Howdy, everyone! I wanted to make something different and I hope that this is it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji nor the song that is referenced.
I don't know why I killed them. They did nothing wrong. They were everything I wasn't: caring, loving, attentive. Maybe it was for that reason that I ended their life. They were too different from me. It was unnatural and eerie how we differentiated. Aren't we supposed to be similar in some regard? I mean, I am the apple and it seems as if I was pitched off into another dimension. Possibly, there was something wrong with me. Possible, but not likely in my opinion. After all, I did alert the police of my actions. What irresponsible person would do that? Matter of fact, I spoke with ease and was very collected. I think if I were an actor, my performance would have gotten me the Grammy. Anyways, beside the call, the killing wasn't grotesque or anything. I did it when they were sleeping so it could it be peaceful. It was very elegant, in my perspective. A quick slice to a neck, cutting the important artery that lay there, successfully shorting the life of the man. The blood oozed out of the wound, waking the woman that slept beside him. I ended her life with a delicate shove that led her head to connect to the headboard. The right temple that had been dealt the blow had momentarily stunned her, but I reached over and gracefully entered the knife through her stomach. Not a killing blow, per se, but I did repeat the process to be thorough. All in all, a very pleasant death. It could have been a lot more gruesome, but I did care for them in someway or fashion. Care...Did I care? Rather, could I? It doesn't matter anymore, I suppose. After I finished cleaning myself from the mess, I decided that the house looked unkept, so I light a match and let it fall in their room. I did the same thing some others. I entered a room, seeing if anything interests me in the slightest. Nothing did. I set that room on fire too. I took the phone that was placed in the kitchen and left the burning house. As I watched smoke fill the unveiled windows, I dialed 911.
"What is your emergency?" The question left me puzzled. There was no dire emergency. Nonetheless, I proceeded to rely the information.
"I murdered my parents. I also set my home on fire. I suppose that police cars and fire trucks are needed. By the look of it, you should hurry on the fire trucks," I said. Silence. "Well, I'm going to hang up now. Have a good night." I clicked the phone off. I turned around to look at my once living quarters. No memories stood out amongst the rest. They all blended together: dull, meticulous, and ever so boring. That could be another factor why I did the thing I did. Because it was a chance to make new memories. The sound of sirens pulled me out of my reverie. I threw the phone in the fire that was starting to overwhelm the house. I waited, staring at the black smoke that had escaped the enclosed building. Finally, I heard tires screech their way onto my driveway. A command was shortly given to put my hands up. Like I was going to resist. Still, I did as I was told. I felt hands clasp my wrists and tug them behind my back to handcuff me. My Miranda rights were given to me as I was shuffled toward the squad car. The door swung open and I was stuffed inside. I took one more glance at the starting chapter of my life. It was just a prelude. It was time to turn the page to write something new.
The car was absent of any conversation. The static of the walkie-talkies filled my ears. The shadows blocked my view of the officers' faces. I quickly gave up on the idea of seeing of them. I wondered silently to myself if I would be extradited back to England, but I guess that would be figured out at the arraignment. I laid my head against the glass, enjoying the coolness it provided.
Before I knew it, my mouth had started to form words. My throat vibrated as sound was produced. "London Bridge is falling down, falling down...falling," I trailed off. At last, the car's engine was powered up, and the man maneuvered his way past his comrades. The image of the house collapsing imprinted itself in my mind. "Down"