The Doodler Origins

The Man who pushed the money to the reaper

I looked at my kill. I looked over it proudly like a hunter and his game. An idea came to mind. I dipped my fingers into her blood, and took Mothers head, and drew my tattoo on her face with it. Now people would know. That I was out. Or at least someone was. I heard a distant siren, and it was getting closer. Crap! Her screaming must have drawn attention to the neighbors. I looked around for anything that I needed to take with me, and then ran out. As I was running, I saw a flash. I stopped to look at what it was. It was a man. And he had just taken my picture with his phone. As I had stopped, he took another picture, with my face looking at the camera. I rushed toward him, with my sword at my side. Once I got to him, I punched him in the face, and slit his throat. I dug my fingers into his throat, crushing what I assumed was his voice box. I drew my fingers out of his throat, and they were covered in blood. I drew my tattoo on his face, with his blood. The sirens were getting closer, so I ran. I ran until I made it to the woods, that were right up close to the house, and scrambled up a tree. Hopefully the cops won't think to look up. I had scraped my hands on the bark, unfortunately. I watched the police as they started up the crime scene. I clutched my bag as I straddled one of the branches. I was up high enough that I could practically walk on the room of the house if I was close enough, and it was a two story house. So the police weren't about to find me. I guess that I was going to have to stay here until nightfall. I saw one of the police men pick up the mans phone, the one who took my picture. He started scrolling through it. He must have found my picture, because his head moved back in surprise. "It's a child." He said. He showed the officer next to him. He responded with "is that a floating sword?" Yup. And be thankful I'm up here, because if I was down there you'd find it in your throat. I thought. "We got another damn creepy pasta." The first one said. Creepy pasta? What the hell was that?

BOOM.
I saw a huge flash of light coming from behind me. I looked behind me and the tree. There had been a huge explosion, that was by the school area. "That came from Techno High! My daughter goes there!" I heard one of the officers say. Why would someone blow up a sch----
Ada. She's there. She's gotta be living in the techno high area. And where she is, father will be.
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Finally, the sun is setting. I climbed down from my tree, being careful not to make a sound. There where still some officers observing the crime scene. I booked over to where the explosion was, stopping along the way to grab a hoody. I needed to keep a low profile to avoid getting caught, and let's face it. When your entire body is covered in tattoos and you have half of your head with short hair and the other with three feet of it, and blood on your hands I might add, you tend to get noticed. After stealing what I needed, I made my way. As I was walking around, I saw someone cross the street that looked so god damn familiar. I followed them. Their phone began to ring. They looked to the side, giving me a good look at who I was following. It was Jacob! My fathers best friend. I took of the hoodie and started walking to him. I had a drawing of my katana all ready drawn from my time in the tree, so I took it out and made it pop off the page. He was standing in the light of a street light, still chatting away on his phone. I stayed in the darkness, and slide my blade on the concrete sidewalk, making an eerie noise. He heard it. He stopped talking and looked in my direction. "Hello? Is someone there?" He said, turning off the phone. I charged him, knocking him on the ground, and I stomped my foot on his chest, so he couldn't get away. He gasped, and was staring at my tattoos. In a sing song voice I said "why hello there Jacob. It's been a while, I believe you have some information that I require." I waved my katana in a circle and then had it hover just above his nose. He went cross eyed staring at it. "W-who are you?" He whimpered. "It's me, Samantha Jones of course! And I want to know where I can find my father. I want to repay him for what he payed my late uncle to do to me." I replied. "Samantha? No, you were supposed to be dead! I payed Tim good money for Daniel! You were supposed to be dead!" This stopped my un my tracks. "And what do you mean your late uncle? I saw Tim just this morning!"
"I killed him, numb skull. I also killed my mother, and some guy who thought he could take my picture. What do you mean, you payed Tim for my father? Why does everyone want me to suffer?" I said, throwing my hands in the air, and I made the sword have a tiny bit of pressure on his nose, causing a slight cut. "Y- You killed them? Their dead?" He said, his eyes full of fear. "Dead as a door nail. Now answer my questions or you'll find your self with a third nostril. And you don't want that, now do you? Now tell me, why does everyone want me gone?" I said, figuring one question at a time was all he could handle. "Y you've always been different. We knew something wasn't right! Something dangerous about you, made us un easy. We could sense you had a dangerous power. And low and behold." He said, gesturing to my sword, that was atop his nose. "You realize, if I hadn't been treated as poorly as I was, I NEVER WOULD HAVE TURNED OUT THIS WAY." I said growling. I pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Does this have my fathers address on it?" I said. "Yes."
I nodded in satisfaction. I tried to unlock it, but to no avail. "Passcode?" I said, glaring at him. "1317." He said, nearly whispering. But I could hear him just fine. "Next question. Did you really give my father the money to pay for my torture?" I said, regaining my sweetened voice. He hesitated before answering, like he was afraid. As he should be.

"Yes. I did."
I put all of the force I had into my katana, bearing it down on his head, he was dead with an satisfying snap and squish. His blood began pooling out from underneath his head. I with drew my sword from his Broken skull, and willed it to disappear. I dipped my fingers into his blood, and drew my tattoo onto his face, dragging my fingers across the entry wound. I stood up. I killed the man who had pushed money to the reaper. And it felt good. I smiled.
It's funny. I first started out as a small child, a doodler. Then I became the artist, and now, here I am. The murderer. How funny. I opened up the phone and found Fathers Address. I began walking down the street to find the home of my next kill, in the darkness.