The human mind has the enzymic power at some lethal and struggling moment, have the power to increase the enzymes and ions in your body to contract more muscular strength, but it takes a lot of concentration....
Back to the psychotic killer's POV! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The walk home was relatively quick, due to the fact that neither of us wished to be soaked by the snow, or freeze to death. It was obvious she was intoxicated; she wobbled a bit with each step and some of her words were slurred. "So what's your name anyways?" I turn my head towards her, continuing to walk. We're now approaching the road where her house is located. "Amy. W-what's yours?" She trips over... Over her own feet I presume, and giggles. "My name? You can call me... Kevin." A lie. But I can't very well tell her my real name. Not a smart move at all considering I'm attempting to end her life. If it went terribly wrong, for some strange reason, I'd suffer life in prison... or worse. We've now reached her complex and Amy leads me to her apartment, where she stops at the door. "Thank you for walking me home." She smiles slightly and turns to unlock her door. "It's no problem at all, I hope you have a goodnight." And with that, I tread back down the stairs. An hour trickles by before I successfully attempt to break into her home. Carefully I pick the lock, eager for my reward, but cautious of making noise. I eventually hear a click and allow myself in, only to be greeted with noises and a light emanating from a room down the hall. What is she still doing awake? I hadn't planned for this. I lock the door and exit the apartment, closing it inch after inch with every step. New beads of sweat form on my forehead and roll down my face until I've finally made my way out of the complex and back towards my house. Damn. This will have to wait another time. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Again, sorry for the poor quality.
It all goes back to that one night, I was walking around my house like any other day. The house was loud. The TV was blaring, the dishwasher was on, and I felt as if my ears were ringing. This night ruined me. The terrible memory haunts me. The depression didn't take long to kick in. The alcohol to suppress it eventually formed a new problem. I walked into my bedroom, with the plain white walls, and the soft bed with red comforters and matching pillows. My wife was usually waiting there, in some revealing outfit to cheer up my day just a little bit. My wife was beautiful, and I loved her more than anything. Her soft looking face, luscious lips, and long brown hair were all just parts to her lingering beauty. I didn't deserve her, yet somehow managed to keep here. I usually came home and we hugged, and kissed, and other things adults do to show their affection. It was all perfect. We were completely in love. Coming home and wrapping my arms around her perfect body was the one highlight of my day. Solving small crimes became boring after while. Constant murders, and lost money... It was all not important to me. She was the only thing I cared about. I pounced on my soft bed, and laid down on the comforting pillow. But I heard a crunch, and sat up and looked at the pillow. There was a small post-it note. The note read: Dear Jack, By now you've probably realized something is wrong. I have left. I left everything to you, and have found a new life. I am sorry, but it has to be this way. I feel no love for you anymore. -Michelle My heart sank a little. But that was just the start of me becoming cruel, and cold to those around me. I can't even imagine why someone who loved me so much just a day before left. They try to tell me I can find someone else. I'm 35 years old with a beer gut and nothing to show for myself but debt and a nice shelf full of beer and vodka. Ha, that's charming right? Sometimes I doubt the fact my wife left. It makes no sense. She left with nothing, and managed to survive. Impossible! No point in wondering now. Now I'm just a drunk fool with nothing to live for. My job is on the line, and my liver must be failing by now. My life is over. The snow is engulfing me now, freezing me to death as I lay in the cold. Too drunk to remember my apartment number, and too ignorant to try and sober up. It's all over now. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I felt like making my update interesting! Feedback appreciated.
I like it! But perhaps a bit more about how he felt when he read the note would have been nice, because it seemed to me as I read it that it didn't bother him much, despite me reading that he was upset.
I flip through the channels wearily and smile to myself. The bright light of my TV was illuminating the whole room. The walls looked as if it had been painted with strange shadows that seemed to be watching me... It scared me slightly. That's when I realized it was getting late. The more I stared at the TV, the more it made my eyes feel sensitive and contracted. But then i remembered Kevin. It warmed my heart to know that such a sweet man existed. It was so dark out, I didn't even know where I was going. I honestly don't know what I would have done if he wasn't-- Click. I hear a musky voice greet me and I immediately jump up, throwing the remote in the worn out sofa. "Jack!" I grinned brightly as I ran up to wrap him in my arms, "Welcome home, Jack!" Jack laughed and raised his eyebrow, his lips curved up in sweet smile. "You are cheery! And... drunk." he said as he pinched my nose. I frown, "Jane ma--" "Say no more!" he laughs and walks in, throwing his keys on the glass table by the sofa. "First of all, the keys don't go there. Second, I just vacuumed the carpet! You better take those off, who knows where you've been!" I yell, pointing at his shoes. "Speaking of which, where have you been? I called Jane and she said you had left a while back." "Oh I just..." I shake my head, "B-But, don't worry! This really sweet guy walked me home." "...Amy. I told you to be careful about strangers." "I am! I promise! But um..." "Hm?" "We ran out of sugar..." I replied timidly, as I push my hair out of my face. Jack never responds back, he just rolls his eyes and walks straight to his room. "Your shoe-! Ah!" I rub my eyes and chuckle. Strange thing just hit me though, he doesn't have work today... I wonder where he was? My eyes shift over to the small gold rimmed clock over the T.V. and I follow the arrows to read that it's 1:12-no wait, 1:13 am. I blink to myself and wonder why Jack came home so late. Was he looking for me? I shrug and drag myself to my room. My fingers turn off the switch and I flail in the dark until I find my bed. I then jump in, pulling the blanket over me and squirm in happiness. God, it's soft. I decide after much consistent rolling that it is much too late now to be asking my neighbors for sugar. My mind flashes back to the man I ran into the streets who was drinking and stumbling in the streets like a madman. I wanted to help him but... he left by the time I had gotten to his lane. He looked so broken... I wonder what could have happened to him? As I think to myself, I make a note in my mind that I will go knock on his door first thing tomorrow morning and ask for some sugar. After all, he is my neighbor.
Yay, next update! Though the other detective and the little girl are deceased, I shall see what happens. I woke up, dreaming of the lost woman still dead on the floor, as she was beautiful, preached on a rose bed, her neck gaped with sudden grace, but she always had a gloom look on her face. She never seemed to be grateful of no sort. As the animals in my dream perched up to her, her head would just droop, and her tears fell from her, sizzling to the ground. Upset. Another given nature of humans, where we stand alone and forgotten, when we feel nothing has been left to other, and they will never feel at their bliss containment of a safe environment. The woman looked dead, and my eyes lit up from the ground, noticing I was still in that house where the rotting smell of flesh lay. The woman's body was wrenching, and her eyes were popping out of her eye-sockets, eyes still as her body. Pain arose from my whole body, but I felt better than last night, i suddenly ran out of the house and went to a telephone booth, my eyes watering from the image of the rotting corpse. Pick up, pick up. Riiiiiiiiiiiing. Riiiiiiiiing. "Hello?"a voice rang out. "Hello?! Yes, can you track the address? I found a female body, and she's dead, and I need help quickly." "Ma'am, calm down. Well be right away." I sobbed,"Thank you." Then the phone hung up, and I buried my into my hands, sitting at the edge of the crime scene, waiting for some sort of savior to help me.
My turn once again! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I draw my breath and exhale a sigh. No kill, therefore no blood. No blood equates to zero happiness. Last night was almost as big a letdown as my parents. Ahh, my parents. They were a blessing and a curse. The memories of my childhood are not happy in nature, but rather, the building blocks that created my lust for the succulent nectar of humans. Throughout my young years, I'd been abused. I've felt it all; slapped, punched, spanked, even the belt. I remember my trepidation at any sudden movements, how my body would tense and brace for a lashing. How pathetic. It wasn't until my young teen years that I'd finally worked up the courage to turn my life around. My story is gratifying, in its own sense. It's truly amazing... It's as if wires in my brain were finally connected, and I resolved to do what was right. The memory, although created so long ago, is incrediably vivid in my mind. It had been a short period of time, and I savored every moment of it. There would be no screams, no resistance. A simple slit of the throat in the middle of the night and the deed was done. As the crimson red liquid trickled down the small pocket knife that I'd found in a pair of my father's pants, I rejoiced in my newfound freedom. And I felt so alive. Now I stand in front of the mirror and stare at the man in who gazes back. His curly jet black hair is in a dirty mess. The increasing length of facial hair above his lips and along the sides of his face are proof that he needs to shave. Bloodshot eyes resulting from lack of sleep are evident. However, all that must change if I am able to capture my prey; the lovely Amy. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Another bad update. Sorrrrry!
I'm glad you all like it. Honestly I wasn't sure how I'd do on the whole backstory, but I felt I needed an explanation for why "Kevin" is this way, considering people usually have a reason for why they kill others. =p
Mhmm... I've been told the same from another person, but it's always possible to slip in a bit in the future.
Hmm...I find it interesting how you don't discuss anything about the plot before posting, and having no idea when the next person will post, nor what their update contains. This concerns me a bit, because you might clash in the future. Just a concern of mine...