Chapter 8

253 40 24
                                    

It was a warm day outside. Probably one of the last times I'm outside in a long time. The warm sun hits my skin as I am being taken to a police car. Feeling sense of realist hit me in a way, I realize I am pretty much screwed. I'm going to be locked up forever, but that's okay with me. They all deserved to die. Each and every one.

Being shoved into the backseat with my hands handcuffed, I get a surprise of being spit at by the deeper voiced police man which I could now see had a beard, very muscular and was a little older than me.

"Scum like you," he sneers. "I hope you rot."

I start to laugh. "Don't you think that's a little harsh," I raise my lip up like a little kid being cute.

Giving me the death stare for a moment he slams the back door, and sits in the drivers seat waiting for the other officer to come back.

He sits there in silence for a couple minutes, I can tell he's thinking. Thinking of how messed up this all this is. Probably even thinking of becoming a officer was worth all this. I'm not sure though, I can't read minds, but I can see the emotion in their eyes.

After a few minutes I feel a tension building and I feel like he's going to say something. He then begins to say something, I was right.

"Can you just please tell me exactly why you did all this," his voice cracks. "Is killing them just a hobby to you?"

"Go ahead tell him," the voice snickers

I twitch at the sudden reappearance of the voice, but quickly build myself back together so he doesn't see anything is wrong, or nobody else does.

"It's simple, I was setting them free. This world is cruel, a living hell, and I was doing them a favor by killing each and every one of them," I explain. "It's not that I'm crazy, it's more I am the only who can save people. Even if I only saved a five."

For a long moment there was silence again. That silence that even the smallest noise could cause a heart attack. I know he's freaked out even more by what I said. He wouldn't understand, how could anyone. It was one of the most complex things, but one of the easiest to do if done right.

"Fuck, you need help. Major, major help," he almost mumbles. "It doesn't matter how you look at it because at the end of the day you killed someone who didn't want to be "set free." You took lives that didn't want to be taken, and it's horrible."

Before I can respond I see the other officer hurrying to the car, and opening the passenger door. He's out of breath, and still has the door open.

"Sorry, sorry, I just couldn't take being in there anymore," he pauses for a breath. "They'll be here soon. We can wait here till they do, and then take this sicko to jail."

"Yeah, I agree," the deep voiced officer says.

I cough a couple times on purpose to get the attention towards me more.

"I'm right here guys, that's mean to call someone a sicko," I try to sound upset.

They ignore me, and I sigh out, and lay back more in the seat. This was a slow, slow process of just getting into a damn car. I listened on their conversation and they were talking about moments apparently that were funny to them, and just all this pointless crap. I see the ambulance come by after listening to these buffoons ramble on for forever.

Without much warning we started to drive off, and the journey to life in prison was one step closer to me. Great. It was a busy day so there was a lot of traffic, and we sat behind cars for what seemed like hours at a time. Nothing could be worse than this.

"Bored?"

"You have to be kidding me," I whisper to myself.

The voice sighs at me, and is quiet for a moment before speaking again.

"We can talk if you're as bored as your thoughts tell me," it offers.

"I'd rather not talk to you. You're the reason this happening, and I am not exactly pleased," I growl at the voice quietly.

I hear the voice mumbling things that I can't understand, and after a few seconds it seems to be done with its little fit.

"You'll have to chat with me one day, Henry, for now good luck, and by the way my name is William. Remember that, and say my name if you need help."

Before I have a chance to yell at him, he is once again gone. Coming again, and then leaving for getting annoying to me. Was the person me talking to myself, making up a different personality, or was it a spirit maybe even a demon. I don't know, but I am too pissed to have a nice long chat like he seems to want to have.

The car ride took around twenty more minutes before we headed to the police station. This was going to be a interesting encounter. They're going to want legitimate answers to their stupid questions. If they're going to laugh and hate on me for my reasons, then I'll make fun of them too. I'm not just any other killer in this world, I am completely different.

I am now being pulled out of the car, and am pushed to the door where I enter, and see many people stare at me. They being to walk me towards a hallway.

"Keep on staring, it's definitely not creepy," I chuckle as I being walked down the hallway.

Walking down the hallway we stop at a door, and some people come back and are talking to the two police officers. They're whispering, so I can't hear what it's about, but I know it's obviously about me. After that random discussion they open up the door, and reveal what's inside the room.

"Dad?" I almost yell. "You died years ago. What is this."

My world came spinning around a big ball of confusion again. I almost couldn't comprehend this situation. The unthinkable happened, my dad isn't dead after all, and know I see him once again in my time of life where I known as a monster.

Eyes Of DeathWhere stories live. Discover now