The Beginning of a Serial Killer

A slight thud is heard from inside the house. This house is two stories high with a brick finish, and has the same wallpaper for almost every room. Except in the parent's bedroom was a gray color with stains of red colored against the walls. The red coming from a woman's blood. A man of about six feet tall is dragging a woman who is half dead with a slice from her lower neck to her waist. With each step the man took, the woman's cut sprayed with more blood everywhere. Finally the man dragged her outside of the house and threw her into one of the holes that was dug in the backyard. He dug the dirt back into the hole until all the hole was filled with the dirt. The airless void the woman was dug into suffocated the last bit of life from her. She was buried alive, with the dirt stinging at her wound up until the moment of her death.

The man walks into the house and steps in front of the basement door. He takes his shovel that's in his hand and busts open the door revealing a dark passage into the unknown. The killers hand moves around in the darkness until he finds a switch. He flips the switch turning on the light

Then a fearful and painful scream filled the night air. The killer walks down into the basement and finds a thirteen year old boy with each of his hands tied to the wall keeping him from moving.

“What are you doing here?” asks the killer.

“That's none of your business Bro.” the killer replies.

“But aren't you supposed to be in the looney bin.” the boy asked him.

“Look you little shit head, do you want out of here or not?” the killer asks angrily.

“OK fine; I won't ask you anymore questions.” the boy muttered. “Just get me out of here Michael.” Then Michael takes his shovel and brakes the chain that kept the boy from moving.

“Judas have you realized yet that those people are evil?” Michael asks as the two walk up the stairs.

“They are our parents though, they love us.” Judas tells Michael.

“How could you possibly think those creeps love us with how they beat, starved, and lied to us?

I went to the mental home because they said I was making up all they did to me.” Michael yelled back. “Now they are doing the same thing to you.” Judas was big for thirteen. He was six foot four inches tall, and weighed 80 pounds. He had the mental capacity of a nine year old. Judas and Michael walked out of the building and got into Michael's 1975 station wagon.

“Judas where is Dad?” Michael asks.

“Why, what are you going to do?” Judas wanted to know.

“I am not going to do anything.” Michael replies slyly and a sickening grin spreads across his face. “You are going to kill Dad.” Michael tells Judas.

“What? No I'm not. There is no way I'm going to kill Dad!” Judas yells.

“Look, either you kill Dad, or I kill you little brother.” Michael said as he looked at his brother with a sick grin.

“OK, I'll tell you; Dad is in the Dead End Motel.” Judas mutters as he looks down at the car floor. Michael speeds away in his station wagon towards the motel. About halfway there a cop follows Michael and pulls him over.

“Sir are you aware that you were speeding at 120 miles per hour?” the officer asks. Michael turns his head slowly, looks at the police officer, and stares at him for a moment. “Sir...” Then Michael picks up his shovel and drives the end into the officer's throat.

“Sorry officer, I don't have the money to pay for that.” Michael says as he drives away from the decapitated officer. “We're here Judas; now climb this ladder up into Dad's room.” Michael told Judas. Judas just got out of the car and took the extendable ladder out of the back seat of the car. Judas set the ladder against the side of the building and climbed it just like Michael said. As he got up to the window he saw his dad undressing a lady with long brown hair, big hips, and breast implants. Judas was only thirteen but he knew she was a prostitute. She looked dirtier than the garbage bag in the trash can back at the house Judas thought. Then Judas thought about earlier that day when the dad went down to the basement to tell Judas goodbye that day.

“I will be home tomorrow Judas; I have a business meeting in Cleveland.” the father told him. Instead here he was in Toledo cheating on his wife. Judas felt something build up inside him that he had never felt before. For the first time Judas felt no remorse for what he was about to do. Judas busted through the window and walked in the room. “What the hell are you doing Judas?” the father yelled. Judas just stood there looking at him. “Answer me you sorry...” but the father stopped as he saw Judas and the fire that was in his eyes.

Judas picked up a broken piece of glass and grabbed the father from behind and slit open his throat. Blood poured out of his jugular and onto the floor as he fell to his knees. As fast as all started, it was over. But Judas liked the feeling he got as the glass punctured his father's throat. He loved the feeling so much that he had to do it again. Judas saw the prostitute trying to leave the room and he took the piece of glass and sliced it across her back. Judas kept cutting her and cutting her until there was nothing but a bunch of bloody pieces laying on the floor. Then Judas dropped the glass and climbed out the window. He walked over to Michael who was standing outside of his car, leaning against the hood.

“I see that you killed somebody with all that blood on you.” Michael says as he looks at Judas. “Good job, take this shovel and remember the night you broke free from the biggest evil ever known.” Michael adds.

Judas grips the shovel in his powerful hands and jams it into his brother's chest, blood spraying all over the big man's chest. Michael stared into the monster's eyes he helped create, poetic justice.

Michael's head fell back and Judas felt a surge of excitement he had never felt before.