Part 10
9 pm
Casey McCorkle starts up his white cheerokee jeep. He really doesn't want to go to band practice tonight, but if he doesn't show up he will get a demerit. They should have called band practice off, he thinks its a sin that after one of the band members died, they still held it. It will probably be a memorial, and he knows now he has to go through the ritual of pretending to be sad, that one of his best buds, Mike Diaz had died.
The acting depressed was straining him of energy he could use to hunt for more victims.He knew all his victims deserved to die, they possessed something he would never possess. Courage. He was aware,that this reason wasn't a very good reason, but their was something about them, something he envied them for. How could they all possess such a wealth of bravery, when he, Casey, was blessed with a good family, and good intelligence, but was as spineless as a jellyfish. He deserved better, he did not like to be regarded as one of the bums of the world. He especially knew if anyone found out he was a killer, -or- that he was thinking of dropping his university studies, he would defenitly be considered one of the failures of the world.
He knew he could not legally declare himself insane, as he knew exactly what he had been doing when he had decapitated the five people. He had enjoyed the experience, and that was one of the reasons, the fifth victim was still in his jeep, he figured it was well hidden, since his Jeep could easily be mistaken for an SUV, -or- a van, and offered lots of space, and the FBI, who were now working the case, would never suspect him. He was too quite, too forgetable to be missed. He could blend in with any crowd, and act as if he belonged. The only thing that might tip the G-men to his presence, maybe his red hair,which he was getting dyed to brown soon, anyway, so then he would really be able to blend in with the whole university crowd.
He needs to find a new victim soon, someone not related to the University to throw them off, and make them think they have a copycat killer.
His watch beeps, and he curses himself, he was suppose to turn the alarm off, why should he have to remind himself to take his pills, when he was refusing to take them anymore. He'll fix it later, he pulls his saxophone case out of the jeep, and begins to walk towards the band room.
A friend of his named Mandy, her brown hair spilling behind her, runs up to him. "They cancelled practice, but they are having a memorial for Mike, and Mr. Singleton asked me to find you, and see if you would say a few words."
"I don't know, YOU know how I hate making public speeches."
"Please, you probably knew him better than all of us, and it would really help, you know he would have wanted you, to."
"Okay, fine, should I bring my sax inside," Casey asks.
Mandy doesn't answer him, but grabs his other hand and drags him swiftly towards the band room.
(more to come)
9 pm
Casey McCorkle starts up his white cheerokee jeep. He really doesn't want to go to band practice tonight, but if he doesn't show up he will get a demerit. They should have called band practice off, he thinks its a sin that after one of the band members died, they still held it. It will probably be a memorial, and he knows now he has to go through the ritual of pretending to be sad, that one of his best buds, Mike Diaz had died.
The acting depressed was straining him of energy he could use to hunt for more victims.He knew all his victims deserved to die, they possessed something he would never possess. Courage. He was aware,that this reason wasn't a very good reason, but their was something about them, something he envied them for. How could they all possess such a wealth of bravery, when he, Casey, was blessed with a good family, and good intelligence, but was as spineless as a jellyfish. He deserved better, he did not like to be regarded as one of the bums of the world. He especially knew if anyone found out he was a killer, -or- that he was thinking of dropping his university studies, he would defenitly be considered one of the failures of the world.
He knew he could not legally declare himself insane, as he knew exactly what he had been doing when he had decapitated the five people. He had enjoyed the experience, and that was one of the reasons, the fifth victim was still in his jeep, he figured it was well hidden, since his Jeep could easily be mistaken for an SUV, -or- a van, and offered lots of space, and the FBI, who were now working the case, would never suspect him. He was too quite, too forgetable to be missed. He could blend in with any crowd, and act as if he belonged. The only thing that might tip the G-men to his presence, maybe his red hair,which he was getting dyed to brown soon, anyway, so then he would really be able to blend in with the whole university crowd.
He needs to find a new victim soon, someone not related to the University to throw them off, and make them think they have a copycat killer.
His watch beeps, and he curses himself, he was suppose to turn the alarm off, why should he have to remind himself to take his pills, when he was refusing to take them anymore. He'll fix it later, he pulls his saxophone case out of the jeep, and begins to walk towards the band room.
A friend of his named Mandy, her brown hair spilling behind her, runs up to him. "They cancelled practice, but they are having a memorial for Mike, and Mr. Singleton asked me to find you, and see if you would say a few words."
"I don't know, YOU know how I hate making public speeches."
"Please, you probably knew him better than all of us, and it would really help, you know he would have wanted you, to."
"Okay, fine, should I bring my sax inside," Casey asks.
Mandy doesn't answer him, but grabs his other hand and drags him swiftly towards the band room.
(more to come)