People call me a sick, twisted man. They think I don't deserve to live. Which is funny because they don't even know me yet.
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5 years ago, I was convicted for killing 14 people. The court came to a conclusion that I was mentally ill. So they sent me to a mental institution. Luckly, my next door inmate had some outside friends and they blew off his wall. Inwhich they blew off a part of my wall in the process. Thank you whoever you were. I ran out and stole a chevy parked in the parking garage.The idiot whom I stole it from left his wallet in the car. It's insulting how they would put me in such a low surcirity mental institution. I went to Mexico, changed my name, then came back to Arizona.
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I got a job, lived in a small town, and kept a low profile. I bought a couple of weapons, made some of my own, but I never bought a gun. Too obvious and time consuming. And expensive. I made no friends nor enimies. I always mowed my lawn. I seemed like a normal guy.
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But later on, I would always have sudden unexpected urges to kill. I loved and missed the feeling of the killing. I tried to ignore it, but it haunted me, day and night. Week after week, month after month, untill I snapped. I finnally decided to find a mask and continue what I loved and adored. I would use no weapon nor tactic more than once. So I bought a burlap sack with two eyeholes in it. I was finnally ready to pick up where I left off. Time for victum #15.
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5 years ago, I was convicted for killing 14 people. The court came to a conclusion that I was mentally ill. So they sent me to a mental institution. Luckly, my next door inmate had some outside friends and they blew off his wall. Inwhich they blew off a part of my wall in the process. Thank you whoever you were. I ran out and stole a chevy parked in the parking garage.The idiot whom I stole it from left his wallet in the car. It's insulting how they would put me in such a low surcirity mental institution. I went to Mexico, changed my name, then came back to Arizona.
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I got a job, lived in a small town, and kept a low profile. I bought a couple of weapons, made some of my own, but I never bought a gun. Too obvious and time consuming. And expensive. I made no friends nor enimies. I always mowed my lawn. I seemed like a normal guy.
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But later on, I would always have sudden unexpected urges to kill. I loved and missed the feeling of the killing. I tried to ignore it, but it haunted me, day and night. Week after week, month after month, untill I snapped. I finnally decided to find a mask and continue what I loved and adored. I would use no weapon nor tactic more than once. So I bought a burlap sack with two eyeholes in it. I was finnally ready to pick up where I left off. Time for victum #15.