watercolor killer

Part One - killer's perspective

A/N: Please comment where you think this is going!!!

You pull open the white wooden door of your modest home, fetching your keys and cell phone before you step outside and inhale the fresh, late-April air. A wave of breeze shakes the trees, but you are not cold. In fact, your blood is boiling.

Your hands tremble as you fight off thoughts, thoughts that could and would get you jailed for all of eternity. The urge was so powerful and the reward so sweet, you were committed.

As you walk toward your midnight-blue Subaru, your head fills with your sister's screams. Her blood-stained face. Her dead body. You get an overwhelming urge to inflict pain. To cause that terror to someone else. To ruin someone's life.

You get in the car and turn it on. The AC starts whistling. You pull out of the driveway, noticing the blue paint starting to chip around the garage doors. You head towards the Watercolor Palms community - an expanse of vibrant colors and identical beach mansions.

As you enter the neighborhood, you notice that many families are outside. The weather is nice, not too chilly. You see many people playing Cornhole, grilling burgers, or just relaxing outside in the cool night air.

And then you spot him. Him. The man that has caused your lifetime of pain, hurt, and mourning as an older brother. He's drizzling mustard on a hot dog. This man was rich. He developed the Watercolor Palms neighborhood. He was a plotter. And, worst of all, he was a murderer. A kidnapper. Ruined people's lives.

His daughter cracks a joke, and they all laugh. His daughter makes him so happy.

"He deserves no happiness!" You mutter to yourself in the car, gripping the steering wheel so hard that your knuckles have turned white.

It's decided. Your first victim: Alec Dawson's daughter.