Nightmare in the Swamp

Delve deep into the mind of a serial killer as you read through the perspective of Daniel Dornovik, a man who murders three children at his shack, which is near a swamp.

     I set foot into my house. My leather boots were muddy and my brown jacket was damped with blood. I slowly crept into the batroom, which was next door to the room my wife was sleeping in. Silenty, I closed the bathroom door, which made a small creek. I turned on the lights and looked in the mirrior. In the mirrior, I saw a man with a muddy face. The mud covered my face so much, I could not tell it was me. I turned the faucet on to wash my face, and looked down at my muddy boots. I bent down to take them off, and when I took them off, mud oozed out from the inside of the boots.

     I went to take one last look at myself before washing the mud off, and in the reflection of the mirrior stood a dirty and bloodied  girl with black hair that covered her left eye. She looked about the age of five, and in her right hand was a rusty shiv. A rope was tied around her neck, and her feet were without shoes. I staired at the reflection over before gathering the courage to look back, but when I did, she was no longer in the presence. I took a deep gulp and looked back at the mirrior.

     The little girl I saw was not just any random girl, but she was one of the three children I murdered. I tied a noose around her neck and hung her after molesting her and beating her several times. I could remember how I ripped through her dress with my shiv as she screamed for her father to come. I stabbed her in random areas of the body, and touched several areas. I threw her against glass and forced her to kneel on the shattered pieces. Afterwards, I took her outside with a noose around her neck and tied her up a tree and watched her choke miserably. I can remember watching the tears stream down her eyes, and the innocnet face she had.

     I washed the mud off my face, and took off my jacket. I unbuttoned my dirty jeans and pulled off my white shirt. The ground became dirty due to my dirty wears being on it. I pulled off my under wear and opened the shower curtains.

     I stepped a foot back, as I saw chopped up pieces of a young boy the age nine laying in the tub. My lips tightened, and my right hand clinched. The tub had puddles of blood spilling everywhere, and the body pieces looked as if they have began the rotting process. The pieces that lay there were the remains of the second child I killed. After hanging the little girl, I went in my shack, where the two other children were locked. Next to the shack was an axe chopped into a log. I grabbed the axe, unlocked the shack's door, and walked in. I grabbed the boy and battered the axe into his thigh. I slashed it into his wrist, and continued to do so on random parts of his body. The other child screamed as I did it. The boy was screaming his head off, and eventually I decapitated him.

     I blinked several times before the remains have seemed to vanish. I sighed in heavy relief, and pulled myself into the tub. I lay down in it and turned the water on. The water was cold, but it soothed some of the cuts I had. I washed all the ramaining muck off of me, turned the shower off, and reached for a towel, which was not there due to me forgetting to bring one. I let out a deep breath and stepped out of the shower. I silently opened the bathroom door and crept down the small hall where a pantry was. I opened it and grabbed a cyan towel and wrapped it around me. I walked back into the bathroom and dried off. After drying, I sneaked into the room, in which my wife was sleeping, and grabbed some clothes out of the drawers. I slipped them on, and crept back to the bathroom the clean my mess.

     I grabbed my boots, jacket, under wear, shirt, and jeans, and threw them in the trash outside the front of my house. Walking back into my house, I noticed a figure stand near the window in my house. I staired at it puzzled and then ran into the house. I looked in the area, in which I saw the figure, and saw a girl the age of twelve glaring deeply at me. She breathed heavily. Mud soaked her hair and covered her face. She was naked completly, but the dense mud barely revealed anything. I stood there staring at her as she did the same.

     This girl was the third child I raped and brutally killed. I could remember slamming her against the bed ripping off the clothes she had on. I gored my shiv in many inappropriate parts of her body and threw her across the room. She screamed so loud that I stuck my knife in her mouth and cut up her throat with little gashes. After brutally raping her, I dragged her out to the swamp behind the shack, and tired her leg to a rope that was connected to a millstone. I continued to drag her out in the water and pulled the millstone in a deep area. I threw her out there and watched her struggle to breathe. Eventually, she gave up and drowned.

      I walked into the room that my wife was sleeping in, and I lay next to her. A sudden attack of regret hit me as I remembered the innocent look on those children's faces. This feeling was similar to the last pair of children I killed last year. Everytime I murder another child, it soothes the regret for a few hours. I have been murdering for seven years, and not one murder has swallowed the regret completly. Yet, I can remember every name and face I have put out of this world. I slowly closed my eyes and drifted to sleep.

      The next morning, I kissed my wife and told her I was going off to work. I headed down to a park and watched children play, waiting for one to leave site. I sat down on a bench next to a married couple. While sitting there, I saw their ten year old daughter come up to them and tell them she had to use the restroom. Her father pointed towards the ladies room and she sprinted to it.

     I stood up and followed her into it. I tried to avoid anyone spotting me. I walked in there, and I could see her feet in one of the stalls. She opened the door and saw me standing right infront of her.

     I grinned and said, "Hey, kid, I have a doll in my truck for you."

     She looked at me baffled and said, "My mommy and daddy tell me not to take things from stragners."

     I chuckled and replied saying, "They are very wise, but, hey, you can trust me. It's not like I'm gunna snatch ya!"

     She gave out a cute laugh and said, "Okay, mister!"

     "But hey, we can't be spotted by anyone, okay?"

     "Kay."

     She followed me out of the restroom and to my truck. I opened the back of my truck and quickly threw her in there. I locked it with haste and jumped in the drivers seat. I could here her crying for her parents. I quickly drove off.

     I drove for a few hours until I reached my shack. I opened the car door and leaped out of the vehicle. I sprinted up to my shack to grab some tools to use. The door of my shack was open. I always locked my shack, and this sight startled me. I slowly walked into the shack glancing around the room. Everything in it was torn. I gasped and turned around.

     Before me stood an eight foot man with a gas mask and heavy padded armor. The padded armor was brown and so was the gasmask. The glass that covered his eyes was thick and black. In the man's right hand was a pickaxe. His left hand was clinched and seemed to be shaking a little. I stared at the man, and he glared back.

     Suddenly, gas started flooding out of his breathing holes and I started caughing heavily. I ran past the man and managed to make it outside of the shack. My vision became a little more blur, and everything seemed to move a little. I looked behind me to see the man was walking towards me. I started running towards the swamp.

     I got to the swamp, and my vision became a little more blurry. I soon started to noticed heads emerging out of the water. I stepped back slowly, and I noticed out of the swamp came kids that I have killed in the padt years. Infront of them was the most rescent children. They all continued to march towards me, and I turned around. Infront of me was the man with the gas mask. He hit me to the ground and swung his pickaxe at me. I managed to maneuver his first swing, but his second swing came like a viper snapping its head at you. He gored me right in the stomach, and I made a loud groan.

     I watched all the children start to surround me. I looked back up at the man with the gas mask as he swung his pickaxe at me again. He gored me many times in my body until I felt nearly lifeless. He then began to drag me to the swamp. All the children began to scream at me with fire in their eyes. I began to scream for help as the gas masked man took himself under the swamp with me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Hey, dudes, I would just like to see what you guys thought of this story I quickly stormed through. I made it in about four to five hours, so there is bound to be a lot of grammar issues. This is the first story I have posted on here, so tell me what you think!

Reviews

[Merrick Waters]

Yea grammar was something I noticed, spacing could use some work, however the general theme was interesting to me. Descriptions was at time a little forced but for a first draft it's got good bones!