Violence sprang from my limbs faster than I could see. It lept from me like a crazed animal. I wasn't in control. Never in control, but I felt the same anger. The same blood pounding. The same red vision. The same as the beast. Never control, but always the same want. Always the same result. The animal does what I would do. I do what the animal would do.
The woman was the first to go. Her neck snapped like a twig in my fists. The shattered neck bone broke the skin, spraying raging red blood all over the room. She was thin and mousy. Brown hair. If I hadn't been consumed by rage I might have had a memory. A similar girl. A similar situation.
It was the shock that did the man in. He stood staring at his wife with dumb incomprehension. He might have posed a threat if he had fought back. He was not muscled but he had size. But he didn't fight back. The knife in my hand slid easy into his stomach. Then easy out and into his eye. Then his throat then his chest, scraping against ribs. Then his arm. Then his balls. Then his leg. Then I lost track.
XXXXX
It was morning when I came to my senses. The blood covered the kitchen. Like a red coat of paint. There was no rage anymore. The red was on the outside now.
I stood. The stairs creaked as I walked up them. As I left the kitchen. As I escaped the carnage I told myself I didn't care about.
It took me two wrong turns but I found the couple's room. I opened the door to their bathroom. I stripped. I fell into the shower and turned it on. I left my mind.
XXXXX
I tried to recall why I killed them. What they had done to anger me. I couldn't remember.
With clean skin and clothes that didn't fit I picked up the gasoline canister I found in their garage. There was enough to pour some in each room. It would go up like the match in my hand.
I hesitated. I knew this marked the beginning of the aftermath of my kill. It marked my hunt. The aftermath of my actions. When I lit and threw the match it would mean the consequences began. That I would face the price, whatever it my be, for this thing I didn't want. Or did.
My hands didn't shake. I thought they would. I ran when the flaming match hit the ground. I didn't think I would.
XXXXX
The pills did nothing. Like always. I had so many of them. Boxes of pills in my car. I didn't remember where I got them. I never remember.
I sat in my car. I don't know how long. Somewhere between hours and minutes. Then I got out. I don't no why. I never know why. The result is the same.
I didn't feel the needle in my neck. I didn't feel passing out.
XXXXX
I woke up on a table. Plastic wrap around me. Pictures on the wall. There was a man. He was talking. He pointed to the pictures, but I didn't hear. He cut my face and put the blood on a plastic. Like science class when I was a kid.
He pulled out a knife and positioned it over my chest. No shaking, no fear, no hesitation.
I managed two words. "Thank You."