Detective Killer

TRIGGER WARNING! also includes cuss words, murder and suicide. Please do enjoy though.

“How’s the case c’ming along?” My assistant said whilst prodding his nose inches from my laptop screen.

“S**t, literally s**t, I’ve got nowhere, and you’re not helping at all!” I said in annoyance.

“Oh sorry, I’ll move”

“I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT THAT YOU’RE NEVER IN THE OFFICE TO HELP ME, YOU SHOULD KNOW WHAT’S GOIN’ ON AND YOU DON’T! WHY? BECAUSE YOU’RE NEVER HERE! Sorry, look that doesn’t matter my shift ends in 3 minutes just grab those files and put them in the bottom draw to your left please.” My job is hard work I work 12 hours a day, 8am to 8pm, then I go to a pub, get drunk, go home and pass out, completely forgetting the events of the night before, so yes, I do have a short temper but at the moment it’s needed there is a serial killer on the loose if I don’t put my foot down and let awkward annoyances do whatever the f**k they please, this case is going nowhere. *bang*

“JAAAMMES!!” YOU HAD ONE JOB, HOW DID YOU DROP THE FILES?!”

“S-s-sorry I didn’t mean to they just fell”

“OBVIOUSLY, PICK THEM UP NOW!”

“Ok, sorry boss.” 

This, this is what I mean, how do you mess up putting 12 files in the draw 2 meters away from you? Honestly he would be fired by now if I could get a new assistant on such a short amount of time.

“I thought you said you were getting nowhere? Here you found out that the killer tattoos coffins onto his victims arms, that’s something.”

“I’m about to crush you, that was an obvious thing any amateur could’ve seen that, you stupid idiot, anyway I’m going, turn off the lights before you leave.” I said, honestly this guy, he gives me worse headaches then my hangovers could dream of giving.

I leave the office at exactly 07:59pm hoping not to miss my 08:05 bus.

When I get to the bus stop I notice someone following me, oh s**t.

“James, why on earth are you following me? You stupid cow.”

“Are you the killer?” He asks whilst shaking and looking at the floor avoiding eye contact.

“What the f**k are you talking about? OF COURSE I’M NOT THE KILLER YOU COMPLETE IMBECILE!”

“You tattooed a coffin onto my arm about a week ago when you were high and or drunk, it looks identical to the one in the photo.” He rolls up his shirt and, holy s**t, he’s not lying, but I don’t remember doing that. Could I be doing it whilst I’m to drunk to even say my own name? But I can’t to tattoos, and if I’m drunk surely it would be harder, and besides, I’m a detective just because I’m drunk, sometimes a bit high, doesn’t mean I’m going to go around killing people, I wouldn’t allow it, no he’s being an idiot again.

“James I’m not the f*****g killer, I probably just remembered seeing the tattoos he draws on his victims and because I was hi- slightly drunk I drew it on you there’s no poss-” I was cut off

“Well what if your doing it when you’re ‘slightly drunk’?”

“JAMES I’M NOT THE SERIAL KILLER! JUST GO HOME BEFORE I FIRE YOU!”

James burst out laughing

“What?!” I ask in confusion

“I WAS JOKING” he said through wheezes, “I BELIEVE YOU, I DON’T BELIEVE YOU COULD HURT A FLY!” James was now on the floor rolling in laughter. I really really could punch him right now but what if he has a point? What if I am the killer? I can’t punch him it’ll make me look really bad, I start laughing with him.

“YOU REALLY GOT ME THERE” We are both wheezing, only one difference, I’m faking.

My bus arrives exactly on time, I get on wave goodbye to James and start heading back my normal route to the pub.

The bus arrives at my stop 12 minutes later, I get off and start walking towards the pub, normally I get a free beer there as I’m a customer they know so well, but today I turn around, today I’m going to be sober will there be a kill? There’s been one every day so far, the one day I don’t get a drink, will there be no kills? Maybe I’m getting nowhere because I am the killer, I’m not going to suspect myself am I? I walk home barely looking out for where I’m going, though I don’t know whether or not James’ theory is true or not I’m still leading an army of guilt like a snails slime trail, it’s coming right from me.

When I got home I got straight into bed and at first I thought I would be to guilt-stricken to sleep but, my head is so crowded I fell asleep in seconds.

Ring, ring, ring, ring

My phone woke me up, I pick up my phone and it’s James calling me, and s**t IT’S 9AM!

I pick up my phone tempted to call in sick today.

“BOSS! GREAT NEWS!! THE KILLER DIDN’T KILL ANYONE TODAY! Also where the hell are you? I told the people at work you were off with a vomit bug.” 

“Th-thanks, you know it’s funny I do feel really quite sick today.” I wasn’t lying either as soon as James told me there had been no murders a wave hit me dead on, I felt instantly sick, overwhelmed with guilt, I feel as though I’m going to pass out.

“Isn’t that great news?! Boss? Boss? You there?” Holy crap I didn’t realise he was talking.

“S-sorry yeah it’s great, I’m really happy right now, I feel like I’m going to pass out though so I’m going back to bed, bye Thanks by the way.”

“No problem, make sure you rest! Also, try being sober for a day, it may make you feel better.”

I hung up, right now I would give anything to be drunk, this overwhelming feeling, have I really killed people? No! It has to be a coincidence, right? Despite my eyelids shutting without consent I had to stay awake, I had to see through this, surely, surely I’m not a killer, right? But what if I am? I couldn’t live with the guilt, I couldn’t live, i wouldn’t live. Maybe if I stay sober for 2 days then get drunk for 2 days? See what happens then.

4 days later

I was sober for 2 days. No deaths

I was drunk for 2 days. 2 deaths 

This is no coincidence, I- I, I hate to say it but.

“I’M A MURDERER” I screamed through cries of pain, I didn’t want this, I don’t want this, I didn’t mean to, I don’t mean to. I’m confused I’m out of my mind.

“Rio.. you killed people” 

“Rio, your a murderer”

“Rio the world would be better off without you” nobody’s in the room yet I hear voices and screaming, I hear cries of pain and images from my murders I remember it now, it’s all clear, I really did kill them, I shut my eyes, trying to clear my head.

Drip, drip... drip... drip.. drip

I can’t take the dripping, why does the tap have to be faulty? Why’s it so loud?

I open my eyes my room is drenched in blood, or my victims blood dripping slowly from the ceiling.

Drip drip drip

I let out a deafening scream through cries of pain. I didn’t realise I could kill people, I didn’t want to kill people.

“But, Rio you’ve done it now, there’s no going back, you can’t erase time, it’s happened, you’re a killer, FACE IT”

“FACE IT, FACE IT, face it, face it, FACE IT!”

Those words they are on repeat in my head so many voices.

“Rio, you left a mother in pain, you left 3 children without their dad, you killed 52 people leaving all their families in hurt, you slaughterer you’re to sick for man kind, leave this earth”

“I WANT TO” I screamed these voices they are crowding my head, I don’t like it.

“P-p-pl-please- please MAKE IT STOP, please I DON’T LIKE IT PLEASE” I screamed through agonising tears

“Rio.. that’s what your victims screamed as you killed them” visions of the dead fled through my head, their cries of plead unheard by anyone but the drunken me. I’m screaming, but I can’t hear myself it’s as though everything is on mute apart from the terror, they’re dead, I’m hearing silence, I’m hearing the loud silence of the dead, I can’t do it. Through screams of the ones I’ve killed and the silent cries of my horror I pick up a knife and painlessly, this is what is needed, I slit my wrist watching the blood pour out through my cries and silent screams and the cheer of the voices I heard before and the still turning pictures of the 52 dead bodies. I am now dead, nobody will suffer from my hands again.