carpet. Her clothes were dyed red. I stood there for a few minutes before collecting my thoughts and rinsing the weapons clean. I ran them under the tap, watching the blood slowly escape the blades of each one. It was kinda mesmerising to be honest. I even tried to rinse my clothes a little, not too much so that they were soaking wet though. I sat down on her couch at looked at her. She was definitely dead. I can't believe I just did that. I decided to not return the items, and instead throw them away in the dumpster behind the apartments. It seemed more appropriate, especially since I used her knife as well.

I drove home, and something was different. Very different. The call was... completely gone. Vanished. The usual loud and banging cacophony the call brought upon me was..gone. In a way, I felt kind of empty, but it felt good. I felt a little confident. I felt great, in fact. I had finally gotten it off my chest. The weight I'd been carrying for so long had left, and I was happy.
I left knowing that I had successfully done what I had wanted to do for years.
Elizabeth Milton is no more...

(842 words)