People believe these murders were fake, at first. Then they saw the bodies for themselves. Ever since, they’ve been bolting their windows and doors. I for one, saw the murderer. I couldn’t tell if it was male or female. Long, black hair, pale white skin, and it always was wearing a black, tight suit.
And I think I could remember the story.
On Saturday night, Louis and his brother Kris were sitting on the staircase, watching as their parents thought. Louis never saw anything so violent, but this feeling urged right through him. It was strong, but not strong enough for him to push it away.
“We should go back to bed, Louis.” Kris whispered a little too loudly, and his parents turned around to see them sitting there.
“Kids, go back upstairs. Now.” His mother said. The last thing Louis saw of his parents, was the knife in his fathers hand.
When Kris and Louis were in bed, Kris was asleep but Louis wasn’t. Louis listened to the screams of his mother.
The next morning, before Kris woke up, Louis started crying softly and ran downstairs to see his mother. Her head, on the other side of the room. Her chest, intestines all spread to the floor.
Six years later, Louis watched his father eat at the table.
“Eat your food, Louis. Now!” his father shouted. Louis continued eating, but after he was done, the urge went through his body again.
Louis never wanted to speak again after seeing his mother, but he needed to tell someone.
After all, Louis was now fourteen years old.
“Kris. I need to tell you something.” he whispered. Kris nodded and they both walked into the kitchen.
But before Louis could speak, his father slammed the door behind him.
“Kris. I have this feeling. I can’t breathe..I can’t do anything. The urge..I need to hurt..something.” Louis tried explaining, but Kris got this frightened look upon his face and screamed. Suddenly, the urge took over Louis’s body. He grabbed a knife off of the counter, and lunged towards Kris.
“Louis!” Kris screamed. But those were his last words until Louis plunged the knife into his throat. Kris was still alive, trying to crawl away from his brother. Louis grabbed his fathers baseball bat, and whacked Kris straight in the head with it. Blood, pouring from Kris’s mouth.
“Sorry, baby brother.” Louis whispered into his ear. He grabbed his fathers butcher knife, and chopped Kris’s head off.
The next morning, Louis woke up in his bed. He looks at his brothers bed, and wonders where he could’ve been.
“Kris! Where are you, baby brother?” Louis kept asking when he walked downstairs. Tears filled Louis’s eyes when he saw his brothers head, rolled across the floor, just like his mothers. He had been beaten to death, by something.
His father walked in the door, and his eyes widened.
“L-Louis.. what have you done to your brother?” he asked, as tears poured from his cheeks.
“Me?!” Louis screamed. “I didn’t do shit!” Then the urge rushed through him. As his father was sitting next to his brothers body and cried, Louis grabbed a knife, a lighter, and alcohol.
Pouring it all over his father, his father didn’t even notice! Until Louis cuts his father in the back with the knife. His father yells and glared at Louis.
Louis laughed hard.
“What’s so funny? Faggot?” his dad asked, crawling towards him.
“What’s funny? You have alcohol all over you, and I have a lighter.” Louis whispered, and throws the lighter at his dad. Louis laughs hard again and runs out of the house, as it sets a large fire.
That’s all I knew of Louis Anderson. Sweet, little boy. Until his mother died one night. The demons that surround us all, can connect to your heart and make sure you have an urge to kill.
One word of advice?
Don’t turn around.