When your hands get cold from being in the bloodbath that you have been creating since you started to write…. No one, not a single entity can save you from it.
Ohh, I remember the very first time I wrote something. I remember, I didn't get the satisfaction until I killed someone with that very pencil… geez I was 4 at that time. Haha, the only genius work my stupid mother could do was potray my murdered father as a suicide. Thank you dear mother, for giving me such a fabulous idea. Ahh what were those days. No one would even consider that a kid as young as 6 years old could kill someone, or so many.
I recall all the murders I committed, standing in front of the cops, smiling, as they thought of this cold-blooded psychopath. I don't usually count the number of people I killed. I used to, but it was hard to keep a count after a certain point. You don't know, it's a tough job being a serial killer. I'm guessing it might be around 55-56 approx., and surely no less than that. In 28 years of my life I feel that it's a good amount of killing I have done, though of course, I could have done better.
Hey, don’t judge me! It’s not easy to always portray a murder as a suicide without getting caught. I'm getting bored now, until then I'll atleast plan out how to make a century
“Please follow me to the interrogation room.” Ahh, finally something interesting. This is going to be fun!
I enter the steel packed room with only one vent for air flow and a CCTV camera at the top right corner of the room, recording every move I make. In the centre is a wooden table with two chairs on each side. Alone in this room would feel like torture to any normal human. The only thing you can hear is your heart beating and your mind thinking.
A woman enters wearing a black pencil skirt, white blouse and over it a black blazer. She enters the room with confidence. I love it when women show confidence, they look so sexy. Now this conversation will be more interesting than being interrogated by an old ass man with a will interrogate me.
“So Mr. Winterbottom, why did you kill this man?”
“I don't know! You tell me?”
“So you admit you killed this innocent man?”
“Isn't it your job?”
“You really want it this way? Well then, okay. Tell me, why did you portray it as a sucide?”
“If I didn't, I would have been here much sooner.”
“So you have killed someone else!”
“Someone, somemany! “
Ohh, the look on her face when she realised there are more bodies. The most satisfying thing about this job.
“Are you suicidal Mr. Murderer?”
“Aren't we all? “
“You agree! You are suicidal.”
“So you have been in the past?”
“Hasn't everyone wondered what it would be like to die? Since I’m accused of murder, doesn’t it follow that I would explore the idea of self-murder as well?”
Author : Eshani Kashid
Editor : Anousha