Insane

His blood is everywhere. I suppose I should have been more careful and maybe keep this cleaner. I could have. But then again I wanted to enjoy this. I wanted his eyes to scream for mercy, I wanted the pain that I felt be his. I wanted him to beg for the hell I was going to send him to.

The walls yell at me with crimson spills. The floor is a pool of what hospitals beg us for. I was not careful at all. I do not regret it. I suppose some will judge me now. Some will consider me guilty, mad, crazy or maybe too big a fan of Slasher movies. This does look like something out of a Wes Craven movie. I feel kind of proud. Such butchery to one who deserves it, I feel like I avenged every single one of the horrified unpunished acts in the world. I haven’t, but it feels like that. Wonder how long this feeling will last?

Three days earlier

-You are nothing but a lazy good for nothing. Why should I let you pass this exam?

The teacher in front of me treats me with disgust. I am young and I don’t study and he feels he should fail me as to somehow teach me a lesson. If he only knew my train of thought, I suppose it would scare him half to death. The other half I’d kill out of mercy. Why am I thinking this? I have plans. This does not even concern me. It’s a social practice that I must endure while I finish what I have to finish.

-How much time have you given to your studies?

-Not that much. Other subjects have gotten more. It’s no excuse, but the exam period is a hectic one.

-You should study more. You’re a bright kid and if you actually applied yourself… Ah. I’m going to pass you. BARELY. If this happens again, I will not give you the same leniency.

-No sir. I guarantee you this will never happen again.

Look at me smiling as to somehow please him. It’s pathetic that I have to pretend like this. I’m not lying, this won’t happen again, but not for the reasons he thinks. Soon either I’ll be arrested or disappeared.

-So what did you do?

Ah my colleagues, always the social two faced parasites. Will bash you behind your back and then pretend that they actually give a flying fuck.

-Not so good, but good enough considering how much I studied.

Am I better than them for pretending like this? Sure, I suppose I do it being very aware of it, but is that an excuse? They don’t have one. They’re assholes to promote their self interest and they do so out of instinct. My instinct has always proven to be the wrong one. Actually caring about some of these cretins? However after the last fiasco, actually not giving a crap and doing what’s expected of me out of pure choice of decision... makes me feel a little mechanic. We are Borg. You will be assimilated. Heh.

-So you’re coming with us to get a drink right?

-Ah sorry, no. I got to get home and finish some stuff up. Rain check guys.

Yea. I need to sharpen my knife. I need to practice lock picking. I need to plan my actions to the letter. This must go perfect. Well… until he’s dead. Then I guess shit can hit the fan, but until then I must be methodical about this.

Present

Come on you piece of shit, cut; should’ve brought an axe. Seriously, cutting him up into pieces with a knife is painstaking and even messier. Why the hell am I even doing this? I said I won’t care after he’s dead. Self preservation I guess. Then why don’t I just get the hell out of dodge? Nobody heard me. The muffle made me the only one to know of his pain. People would just think some random fuck did this. Shut up! You know better. You’d be the first one to be considered. You can either run now and leave your old life behind and consider this a fitting end to it, or stay here and relish in your dead and show the world that sometimes you have to pay for your betrayal.

Two days ago

Up up, feel the bolt roll and… DONE! 30 seconds! Oh yea, personal record. The door will not be an obstacle. And to think that someone spend so much time designing a lock to hold people out. A few days of constant practice and I’m passed it? Is it actually this easy to plan to kill someone? Lots of details sure, but none really that require a bachelor’s degree. Given enough planning, anybody could kill anybody.

-Lunch!

-Coming.

I wonder how my parents will feel about this? I think it’s actually irrelevant. They have no say in the matter whatsoever. Well maybe if they wouldn’t have pushed me to go into THIS university, I wouldn’t have met her and she wouldn’t have met him and… bah I’m thinking about it again. That’s done. Now it’s time for the betrayers to pay the consequences.

-Looks great mom!

Looks like crap mom.

-Glad you like it. It’s something new. I read it on the internet.

Why does she always try these stupid experiments on me? I just wanted a clean omelet. But no! I get Mexican squab with toadstool. Hoorah for me. What if I tell her that soon I’ll have my last meal under her roof? Maybe I’d get something nice, simple and good.

Present

And two bags of crap filled to the break. Nice. I wonder where did my fear go? About an hour ago I was trembling in front of locked door, questioning my planning, my motives everything. Now I feel no regret, I feel free, I feel calm. I even feel a little hungry. The room looks like the inside of piranha’s stomach and I feel hungry… Heh.

Five of hours ago

Everything is packed. Parents are asleep. Half the town is asleep. I’d best prepare to go. What am I talking about? Everything is ready. I am prepared. Then why do I feel like … like there’s a ton of bricks on my head. I suppose it’s the last bit of social indoctrination left within me. Killing is bad, everyone is entitled to their own life. Bullshit. If there’s one important truth that I have ever learned is that in this world we live on the whim of murderers; thank you Alan Moore for that piece of truth. It’s true to every degree. We live on the whim of what others might do for their own need or pleasure. Some … most, will trample you just for kicks. It’s time to trample back.

Present

T R A I T O R! Ah now if that in blood doesn’t look like the mark of some insane maniac I don’t know what does? Maniac. I guess that’s what they’ll call me. Society won’t even give a crap about what he did. I’ll get judged. Oh the lunatic. He couldn’t handle it. He was always a bit strange. If anybody calls me quiet or says “it’s the quiet ones you have to watch” I’m killing them to. Judge me. That’s retarded. What I did was a consequence of what he did. I reacted to someone truly putting their own interests in front of causing me pain. But that’s just how humanity works I guess. “Hundreds laid off due to automation of the construction line”. Society goes “that’s just how it is”, completely ignoring the moral atrocity of leaving someone without a job he’s trained his life for and by god might love to do. People care about themselves. So why judge me? I just did what this dead fuck did. I did something for my own personal pleasure at the expense of his wellbeing. I guess people are bothered when confronted with their own atrocities. Besides… who gives a crap anymore? He’s dead. I feel fantastic.

An hour and a half ago

Stop god damn shaking. If you shake while you do the lock he might wake up. And what if he does? Then you run. A thief in the night, he won’t know it’s you. It will give you a chance to let this horror behind you. You’re going to kill a man. No. I’m going to torture him. Then kill him. Do I want to do this? Yes. Why the fuck am I shacking? Because that’s how I was taught to feel. Oh jumping fucking Jesus do I really need to? Was what he did that horrible? Yes and no. Alone it wasn’t. But it’s not the first time people have acted like this. He’s just the unlucky straw that broke the camel’s back. Now man up and do it. I loved her. And he took her away. No regard for how you felt, just fallowed his erection. I loved her, he didn’t but he still decided to rip that away from you. Sure, she didn’t love you because she went through with it, and she would have left you eventually… but a friend taking her away. You die, you son of a bitch! You die for her and for every single other piece of crap that people have ever did to me. NOW OPEN THE DOOR!

Present

By the time the police come I could be long gone. Should I leave? I still can get away with this. There are no prints, no hair, no one knows I was here. Hell. If I leave now, he’ll only be found on Monday when his parents come back. I can go back to my normal life. They might try to put it on me as she might say I did it. But I can fool them all. I might be suspected but not convicted. I could run. Leave this world, let them know it was me and let the world fear that someone who doesn’t take this kind of crap is out there. I could call the police myself. Confront the world. Say it loud and proud “I tore him to pieces, but I only returned the favor”. What should I do?