reply to post by Night Star
Once I started to train in takedowns, and submissions I trained in lethal takedowns. I basically learned to cut off the air supply and kill the
person. The first one I did, in the class of course, I got hit in the ribs. Hard enough to make it hard to breath, I will never forget that pain, that
realization that I was still human. Well human to some degree. I had to take that shot and I was thankful that I didn’t end up in the hospital
again. I developed something sort of like a flack jacket, but for my ribs not just my chest. It wraps around the front part of my body almost to my
back. What I found out is that the jacket didn’t let me crouch down. In fact I couldn’t do many things that I should be doing with it on. So I had
to modify it, Instead of it being on solid piece of metal its in sheets. Those sheet tuck behind each other so I can crouch, its still hard to bend.
Then I found that the metal was cutting and pinching into my skin. So I had to grind each one down, it was such a b itch Marcus. After that I had to
make them quiet. I remember one night I went out in it and I shouldn’t have. It was a bit loud too. I don’t know if the person I was following
could hear me and signaled someone else, or they just had a friend behind them but next thing I know I’m hit in the back of the head. I fell forward
and I see that person run, then I felt something hot. Then I blacked out. I woke up in an alley with a brand. I think something is hunting me Marcus.
Anyway that is neither her nor there. So After a bit of trial by fire, it came together. Then I started to think “Wait what if someone sees my face
and gets away, or just sees me do the deed?” I had to come up with a mask. I wanted to be scary; I wanted my inner demon to be put on the surface.
So I created this mask. It’s a dark blood red mask made of steel, it’s twisted into a devious smile, too big for the face and it has horns as
well. They are medium, but what I did was pad the mask so I could head butt someone if need be and puncture their face. It looks wicked Marcus, but I
didn’t stop there. I have a costume, can you believe it. I’m not a super hero, never want to be. I like being bad. So the rest of the outfit is
that jacket I made, but its form fitted, and trying to explain to the man who modified it for me that it wasn’t to go on a shooting spree took a
bunch of time.
I panicked and told him it was a bear suit I was working on. Bears in New York? He bought it. Or he didn’t give a fcuk, I paid him two grand for the
modifications so I’m sure he didn’t. I cleared my house that night, I thought he would tip someone off, and you would come storming though my
house. I did those modifications before you even knew I was killer. You must have heard me grinding those plates away in my garage. Anyhow, after the
modifications I painted them black, and for my pants I couldn’t just wear jeans. It would throw the whole thing off, so I made pants with plates,
which was worse than the jacket. They were heavy, clunky and loud as s hit. So I was toying around with some of those rubber stripes with the cloth on
one side? I don’t if you ever used them for anything. I lined the grinded outside of them with it and it worked. I had to have those modified as
well. By a different person this time so that dude wouldn’t double change me.
I told that guy I was a street luger. He bought that, and I was proud of that one. Shoes, now when it comes to my shoes I need something that has
support but also cant be traced to any store. I had to get modified shoe to match. Killing Alex was getting expensive. I checked a few leather shops
and only one did shoes, I guess he had the marked cornered, everyone else was doing sidles, cowboy boots and S & M gear. So I tell the guy, I need a
boot that has support, but I can be agile. It can’t be too heavy but I also need it to be steel toed, and must have a good grip. Do you know what
the fcuker said? One thousand dollars, I said no of course. So he dropped it to eight hundred and I said yes I was desperate. So he made a boot from
scratch. They fit great by the way. Wait. Did I just give you a clue? I think I did friend. So now I’m all modified, ready to kill.
I need something to kill with. Now I was thinking at the time that I wanted to bash Alex’s head in. I would use a bat, but that doesn’t give off
the type of fear I wanted. I wanted him to piss his pants; then again I wanted to take my time. So the bat was off the table. Then I thought I would
use brass knuckles and beat him to death that way. Then I thought I would beat him to death. He took my life so I would take pieces of him. A knife.
Its light weight, then I thought two knives. Even better I thought. So I went looking for good knives. It’s a lot harder than you think. There are
so many out there. Some for hunting, some for boning, some for filleting, it goes on and on.
The first thing I thought was a Bowie knife, come to find out its not so small! That I would use to skin him, but I also wanted to stab him a few
times too, but decided to just fillet him slowly. So I bought two, just in case it got messy and I had to kill him on the spot I could. I wanted to
knock him out, then take him back to where I would kill fillet him, then chop up the parts and make a collage of sorts. Then wait for the cops, you
guys would shoot me, plan over. Life is funny like that. So how would I knock him out? I can’t get chemicals, I don’t want to hit him and risk
killing him. A live kidnapping was in order. So I bought disguises, quite a few of them. I got a tree keepers outfit, an electrician, I had a delivery
outfit just incase I could walk up to his front door kill him right there. It was always an option.
I got beards and hair, and I brought my suit just in case. I watched and I waited. Waited for my time to strike. It came, three months later. Hundreds
of cups of coffee, dozen times of chickening out, thousands of micro naps, five close calls with the cops, one search, and a fcuk load of luck. It
came. He would go to the movies every other Sunday during the day. I would tag along some days, and some days I would sit in the theater with him. He
never saw me. I thought he did once, I was paranoid and though he knew, and left like a crazy person, but he never did. Well he went to the movies,
but went and seen something that was out for the past four months. He usually goes to any new movie he likes, which his taste in movies sucks by the
way. He parks. I park next to the nearest exit I could see. I put a fake beard on, as fast as I could and a cap and grabbed some duct tape. I get
there just in time to hear the person say what theater it is. So we are sitting there he is munching away on some popcorn, and I thought “how
perfect”, I looked around there wasn’t anybody in the theater but him and me. It was early on Sunday and I nearly spilled my coffee when I seen
him come out.
The whole three months he didn’t come out of the house until after two on Sundays. So he is sitting there, and I’m eyeballing the exit sign next
to the screen. So I just did it, no time for chickening out. I slowly undid the duct tape I brought with me, just enough to get it started around his
head. I snuck up behind him and sat down, he didn’t even hear me. I waited for him to finish the last handful of the popcorn then I struck. Only I
hit his chin. He failed and I panicked again, I ended up choking him, until he was unconscious. I wanted to pick him up, but just then someone opened
the theater doors. I almost got illuminated in the light, but managed to steal his wallet to look like a mugging. I got the tape too. I darted to the
exit just as i heard someone ask if he was okay. I got to the car and sped away.
I was so angry Marcus, it bubbled inside me and it needed to get out. I pulled over and found a stray dog. I pulled out some beef jerky and got it
into the car. I took it home and I broke its legs and then bashed its head in. It still didn’t help, I almost gave up right then and there, and then
something happened while I stood in the living room. I don’t know what, but I became hot, and couldn’t breathe, my heart started to race and I was
sweating. I thought for sure I was having a heart attack; I started to reach for my cell phone then stopped myself. If I was going to die, then let it
happen. So I lay there trying to breath, and all I remember is just telling myself that I would see my wife and child soon. I woke up in the bathroom
on the floor in a pool of blood.
I was bleeding enough to almost cover the whole bathroom floor. I peeled myself off the floor, and that awful sound hit my ears. The blood crusted off
as, I stood up straight and looked into the mirror. I had a sizeable gash from one of my Bowie knifes on my chest and in the mirror was written “You
have work to do”. I almost fainted. I didn’t remember writing that, and you know me Marcus I don’t do s hit like that. I don’t drink but that
night I did, very heavily as I stitched up my own chest. Ever since I woke up on the floor I felt, weird. Like something else was living inside me,
like it was there and I just woke it up. The whole time stitching I didn’t notice the pain, I don’t know if it was because I was drunk or what.
I remember passing out that night and in the morning feeling great. The cut hurt but it let me know I was still alive, and the cops didn’t break
down the door so I was okay. Only now, he was more paranoid, and I observed a security van outside of his house on my last drive by. I can’t have
him see the same car now driving by his house. I stopped stalking him for a bit after that. In that free time I started to practice where the mouth
was when I was behind him. It took a while and I got good at it. Then I started to mess with wires, they hurt my hands then I thought again. “What
if I drop my weapon? My prints will be all over it” I swear Marcus I needed one of those “How to dummies” books! I was so scared back then.
After your first kill something dies in you, maybe it is you. Now when I choke a person to death I feel nothing. I’m not bored don’t get me wrong
its fun, just no more adrenaline. I guess that’s where you come in huh?
So now I needed some gloves, I went back to the guy who did my boots. I told him I needed my brass knuckles bonded with the leather. He gave me a
funny look then I dropped a grand and a half on him from my wife’s insurance money, and he got to work quickly. When done I had something that
allowed me to climb, but would knock your teeth out if you crossed me. They went up to my elbow with leather crisscrossing straps, and as a bonus he
added steel plates on the forearms for blocking. He added some grip tape like material to the hands, its weird. It’s like leather with skateboard
tape? I don’t know what it is. I think he kind of knew, but don’t blame him and don’t arrest him either. He is a good guy just trying to make
some money. So hand covered with some extra fire power, no prints.
I went back later and had him make me some sheaths for my bowie knives. He didn’t bat an eye. I wrapped the wire around my hands and it was perfect.
I would choke him, and then duct tape the mouth take him to where I do my work. I can’t tell you Marcus sorry, that is my sanctuary all covered in
blood. So I still had the time on my hands to wait for him to cool down, or slip up. They always do. I came across this article about my kind. They
say we choose our victims according to our child hood experiences, almost like it’s in our DNA. So what happened to me as a kid that I choose the
people I do? A nun? A pregnant woman? I must admit that one was messy, but you needed to be on the case, its always been you. I killed a few people
that Alex knew just to get to him. Am I really a serial killer? Do I have a pattern? I wouldn’t say that I am. I fell like a demon, and evil force.
So I came up with the name demon. That’s it. I finally have a name!
I think I just like to kill, and I think I do it well. I know how to stage a good crime scene right? Anyway. after a while he became less paranoid,
and started to slip. He bought a gun and went to a few classes and got a license. He carried it everywhere, so I started to learn how to take a gun
away from someone. Its all about speed and surprise. One night he was taking out the trash and didn’t turn his security lights on that day and
hadn’t noticed until he went to the side of his house. He paused and for a moment I thought for sure he would go back into the house and turn them
on. He didn’t, so what I did was go into his house! I just walked right in and on the kitchen counter I seen his gun. I took that and put it under
the sink.
I went over to the bathroom, because the light was out and none of the house lights shone into it. It was just a dark hole in his house. I waited for
him, and he came waltzing in without a care in the world. Probably laughing at himself for being so scared. I didn’t have my mask but under my
clothes I had my jacket. He sat on the couch; it was twenty feet from the bathroom and behind the bathroom wall. I could see him though a mirror he
had hanging on the wall next to the bathroom door. I just sat silent and watched him, like I did for all those months. Then I felt hot again, and
this thing inside me started to get restless. I had to calm it by biting my lip. He went to the kitchen and I heard his feet stop. I didn’t hear the
fridge open, or the sink turn on or a cabinet. He was looking for the gun.
He started to walk to the bathroom, probably thinking he left it on the counter. Then he stopped and went to the couch. He lifted up the cushions, and
I came out of the bathroom just as he turned to go to the bathroom. I threw an elbow to his face and a great waterfall of blood splattered down the
front of his white shirt. It was beautiful, I wanted to cry right there at its beauty. He fell back into the couch and I had to restrain myself from
killing him right there instead as he is hitting my face and my ribs, which I could feel because of the jacket, I pressed my forearm into the side of
his neck. It pinned the other side of his neck to my other forearm. I had the left inside of my forearm on one side and my outer forearm on the right
on the other. I tucked in, and soon he was gurgling and trying to yell and soon stopped flapping around. I didn’t have my tape with me I had
forgotten it half way though my walk I was pissed. So I searched his house I had to wear oven mitts to search and I looked stupid. So finally I found
some in a junk drawer. I taped his mouth shut, and the fcuker woke up! He started hitting me again, I had him on the floor so I just put my knee into
the side of his neck and he passed out faster and easier than last time. I taped his hands feet then taped his hands to his feet. I took the tape with
me. I wiped off the front door handle and the screen door handle before I picked him up and put him in the hallway next to the door.
edit on 18-7-2013 by Tylerdurden1 because: (no reason given)