Finding a place to sleep wasn't hard for him. He walked down a dark ally, and in next to a dumpster, he slid into the darkness. The voice came again, before he fell asleep.
"I have decided your first acts of redemption will be of the last people you've killed, before you were caught, and don't worry, I still remember the three guards from earlier"
The growls in pain, as he lifts his shirt to look at his chest, to see three scorched tally marks appear there.
"These are just a reminder that I have not forgotten about your recent misdeeds."
The man held his chest, and for the first time since he was boy, he was solemn. He lowered his head, and silently agreed to the deed.
"You remember your last murders, don't you? Right before Detective James Wisely caught you."
The man sneered at the name, a manifestation of darkness struck out, like a pitch black tentacle, hitting the dumpster, putting a crater in the side, and sending it 15 feet away.
He remembered it, three and a half years ago. It was night, around three a.m… While fleeing a detective, he broke into a home. He was very quiet, the family would never have known. But, the child, who just wanted a damn glass of water, saw him, and told her parents.
First the father came down, with a 7 iron, what good will that do. The father attempted a swing, and black tentacle came out, and grabbed the club, pulling it, and the father into the air. The tentacle pulled him closer to the killer's face, who spoke.
"I just want shelter, I will leave you and your family unharmed. Understood"
The father looked scared, stuttering his words.
"Well, too late, my wife is calling the cops"
He then kicked the killer in the gut. The killer had no time for this, with another tentacle grabbing the father's waist, and his original grabbing his chest, he ripped him in half like Atlas ripping a phone book. The Father let out a horrid gurgle, the girl let out a scream, and the mother could be heard up stairs. He went up stairs, leaving the girl to scream at her father's crimson corpse.
Once up stairs, he saw the mother on the phone. With a nod to her, she started screaming as she held her head in pain, her eyes bulged, and her head swelled. She tried holding it together, but in the end, it exploded like a tomato, and a black sphere was left on her neck, where her head used to be.
Downstairs, the girl tried to run, but the doors were all of a sudden covered by a huge black wall. The girl ran under the kitchen table, crying. The killer approached, and threw the table, and she look up at him. He knelt down, and with a stoic face, rubbed the tears from her eyes, hen broke her neck. The Detective was close, he had to leave.
"Her name was Ashley. She was nine years old. Such a waste."
The man came out of his thoughts, and spoke.
"The Dead are still dead; she is my memory, not yours." His voice gruff, and stoic.
"True and here is your target. A few miles down the road, there is a elementary school. Outside that school, during the night, men deal drugs, mostly to children who sneak out at night. You must kill these drug dealers. They have killed before, so their fate is set. Are we clear?"
The just nods, standing up. 'No sleep tonight, he thinks.' He walks off towards the school; perhaps he will get a set of house keys out of it.
