The Monster Within

1.

They say to never let a fool kiss you or a kiss fool you. You have no idea how true that is. Monsters are real. They slink through the night like silent predators, spreading death and mayhem wherever they go. Some of them make their presence known in the most obvious ways and are caught before too many lives are lost. Others are more careful and can go on for years, slaughtering the “innocent” and damaging lives. Do you really know anyone? Is your next door neighbor really just a harmless old man? Is the bag boy at your grocery store in reality a closet psychopath? Does your child’s grade school teacher have boxes of body parts stored in his basement?
I am one such creature. Darkness fills every chamber of my rotten heart. I’ve been very good at hiding it. I have a successful career, a wife, and even children. People are so quick to take things at face value. They never take a deeper look at the twisted soul within. Everyone that meets me sees me as a nice guy, full of jokes and laughter-always there to lend a helping hand or a word of advice. If they only knew…
I wasn’t molested as a child. My mother and father never abused me. They were too drunk for that and too busy with their own worries. Like Popeye would say, I am what I am. I make no excuses for it. I love the power of holding someone’s life in my hands-and ending it. Everyone’s got to have his fun, right?

2.

I ride the night, looking for a trusting soul to put to an end. There are plenty here. You just have to know where to find them. It’s mid-summer and the stars are shining like the eyes of a thousand hungry rats. A cool breeze washes through the streets of this little college town. This isn’t my city. I make it a point never to hunt on my own turf. I see people walking the streets but none are very interesting. Most are in groups of two or more. Those that are alone are in well-lighted areas or have the guarded attitude of those that expect the worst. There are no easy targets here.
I see a lot of cars and people staggering around up ahead, just as I’m about to call it a night. It’s a party. My heart swells with anticipation. This is the perfect place. I park my car and head up to the house. Some people are passed out in the lawn and a guy is throwing up in the bushes. I walk by them and up onto the porch without a second glance. I still look young enough to blend in with the crowd. Besides, they’re all so drunk that they wouldn’t even notice.
Most of the crowd is gravitating toward the kitchen. I go there and grab myself a drink and have a look around. It’s a big house, decorated in the style known as 20th century crap. Beer signs and posters hang on the walls. Some one has written a creative list of obscenities on one of the walls. The air is fragrant with the smells of spilled alcohol and pot smoke.
I see what I’m looking for in the living room. She’s sitting all by her lonesome in a dim corner of the room. Her brown hair cascades down her shoulders. Her eyes are downcast. This lovely specimen is what is called a wallflower. She probably came with a friend and was abandoned in favor of more interesting company, or she came out of loneliness. There’s an air of shyness about her that is so attractive. Oh, how I would love to slit her throat right now.
I walk up to her and sit beside her on the couch. She turns and looks at me through her thick glasses.
“Some party, huh?”
I can see that she’s a bit hesitant in answering. She probably wonders what someone like me would see in someone like her. “Yeah. Some party.”
I’ve found that when you make someone laugh, they’re more likely to let down their guard and trust you. If someone makes you laugh, they have to be nice, right? I tell her a few jokes and refill her drink a couple times. She tells me that her name is Virginia and after a while, she says that she feels like she’s known me her whole life. On the second trip, I slip a roofie into her drink. Some people call it the date rape drug. Rape is the farthest thing from my mind. They can be useful in other ways.
After a while, the drug starts to take affect. I didn’t put a large dose in her drink, so I don’t have to worry about her passing out. It was just enough to help her get rid of her inhibitions. I ask her if she’d like to go back to my place.
“Sure. That would be nice”, she says and I walk her out to my car. Of course, we won’t be going to my house but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

3.
We drive through the streets at random. She doesn’t seem to notice. There’s a house that I staked out earlier in the week. I took the liberty of removing the for sale sign from the front lawn last night. The house is in a little cul-de-sac, so I won’t have to worry about anyone noticing my car being there for any length of time, or about neighbors hearing her screams. I pull the car up into the driveway and come around to her side of the car and open her door-the perfect gentleman.
She leans up against me as I pretend to unlock the back door. I pull the door open wide and we walk inside. I’m not worried about anyone seeing the lights back here so I turn them on. She looks at the empty room and asks, “Don’t you have any furniture?”
“I just moved in. My stuff’s in storage right now. Would you like another drink?”
She tells me that she would and I say that I have something in the refrigerator. When she turns to go get it, I pull a leather sap out of my pocket and hit her where her skull joins her neck. She drops like a rag doll. I gently scoop her up and carry her down into the basement.
Virginia comes to and finds herself tied to a chair. Her eyes are bugged out in fear and she screams something at me. I can’t tell what it is because of the rubber ball that I have stuffed into her mouth-but I have a pretty good idea. I’m standing naked, except for a leather apron. The front of it is stained from the blood of my other playthings. My clothes are folded in a neat pile on a chair across the room. In my hand is an electric carving knife. She tosses her head as I walk toward her. It won’t do her any good. I get a hand full of hair to hold her still, then cut off her ear. Her screams intensify and make my blood race through my veins. I lose myself to rapture and the music of her shrieks.
I come back to myself some time later. Pieces of Virginia litter the floor. The floor is slippery with her blood. By some dark miracle, she’s still alive. She’s been reduced to a whimpering mess. Her life is ebbing away, though. I walk up to her and take her into my arms, stroke what’s left of her hair. I hold her until she’s gone.

4.
It’s a beautiful morning. I kiss my wife good bye and climb into my car to head off for work. I haven’t seen anything in the paper about Virginia yet. It’ll be a couple of days before she’s found. I’m not worried, though. I know how to manipulate evidence, while at the same time, leave no trace of myself. Besides, I’m the last person anyone would point the finger at. Who would suspect the chief of police?

reply to post by Skid Mark


Be less murderer please?

reply to post by HollowJacket


Was it scary?

reply to post by Skid Mark


scary? yes. sociopathic? definitely

reply to post by HollowJacket


I had fun writing that lol.

Oh I thought you were serious for a second Skid. Scared me a bit lol until I read further. Nice!

I enjoyed reading your story, sucked me in from the get-go, the intro's first line was definitely an eye catcher.
I especially enjoyed the little twist at the end, "Chief of Police"
Nice work