You're A Killer, Tweek

Craig X Tweek

Written by JEL

Tweek P.O.V.


Do you see the blood on your hand

The blood you drained from that man

Do you see the blood on the floor

You say you love it, more and more

Do you see the blood on the knife

The one you used to take a life

Do you see the blood everywhere

Your skin is crawling, like you care


I woke in a strange place. No… no no no no no no..! I fell asleep?! No! This was bad! Horribly, horribly bad! I couldn't - no - WOULDN'T open my eyes. I just knew that He had killed again. God, noo..!

Reluctantly, I opened one eye. A dark, foreboding ceiling hang over me. I lay on my back, staring at it. I move my hand, it was loosely holding something. My heart sunk at the realization of what it was. It was a knife from the kitchen at home. It, as well as my face and clothes, were soaked with blood. After collecting myself, I stood up, still clutching the blood stained knife. I slowly looked around me, trying to find the victim and/or an exit.

My gaze slowly drifted to a corner of the small room, and there, was a mangled and unrecognizable corpse. It looked like an older woman. Her limp hand rested vertically up the pale wall. Dried blood streaks ran down her arm, forever imprinting the light wall. She lay face down, and for whatever reason, I walked over to her, and turned her on her back. She had no eyes, and her tongue had been cut off. I felt incredibly faint. I felt my body start shaking uncontrollably, and tears ran involuntarily down my stained cheeks.

"Well, how do you like my work?" A far too familiar voice hit me.

"How-… how could you do this..?!" I yelled back at him.

He just laughed at me. "You'd better run. Wouldn't want her husband to come home and see you."

"Wh-what?! O-oh god..!" I stood and spun around. I looked desperately for a door.

"To your right, little one." He liked to constantly call me this. "Little one"… how could such an innocent nickname be said so sinister? It was so creepy…

I turned to see a dark door, with a gold door knob. I grabbed it, but… it wouldn't open. Why wasn't it opening?! What kind of door doesn't open?!

His laughter seemingly filled the room. I froze. I slowly spun around, seeing my worst nightmare right in front of me.

I… I saw… no… no, no… it couldn't be… He COULDN'T be..! For the first time in my life, I could put a face to the evil monstrosity inside me. It was… my own face. He… had MY body… it was ME… I was looking at MYSELF. He had gray, soulless eyes. But… my eyes were green. Is this what I looked like when I wasn't in control..?

He paused from his laughing. "What, do I need to help you? Can't open the door with those weak, skinny arms of yours?"

I felt so dizzy. I thought I might of thrown up or passed out.

"Pft… Very well then." He started walking towards me.

I couldn't take anymore. I blacked out. That was the last thing I can remember.

I, again, woke up. This time… I was in my bed..? I was home… but how..? I was still in my bloody clothing, and it had stained my bed sheets.

"You know, keeping you out of trouble is getting to be quite the pain." He was sitting on top of my dresser, watching me.

"H-how are you… why do you look…-"

"Just like you? Take a wild guess. I AM you, you toss. I would've thought you'd know that."

"B-but you… you can't… I would never…"

He burst out with insane laughter. "Oh that's a good one! Listen, you need to get this through you're head. You're - no - WE'RE a murderer. And you have to deal with it, because I'm perfectly content."

Tears welled up in my eyes. This couldn't be real. This had to be some sick joke He's playing on me.

"Oi, stop you're whimpering. If you get so worked up over some old bitch, how're you gonna get over your so called friends?" He developed the most devilish smirk I've ever seen.

I stared up at him, wishing I hadn't just heard that. "Wh-… what..?"

He crossed his arms, still grinning. "Yes, I'm afraid killing random people is just getting terribly dull. The look on your face isn't as satisfying as it used to be. So, I've determined that the solution is to kill ones dearest to you. I think it's only fit that I - sorry - WE do so."

"No… no, you wouldn't..!" I was feeling faint again.

"You're right. I wouldn't. But WE will." He began to laugh maniacally.

"No! No! Why can't you just leave me alone?!"

A sudden knock came from behind my bedroom door. "Tweek? What are you doing being so loud so late at night?" My dad.

I ran to the door, shutting it before he could fully open it. I couldn't let someone see me in bloody and torn clothes.

"AGuh! N-nothing dad..! I'll be quiet, I-I promise..!" I yelled back.

"Alright, you better. Or we'll have to send you to a boot camp to learn how to be a good child. Goodnight." Footstep went down the hall and faded away until I couldn't hear them anymore.

I sighed in relief. "Wait… boot camp..?!"

END PT1

P.S. The poem is again mine