Something Sundays: Killer

The man was laying on the bed provided for him, arms folded and hands crossed behind his head. It was lights out in the prison, and as always his mind wandered back to those he had killed. He was twenty years older now, but the memories were as fresh as the blood he released from their arteries. The iron-tang of haemoglobin filled his nostrils. The slick crimson coating on his hands yet to turn sticky and copper-brown.

He remember their faces. All nine of them. And he remembered their last words.

“Please… die.”

He blinked, his eyes opening. That wasn’t what-

“Just die now.”

“You waste of oxygen, hurry up and die.”

Panicking, he tried to move, to get up from the bed. His hands were locked to the back of his head, a fire surging through his skull.

“You don’t deserve to live.”

“Come on and die already, there’s nothing for you here.”

“No one loves you, no one cares, you’re worthless. Die, it’s all you’re good for now.”

There was the taste of blood on his tongue, a slow trickle sleeping down from one nostril to his upper lip and into his mouth. He tried to call out, his jaw refused to move no matter how much effort he put into it. None of his limbs worked. His heart pounded faster in his chest, skin now drenched in the cold perspiration of terror.

“They all hated you, and they were right. Look at you, you’re pathetic. Please, go and die now.”

“Everyone can die, it’s easy. Or are you too stupid to know how to do that?”

“Die now. Just die. Die now. You need to die. You’re going to die. You’re dying right now. Are you dead yet? No? How about now? Or now? Wait…”

He started to convulse, thrashing about on the simple single bed with his limbs twisting and muscles bunching in frenetic spasms. His back arched up as his mouth drew in one gulping breath, face pulled into a ridiculous gurn of agony and fear before locking in that expression as he fell back down to the bed.

“Now.”

‘Newbury Nine’ Serial Killer Found Dead In Cell

Author’s Note: The idea for this story came from a headline in a tabloid newspaper, about a serial killer who may have faked needing to go to hospital. I don’t remember much about it, because it was the subheading that got me. It said: “Please Die” says victims of serial killer.

Of course, by victims it meant the family of the actual murder victim, but the seeds were planted for a story.

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