TITLE: In The Mind of a Killer
RATING: R
DISCLAIMER: Nothing belongs to me except the computer and clothes on my back......actually, those are being repossessed by the IRS.....I own nothing.
SUMMARY: A dark fic.
NOTES: WARNING: Character Death*** I'm stressing the darkness and strong R-ness of this fic. You've been warned.
It's the dripping that's driving me mad now.
Not the voices.
Not the faces.
The dripping. It echoes in my ears, the sound magnified beyond comprehension. It echoes to me the things I did. The things I've done. The things I will do.
It's always there, taking over all other sounds in the room. This quiet room. This dripping room.
It's the dripping that's laughing at me now.
Telling me I'm nothing. Because I am nothing. Telling me I'm pathetic. I am pathetic. Telling me that there's no reason to stop. I can't stop. Telling me that they'll never catch me. I want to be caught. It laughs at my conflicting thoughts. It laughs at my voices. It laughs at the faces that haunt me. Her face.
Drip.
She deserved it. Deserved to get gutted. She's nothing. Bitch. Whore. Laughing at me. And it never stops, no matter how many I hurt, how many kill, it never stops laughing.
Drip.
I know she never laughed. It's my fucked up mind that thinks she did. She just wanted to stop me. Wanted to do the one thing I couldn't. I don't hate her for that. At least she tried.
Drip.
I hate her. She wanted to bring me down. All those bitches just want to bring me down. They think they have power over me. Those sluts think I'm not a man. I'll show them power. I'll show them whose the fucking man. I showed her.
I laugh. It's funny how one sound, one constant sound ringing in your ears, can bring a man to his knees. I'm on my knees now, looking at her. She's not looking at me. She can't. I don't remember how I got here. I don't remember my first victim's name. Sally? Sandy? Sarah? Maybe it's better if she doesn't have a name. Better for me.
Drip.
Of course, because all I ever think about is myself. Like I matter. Like I made a difference to her. She just wanted me dead. Oh, the irony of it all. Stupid bitch got hers. She can't laugh at me now. She's stone cold, and I'm glad she was a screamer. It's always better when they scream. Makes me that much more hot.
Drip.
No. No. No. No. I can't. I can't go on like this. She didn't hurt me. She just wanted to kill me. Isn't that I want? To die? To finally be stopped and go hell. It's what I deserve.
Drip.
But it felt so good.
Drip.
The smell is still branded on me. The blood still stained. She didn't make it easy for me. Who would have?
Drip.
It's more fun that way.
Drip.
Stop. I have to stop this. I can't wait for the police. She was the police. She couldn't stop me. Only I can. I have to stop this. It hurts too much breath. To see her lifeless face. To hear the dripping.
DripDripDripDripDrip.
I take her gun off the floor. It fell there when I stabbed her the first time. After the third, she stopped trying to get it. I take one last look at my work. It's disgusting, revolting, as it always is. I see the blood dripping from her body onto the concrete floor.
Drip.
Drip.
As I put the gun to my temple I know that at least she wont be nameless. At least I know that her name will haunt me in hell. It's what I deserve. I know once she was Olivia. Once she was alive.
The dripping stops and the only sound that fills the room is an echo of the gun blast.
She killed me after all.
RATING: R
DISCLAIMER: Nothing belongs to me except the computer and clothes on my back......actually, those are being repossessed by the IRS.....I own nothing.
SUMMARY: A dark fic.
NOTES: WARNING: Character Death*** I'm stressing the darkness and strong R-ness of this fic. You've been warned.
It's the dripping that's driving me mad now.
Not the voices.
Not the faces.
The dripping. It echoes in my ears, the sound magnified beyond comprehension. It echoes to me the things I did. The things I've done. The things I will do.
It's always there, taking over all other sounds in the room. This quiet room. This dripping room.
It's the dripping that's laughing at me now.
Telling me I'm nothing. Because I am nothing. Telling me I'm pathetic. I am pathetic. Telling me that there's no reason to stop. I can't stop. Telling me that they'll never catch me. I want to be caught. It laughs at my conflicting thoughts. It laughs at my voices. It laughs at the faces that haunt me. Her face.
Drip.
She deserved it. Deserved to get gutted. She's nothing. Bitch. Whore. Laughing at me. And it never stops, no matter how many I hurt, how many kill, it never stops laughing.
Drip.
I know she never laughed. It's my fucked up mind that thinks she did. She just wanted to stop me. Wanted to do the one thing I couldn't. I don't hate her for that. At least she tried.
Drip.
I hate her. She wanted to bring me down. All those bitches just want to bring me down. They think they have power over me. Those sluts think I'm not a man. I'll show them power. I'll show them whose the fucking man. I showed her.
I laugh. It's funny how one sound, one constant sound ringing in your ears, can bring a man to his knees. I'm on my knees now, looking at her. She's not looking at me. She can't. I don't remember how I got here. I don't remember my first victim's name. Sally? Sandy? Sarah? Maybe it's better if she doesn't have a name. Better for me.
Drip.
Of course, because all I ever think about is myself. Like I matter. Like I made a difference to her. She just wanted me dead. Oh, the irony of it all. Stupid bitch got hers. She can't laugh at me now. She's stone cold, and I'm glad she was a screamer. It's always better when they scream. Makes me that much more hot.
Drip.
No. No. No. No. I can't. I can't go on like this. She didn't hurt me. She just wanted to kill me. Isn't that I want? To die? To finally be stopped and go hell. It's what I deserve.
Drip.
But it felt so good.
Drip.
The smell is still branded on me. The blood still stained. She didn't make it easy for me. Who would have?
Drip.
It's more fun that way.
Drip.
Stop. I have to stop this. I can't wait for the police. She was the police. She couldn't stop me. Only I can. I have to stop this. It hurts too much breath. To see her lifeless face. To hear the dripping.
DripDripDripDripDrip.
I take her gun off the floor. It fell there when I stabbed her the first time. After the third, she stopped trying to get it. I take one last look at my work. It's disgusting, revolting, as it always is. I see the blood dripping from her body onto the concrete floor.
Drip.
Drip.
As I put the gun to my temple I know that at least she wont be nameless. At least I know that her name will haunt me in hell. It's what I deserve. I know once she was Olivia. Once she was alive.
The dripping stops and the only sound that fills the room is an echo of the gun blast.
She killed me after all.