Killer Story

Reporters lined up in mobs scrambling and fighting to get to the front in hopes of getting a glimpse of the country’s deadliest serial killer in decades. Of course the killer tried to speak to the media, but he was shoved into a dark suv while lawyers and police just yelled no comment.

The biggest question might seem like it would be why did he do it, but perhaps an even bigger question was did he do it? Was he really the one that killed over and over for three decades? How had he evaded detectives from the FBI to the CIA. He even left clues behind and that made it even more a mockery. His crime scenes were so  clean they never had any incriminating evidence. The media is asking why won’t authorities say who was the one that caught him or how did he get caught?

        You see the truth is, that well, he is and isn’t the serial killer they have been trying to find for over thirty years now. Please allow me to explain. My name is Gustavus Gramble and I use to be a detective before I got my PHD and became a Psychiatrist. One day, lets call him, oh I don’t know, how about Mr. Slash and bash. Which is really quite fitting if you ask me, but then again nobody really does ask me much of anything, unless they need me to look at crime scene photos. Then, I’m top priority. Well, I am until they hear my diagnoses and they just nod saying brilliant work Gus and run off to take the credit and steal the glory for themselves so they can get a promotion. Anyways sorry, here’s how the real story went down. 

        Rain pelted the window of my office and the soothing jazz background music was putting me to sleep when I heard sloshing boots just outside the my door. My receptionist knocked and announced that Mr. Slash and Bash was here for his 3:00 appointment.

        “Thank you Janice, hold my calls please.”

Mr. Slash and Bash walked in and I gestured to a comfortable chair.

I sat there smiling just waiting for him to speak. He glanced around the office for a good while and made small talk.

        “Sorry the weather isn’t more compatible.” I said

He frowned and looked at me.

“I like the rain. Most people tend to mind their own business and don’t notice you when its raining. I feel like I can go anywhere without being watched.”

I nodded and wrote down possibly paranoid on my notepad.

He seemed to like talking to me and asked questions about confidentiality. He would talk about wanting to strangles and stab different random people and I recorded his dark rantings but after each time he smiled and said of course I would never do that. But just think of the power of taking a life, it could be such a rush.” He said

“So tell me about your dreams?” I asked  What followed was more of the same kind of gory bloody slaughter.”

When his time was up he would always say you think I’m crazy don’t you?

        “I think you know what you want and you aren’t afraid to do it whether it’s in your dreams or fantasy’s. You still allow yourself to explore life and death without restrictions or constraints or conformity.” I told him

        He nodded and grinned at me.

The weeks that followed I asked specific details about the killings and technique he used. He elaborated in great detail and even landmarks that he used to find his way out of the woods.

        I always collected any hairs of his and put them in a plastic bag.

After a month and a half of therapy he said I helped him more than anyone ever has and he wouldn’t need to come to therapy anymore.

I had done my research and even going as far as pulling strings and getting details from crimes scenes that were not in the newspapers or crime reports. I read over all the case files and based on his explanations I was able to piece together the crimes he committed and figured out where eight more bodies were that had never been found. I had him followed home one day and waited for the perfect time. I had a professional lock pick help me pick his lock and disarm his alarm. I placed the map where the undiscovered bodies were and put a red X’s on them and hid it in his house. I also ripped pages out of a notebook so I can write the clues of the murder on them. Then, it was easy enough to find a victim that fit his typical MO. His secret was that he hid murder kits in spots where he planned on killing his victims. The kits usually consisted of items like shovels, plastic bags, a hunting knife, a hammer and chemicals like bleach and others to help decompose the bodies.

        So well, I murdered the poor soul and of course I got no pleasure in it, except the fear and adrenaline of getting caught. It made me throw up, but I left a two of Mr. Slash and bash hairs at the crime scene. Then, I remembered how he always said he waited about two months and he would strike again. So I did it again too. I found another person that fit his victims and repeated the killing just like he described. I left a cup that had his fingerprints on it and a note that sounded like the ones he left in the past. I also left two of his hairs at the crime scene on the body. I also made a phone call to police describing him exactly and saying I saw him leaving the scene of the crime. He was arrested within a few hours and the police searched his house. Of course they found blood on his floor that matched the recent victims. I mean I had to put some hard evidence besides the map didn’t I?

Now you might ask why did I do it? Was it justice or vengeance or something else entirely. One might say I comitted the perfect murder twice, single handedly put away the most elusive serial killer this country has ever known, and I saved countless lives in the future by putting this monster away. But the most interesting thing is I have five more clients just like Mr. Slash and Bash and they seem to love to talk about their so-called fantasy murder sprees. Guess I’m going to be busy the next few months.