Bloody Hands


I wake up with a pounding headache.  The last thing I remember is someone buying me a shot at the bar.  It was only my second drink of the night but I must have gone crazy because I don’t remember what happened after that.  I slowly open my eyes and look around.  I am not even in my apartment.  This place is a mess.  I must have really had too much to drink last night.  There is a broken mirror, a lamp on the floor, and the bed has been flipped.  This is why I avoid drinking.  I have no idea what I did or how I got here.  I hear someone sobbing.  I can’t tell if it’s screaming in my head or if it’s coming from somewhere.  I still can’t settle in.

I walk towards the closet in the room.  The sobbing is getting a little louder.  The door is locked but I break it down.  It’s a giant walk-in closet.  In the back of the closet is a guy hiding.  He seems familiar.  I think I saw him at the bar last night.  He was hitting on a bunch of women.  He was a complete ass who thought he was some hot shit.  He kept grabbing at them and inviting women to go with him.  He sees me and yells “I’m sorry! I just wanted to have some fun!  I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!”  I see blood streaming down his head.  This guy has been through some shit.  He gets up and tries to run past me but without even trying I catch him.  My hands go around his neck.  Without knowing where I get the strength I pick him up by his neck.  His feet kick.  He can’t scream anymore.  His face gets red and he tries to pull my hands apart but my grip is too tight.  His eyes roll into the back of his head and his body goes limp.  I have no idea what I just did.  I mean I just killed a guy.  But I don’t know how I got the strength.  I’d never killed anybody before and now I had done it with my bare hands.  I see his body just lying there.  I walk towards him and grab his head.  I twist till his neck snaps.  There is no doubt he is dead now.  His head is turned to the side.

I am panicking because of what I just did.  I want to run away from this mess but I can’t.  I walk out of the room and go down some stairs.  This place is a mansion.  This man must have some good money.  I pick up some keys from a table and walk outside and get in a car.  It’s a black BMW.  When I get into the front seat I can barely fit in the driver seat.  I put the keys in the ignition and my hands on the wheel and they seem gigantic.  They do not look like my hands.  They are scarred and gigantic.  I look at the rear view mirror and the eyes in the mirror are not my eyes.  For a second I feel like I once again have control of my body.  I look around but as soon as I stop looking in the mirror I lose control of my body again.  I try to see what else I can see but I don’t get a chance.  I start driving.  I have no idea where I am going.

Finally, the car pulls into a parking lot.  I walk into a grocery store.  I pick up an apple and eat it in two bites.  I worry that someone just saw me eat it.  Then I realized that I just killed a man.  Stealing an apple is the least of my worries. Some yelling catches my attention.  There is a kid who is crying as his mom and dad yell at him.  The dad raises his arm and smacks the kid right across the face.  Then the mom grabs him by the hair and they walk out of the store.  She drags him by his hair as he begs for her to stop.  I begin to walk out the door.  I see them get in a white pickup truck.  I squeeze into my car and follow after them.

After driving for 20 minutes they pull into a small suburban house. I pull up about half a block away. The couple steps out and drags there kid out of the car and make them carry more grocery bags than he can handle.  He trips as he walks towards the door.  The couple just yells at him and walks inside.  He gathers up the bags and slowly makes his way inside.

I sit in my car just watching the front door.  As much as I try I don’t feel I have any control over my body.  The sun begins to set and I finally exit the car.  I make my way towards the house.  As I make my way to the house, I see a huge mess.  The lawn is filthy and has not been mowed in months.  There are bottles and garbage everywhere.  There are two broken bottles where the kid dropped the bags earlier.  I look into a window and see the kitchen filled with trash.  Most of it is bottles of liquor.  Then I look into the living room.  It’s filled with a thick smoke.  The couple is sitting there amongst more garbage as they smoke a joint.  Finally, I peer into the child’s room.  There is only a blanket on the floor and a backpack in the corner.  He is feeding a rat some crumbs.  I walk back to my car and get back in.  The sun sets and night settles.

I stare at the front entrance of the house from my car.   I cannot go to sleep.  I cannot move.  I have no idea what is happening.  This is not something I would do.  I feel trapped.  Then I begin to hear something.  “Kill.  Punish.”  I hear a grumble and I don’t know where it comes from.  It surrounds me.  I feel something strange.  I feel an extreme rage but it isn’t my rage.  The growling grows louder.  “Must kill!” I hear.  The feeling of anger grows.  I try to fight it.  I hate this feeling.  Those asshole parents deserve to suffer but I am not a killer. But despite my efforts, I give into the rage.

The sun rises and I have been sitting there just watching the door.  The kid walks out of the house and goes to the corner just in front of my car.  A bus comes by and picks him up.  The side of the bus says Oakdale Elementary.  As soon as the bus leaves, I burst out of the car.  I walk briskly to the door and kick it down with just one kick.  I go to the kitchen and grab a knife.  I stand there admiring the knife.  After a moment I make my way to the living room.

The couple is passed out on the couch.  The stench of weed fills the room.  I walk up to them and they don’t move.  Nothing can wake them up.  I lift the knife and stab the man in the leg.  He wakes up with a scream.  His wife finally wakes up from her deep sleep barely opening her eyes.  Before she realizes what is going on I smack her and she is knocked out.  The man tries to crawl away.  I grab him by the leg and drag him back.  I manage to pick him up by the leg and threw him through the living room table.  He is yelling in pain.  The rage I could feel turns towards joy.  But it isn’t my joy and I feel disgusting.  I grab the knife and slice into his abdomen.  I plunge my hand into the wound and grab the first thing I can and pull it out.  I reach again and pull something else out.  I am soaked in blood.  He yells and yells.  I am surprised no one hears anything.

I then walk over to his wife who is still passed out.  He won’t stop yelling.  I grab her hair and she finally wakes up.  She tries to run but I grab her arm.  I slice at her wrist and blood begins to pour.  I grab her other wrist and slice it.  There is blood and screams everywhere.  I grab her and throw her on top of her husband.  My arms and clothes are covered in blood.  I grab her leg and snap it making sure that she won’t get away.

I walk out the front door.  I make my way towards my car and no one sees me.  I am surprised that my appearance or that the commotions haven’t gotten anyone’s attention.  I can’t believe what just happened.  Did I do it?  I could never do anything like that.  I mean yeah they deserved to be punished but not like that.  It wasn’t for me to do.  But I didn’t even do it.  I have no control.  I have no idea what is going on.  This isn’t me and yet it is me. Then there were those feelings.  That anger was an anger I never felt before.  It took me over.  And that sick pleasure I felt from the killing.  What the hell was going on?  Who was I? What had I become?  I was trapped and had no control.  But what could I do?  Was I a murderer?

I start the car with no idea where I was going.  A short drive later and I see a sign: Oakdale Elementary.  Why here? The kid was innocent.  I can’t possibly hurt him.  I park by the school playground.  I sit there for some time and finally the kids go out to play.  I see the boy whose parents I just killed.  He walks off by himself and sits on a swing. A group of three kids makes their way to him.  They pull him off the swing and push him around.  The teacher is smoking a cigarette oblivious to what is going on.  The boy falls and he is kicked around.  They finally let him get up and walk away.  As he walks away one of the kids that had picked on him runs up and pulls his pants down.  Everyone laughs at him.  He just walks as if this has happened plenty of times.  I begin to feel that rage.  No, not kids.  They deserve something but after what I just did I know things won’t go well for these kids.  They are just kids.  Recess ends and they go back inside.

I sit in the car trying my best to fight this feeling of rage but it just keeps growing.  I clutch the knife from the boy’s house. I am scared of what might happen next.  The bell rings and kids pour out of the school.  I try to close my eyes but can’t.  The grumble begins.  “Punish!” I hear a voice say.  I catch a glimpse of the three kids from earlier.  They are laughing and roughhousing as they walk down the street.  I slowly follow them in my car down the street.  After following them for two blocks I park my car just ahead of them.  I try not to move but it is to no avail.  I get out of the car and the kids look at me.  “You stink!” one of the kids yells at me.  Another picks up a rock and hits me in the head.  I feel nothing.  Then another one runs up to me and goes to punch me in the crotch but before he can I grab his arm, lift him up and slice his neck.  I toss his body like a rag.  The other kids yell and run.  I chase after them.  My long steps are enough to keep up with them.  I catch up to one of them and plunge my knife right into his back.  I chase after the other one.  He runs up to a house and pounds on the door.  I walk up to him.  “Please don’t!” he begs.  I don’t care what he did he doesn’t deserve this.  I beg for the door to open.  And then my arm plunges the knife into his chest.  The door opens and a woman opens the door.  She yells out loud.  I grab her skull and plunge my thumbs into her eyes.  I push her towards a wall.  I smash her head into the wall over and over again.  When I let go of her body it drops like a rag doll.  I begin to feel that perverse feeling of joy I had felt before.  But it is not my joy.  Suddenly I hear a bang and feel a sting on my back.  I turn around and a balding man stands there with a gun pointed at me.  He shoots and I feel small pinches where the bullets hit.  I catch his arm and twist.  He drops the gun.  I grab for his neck.  I grab at it and tear a chunk of flesh.  He falls to the ground clutching at his neck choking on his own blood.

I make my way up the stairs.  I hope the house is empty.  I walk into what looks like the parent’s room.  I look in the mirror.  I do not recognize what I see.  It is a monster.  A body wearing navy blue pants with a navy blue button-up shirt.  The sleeves and pant legs are too short on this giant body.  On the left pocket, it says prisoner 268989.  Everything is covered in blood.  My face is burned and disfigured.  There are chunks of hair missing from my head.  As I look over my body I realize I have regained control.  I can move and take a control of this body.  There is a phone by the mirror and I make my way to it.  As soon as I look at it and stop looking at the mirror I lose control again.  But as soon as I catch a glimpse in the mirror, I regain control. I have to plan how I will grab the phone while not losing sight of this body in the mirror.  I grab the phone but must now dial without looking.  I try to dial 911 without looking.  These monster hands make it hard to handle the phone.  I try to remember where the numbers are.  “911 what is your emergency?” I hear.  I manage to yell “I killed…” when I get distracted by the phone and lose control again.  I drop the phone.

The struggle proves to be too much as we pass out.  It is obvious that this beast is more than one.  It is two of us fighting for control. And in the darkness, I manage to see him: the monster that has trapped me.   He is bigger and stronger than I am but this might be my only chance.  I rush at him.  He smacks me away with his giant arm.  I charge again and he grabs me by the neck and picks me up.  I cannot breathe.  I lose my breath and pass out.

I wake up.  The monster has control again.  But I see a familiar sight.  I see red and blue lights outside my window.  The police are here.  I look out the window and it’s just one car.  That won’t be enough.  I quickly make my way to the door.  I get there as soon as the cops walk in and see the look of surprise on their face.  They quickly pull out there guns and unload their guns on me.  I rush towards them and manage to grab one of them.  I grab his head and smash it against the wall.  The other one managed to run away and I don’t know where.  I look around the house for him.  I feel another clip of bullets go into my back.  I turn around and see the cop pointing his gun at me.  I begin to lose energy.  I look at my hands and feel the blood pouring from me.  I look up at the cop one more time.  He drops his gun and falls to the ground.  A knife sticks out from his back and I see that little boy from earlier today.  There is that smile on his face.  There is a look of that perverse joy.  I fall to my knees.  Things begin to grow dark.  I feel a slight sense of relief knowing that even though I am dying I will no longer be trapped in this monster.  But that joy is short-lived because as this evil beast dies I see the birth of a new one.


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