Lights Out

Copycat

Ed Gein terrorized a small town in Minnesota. And then two weeks later, Jeffrey Dahmer was back at it. And then John Wayne Gacy. Every so often, a new serial killer that hasn't killed in years pops up somewhere else in America. No one knows who is really behind it, but police and FBI alike all agree that the person killing was a fan of serial killers. They figure this person has studied and aspired to be serial killers, but I had a different theory. 

They say when you renovate a home or dig up skeletons resting peacefully it causes a shift in energy, and this energy in turn wakes the spirits and they torment and haunt you. All well and fine, but what would happen if people dug up the killers' graves and destroyed the bodies? You see, if the known remains true, then by doing this you have released the souls of the bodies into the world. Some people believe burning bodies forces the spirits to find their peace and move on but now, I'm not so sure of that.

Maybe I would believe it if I hadn't acted out my theories months ago. I work for a mortuary, so by using that small power I went to Ed Gein's burial site and burned whatever I could find tied to him. I thought, "What's the worst that happens? I get haunted by mist and corporeal anger?", but that in fact was not the worst thing that could happen. Because I didn't believe anything had actually happened until a week later and he was killing once more.

So, I did what any good scientist would do in this situation. I tested my hypothesis again in case the other was really just coincidence and a copycat killer stalked the town. I burned Jeffrey Dahmer and once again, a week after I had done it, he was back on the streets killing. And then it started getting interesting. The victims died, of course, but this time there were witnesses. And those witnesses, barring mental incapacity, said that there was no one attacking the victim. They said they thought the victim was doing it to themselves at first, maybe for attention, until they finally realized that they were dying. And by the time they called for help, it was much too late.

So, ghosts were sticking around to continue their passion in life: murder. But it seemed implausible because really, how could a ghost carry out a murder exactly as they had done in their living Golden Years? I didn't know if it would actually work, but after John Wayne Gacy I burned another killer. This time, I burned a piece of paper with a name written on it with the body. I wanted to see if I could lead a killer to a person of my choosing. And, wouldn't you know it, the person I had wrote down died a week later. 

Now I felt drunk off my power. All the people who had bullied me, all the people who said I would never amount to anything could be punished. I could punish true criminals as well, if they happened to walk free in court. I could play God, and dammit that's exactly my speed. I wrote a few more names down but it was harder and harder to get access to graves and personal affects. Now that killers were loose and the police couldn't physically trace down a suspect, they put the bodies on lock. 

I tried a new hypothesis. I found a body I could finally burn and wrote down all the killers I had previously reanimated as well as the current killer. I wasn't stupid, if I didn't add suicide to the list it would just be a constant stream without a real conclusion. And it worked. After a week, no more killings and the attacks just vanished from the news. People felt safe again, if only for a short while.

But, like any God, I wanted to really test my new powers. So, I wrote down my own name this time. I figured if I had to, I could try burning just a piece of paper with the killer's name on it. After all, if the body was already burned and fire seemed to be the glue to hold this experiment together, it ought to work. 

I waited patiently in my room for a week, my chest alive with hope and fear and pride. I can control ghosts, and not just any ghosts but real serial killers. Even the cops who caught them couldn't control them and the justice system failed them. Most sat on death row rotting instead of being killed instantly. This was much better for them, since it was easier to kill and stay hidden as a ghost. It was a disservice to them.

The killer came, but when I burned the paper...nothing happened. The killer advanced on me but there was nothing I could do. Slashes and deep red welts materialized on my body and as I begged for them to stop, that I loved them and I brought them back to continue their work, the killer slashed my throat. My pleas became bloody gurgles as my life drifted away.

There was one thing I hadn't thought of. I wrote down all my findings in a notebook, a small green journal bound by butchers twine, and I left it on the bed. While the police were suspicious at first and not willing to play into some superstitious mumbo-jumbo, there was one detective willing to give it a shot. She found the name of the killer I had resurrected last and wrote it down. And then I watched as she wrote my name down as well. She burned that paper despite my best efforts to keep her from it, and I disappeared like dust on the wind.

But my work was done. And by the detective playing into my experiment and watching the effects, I had planted the seed in an unsuspecting protégé. Just like the ghosts, I would never die. I just needed a copycat.