Dark · Short Stories

Ravenous Hunger

They asked me if I did it. How could I deny it when my fingerprints were all over the scene? I’m not ashamed of what I did. I’m proud of it. Wouldn’t you be proud if you finally won? I can go with a smile on my face now.

They asked me, “How do you sleep at night?” My response: “with a warm cup of milk and a music playing softly in the background.”

They ask silly questions about how I live my life and how I deal with what I’ve done. Obviously they’ve never killed someone before. It’s easier than you’d think. Just take your weapon of choice and attack your victim at their weakest point. My latest victim for instance was on the toilet. Talk about scaring the crap out of someone!

They want to know my motives. Well, who needs motives when you hate the world. The only children I’ve killed were bullies, the only women I’ve killed were whores and as for men, well, no one’s perfect.

I’ve lived in this world long enough to know what chaos lies in the alley ways and shadows. I’m not blind. I see this world perfectly from the underbelly. If you chose to hate me then so be it, but I’ll only be the hero that everyone hates.

They asked me how I feel about my new housing. It’s cozy. I get free food, a room by myself and a gym. To my understanding I won’t be here long. I’m on my way to hells pits with the golden ticket.

The parents and families scream my name and I feel like a rock star. I throw my hands in the air, hands in fists. My escorts grab my arms down every time. It’s the most exhilarating feeling I’ve ever had. Even more so than killing.

This is my kind of crowd, profanities flying from left and right, body guards holding the crowds back. I’m a celebrity, they all know my name. I wasn’t expecting all this popularity when I began my job. I knew I’d be caught eventually. I knew what I was doing and I do not regret it. This is my time, and these are my fans. Perhaps they deserve one final show.

I’m loaded into an armored truck and set between my two escorts; locked inside.
When we reach our destination the driver opens the doors to find me holding back laughter while my two escorts are silent as a mouse. One sprawled on the floor, head bent grotesquely to one side. The other face down in my lap. I push it to the ground to reveal his bloodied body. His face is priceless. I can’t hold back my laughter when he’s giving a face like that!

The driver slams the doors shut again which only makes me laugh harder. When the door finally opens again, four large men drag me out.

My newest punishment? A life time with all the other crazies, and daily doses of a variety of drugs.

Now they ask me, “How does that make you feel?”

My response: “Hungry.”

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