Alexandria Bates: Man Killer
Chapter Two: The Man Who Took Too Long To Die
Alexandria ran through the night, making sure to keep to the shadows as she cleaned the fat man's blood off her hand. Once she was satisfied that her hand was clean , she scaled the apartment building to her right, making sure to leave traces of blood as she went with the hand she had left dirty, until she reached the 8th floor, (Alexandria hated the number eight. In fact, it was her least favorite number). She expertly jimmied open the window into the hallway, and began to walk, leaving traces of blood as she went, until she reached the door she wanted: Apartment 88. She opened the door.
"Stupid man for taking this apartment number," she thought.
Taking the bloody rag, she rubbed it against the sleeping man's hands, before placing the rag in his trashcan. And with that, she left for her home.
The next morning, Alex turned on the news. As she had expected, the main story was about a dead fat man, an unconscious teenager being taken in for questioning, thought the boy seemed to have been hit so hard on the head that he couldn't remember what had happened, and a truck driver who had been taken in after blood matching the dead man's had been found in his apartment building. He was being tried for third degree murder, of which the penalty was death. Satisfied, she turned off the T.V. As long as the man was committed, she would be fulfilled enough to stop killing men for about three days. Until she was sure that he was going to die though, she was going to keep killing men that she felt deserved it. Otherwise her grief would overwhelm her from when her boyfriend had broken her heart years ago. He had been perfect: never doing a thing wrong, almost angelic. In fact, that's exactly what he was, an angel. It wasn't even considered a sin for him to leave her, the devil had informed her when she first went to him for guidance, because by leaving her he was trying to help her quit being an alcoholic. As she remembered this horrible memory, she took a swig of vodka, finishing off the bottle. It was only 9:00 am. She was drinking less than usual, so she opened up another bottle. You see, when Johannes had left her she had done the opposite of what he wanted by turning to more alcohol and violence.
A week went by with no news about the verdict for the man who lived in Apartment 88. Alex had passed the week in a drunken rage over this by killing more and more men and drinking more and more alcohol. Finally, eight days after the incident, (the fact that it was eight days irritated the drunken Alexandria so much that she threw her microwave out the window so it would hit a man who was walking his bichon. Alex hated bichons) news station announced that the man had been pronounced guilty, as he had an alibi. Alex was stunned for a moment before fury consumed her. She immediately left her house and headed to the man's apartment, only to discover that he wasn't there. After a moment's aggravation, she decided that the best way to kill him without getting her hands too dirty
would be to just blow up the apartment building. At first she felt bad about killing all of the other people, but then realized that it was their fault for living in the same building as the man, and therefore deserved to die.
After heading to her local convenience store and picking up a simple, remote-activated bomb, (I told you this was a poor neighborhood), she went back to the man's home and set everything up. Then she went to the neighboring building and waited for the man to arrive.
A few hours later, Alexandria's patience was rewarded. As the man entered his house, he found a note taped to a cardboard box. Puzzled, he picked up the not to read:
Dear Man Who Will Not Die,
I know that you are for sure innocent, for I am the one who killed the man and made it look like you were to blame. You should have been committed. I mean, you DESERVE to DIE. Why you may ask? Because you live on floor 8 in Apartment #88. I HATE the number 8. Do you know why? Because my ex is an angel. He was an angel for 8 years when he left me on August (the eighth month in case you're stupid…I don't really know that much about you. I'm hoping you're not stupid. It's much more fun to kill the smart ones) 8th. Did you know he also had bichons? This doesn't really matter to you does it. I mean, you're going to die no matter what you do. I left you a present so you'll have happy memories when you die.
Love Always,
Alexandria Bates: Man Killer
The man was stunned and scared, but since he loved presents and wanted to die happy, he opened the box. Alexandria saw this and pushed the button.
"Damn…He was a stupid one after all."