Fire & Ice Fiction

91

I woke up today feeling like a corpse. My limbs ache but my body is cold somehow, and my heart is beating slower than usual. Could this be it? Hopefully not, I haven't reached my death quota yet. If I don't reach it then I have failed at the one thing that gave me purpose. I have killed 91 people without being caught, and all I need is 9 more to be secure once I'm gone. Most of you might be wondering who I am or what I do for a living. It's simply stated- I am a serial killer. My goal is to kill 100 people before I die, and so far I've done a remarkable job of not being caught.

I'm not exactly sure where I'll go or what will happen to me once I die, but I know I will die with a clean conscience. You see, I had a dream when I was a teenager. I'd say 16 years old. In this dream I was approached by a being- it being an angel, demon, or something else, I'm not too sure of. This being told me that it was my fate to kill 100 people before my time ends on this Earth. If I completed the quota, I was to receive a great prize in the afterlife. I was not told how much time I have left to live, but I woke up in confusion. I was 16 and impressionable. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, so killing 100 people before I die was a challenge that would make my life so much more exciting.

I spent the rest of my high school career doing nothing but studying how to be a killer. I watched documentaries, read books, you name it and I probably read it. As soon as I graduated I packed my things, got into my shabby van and drove far away. My parents were under the guise that I was off to some college in another state, not knowing that they'd never hear from me again besides a short call that I'd make every month or so. I drove what seemed like centuries, just burning as much gas as I could and driving as many miles as it took to get me far away from any one who knew of my existence.

Flash forward back to now, 7 years later. I'm 23 and I've killed dozens of people. I've heard dozens of news reports of a brutal serial killer that seemed to be everywhere at once. That was me, and I was proud. For once, I was proud of myself. Prouder than anyone could be. I've been alone for 7 years of my life, so I've never made any attachments to the people I kill or anyone in general. That made it much easier for me to get the job done.

There's a body in the trunk of my car that needs to be disposed of, so I guess I'll do it now. I'll probably make a shallow grave in a cemetery since it's dark out. No one goes by cemeteries late at night anyways- for good reason.

Driving to the cemetery I felt like there was a hole in my heart. My chest was so heavy that it was hard to breathe. I brushed this off as a bad cold and kept driving to my destination. I parked on an empty street beside the cemetery and discreetly carried the small, limp body of a dead elderly woman to a hidden spot in the cemetery. I dropped her body and dug for what seemed like hours and just rolled her body into the grave.

I began to cover her body with dirt, while the feeling of death crept over me. I didn't notice this at first, but I felt my hands getting cold and numb. My heart was beating at an inhumane pace and my brain began to slow down. I dropped the shovel onto the ground and fell to my knees. My time has come. I'm dying at only 23 years old, with only 91 bodies to my name. With reluctance, my body dropped to the ground. My eyes were still slightly open, and in my vision was the partially covered corpse of someone I had murdered. It was just me and her. Then, everything went black.

For a moment, there was peace. Quiet. Nothing at all. No sound. Then, for some reason I felt a rush of energy flow in and out of my body. It was still black all around but in large, white, illuminating letters was the number '91'. It was then that I realized once again, that I had failed. I was so ashamed of myself, but more than that, I felt fear. I've never felt fear during my life, but I was feeling it now. I was terrified of what would happen to me next.

I gained consciousness again, but I was not in the cemetery. I didn't really know where I was. I sat up but I couldn't feel my body, it's like nothing was there. I was in some sort of dungeon or prison-like room. In the distance I could hear clanging and the faint sounds of screams and groans. There was a faint smell of mold and death in the air. My mind was racing as I realized that I actually was dead. And soon after, I came to the shocking realization that I was in Hell.

It became quiet for a second and then the silence reignited with a loud bang. I suddenly felt a creeping sensation of death. It was dreadful. I could not only feel it, but I could hear it, and smell it, too. And then, I could see it. Standing- or hovering before me was the being that had been in my dream during my lifetime. It did not speak for what seemed like eons, but then I heard its voice. It echoed throughout the entirety of the room, and I could feel it in the depths of my Soul.

It said to me "You have not done what I asked of you. What do you make of this?" I racked my brain for an answer that I did not have. I had never thought that I would ever see this being again. I didn't think it actually existed. I assumed it was my brain making things up to make my dreams more exciting. I didn't answer it, because I was damned either way. However, I did ask "Where am I? Hell?" To which the being responded "No, you are not. Hell does not exist. Only purgatory, and that's where you soon will go."

It took me a while to process what I'd just been told. Not just from fear, but also because of confusion. All my life I was under the belief that Heaven and Hell existed, and that I would be sent to either one once I passed away. That belief didn't change after my dream either. It just provided an incentive for my life. If I were to kill 100 people before death, I would be granted into Heaven. Thinking about it now, it's paradoxical. Killing dozens of people would never grant you into Heaven, it would send you to the depths of Hell.

I'd been so deep inside my thoughts that I forgot where I was, or what was in front of me. The being then told me "You have collected 91 souls. When I came to you in your dream, I told you 100. You were not fast enough." I never thought that I would die at 23, and I never thought that I wouldn't complete the quota. "What happens to me now?" I said with my strongest voice. The being was quiet for a while, but then finally it uttered. "You have disobeyed my orders, and now you will pay the price. You were not enough."

Not a second goes by until I am falling through what seemed like a hole in a volcano. I finally landed in a substance- a green, luminous substance. All around me, are the souls of the 91 humans I killed. I could hear their dreadful moans and groans as they swam above and beneath the surface. They are all lost, swimming around perpetually. Is this the afterlife? I assumed so, so I began swimming. And I kept swimming. Eventually, I stopped thinking entirely and my soul took over. Swimming, and swimming. My soul begins to moan and groan with them, for eternity.