My First Kill
I had to do it or at least that’s what I tell myself. In order to be in the gang I had to prove my loyalty by taking a rival gang member’s life. Usually someone what there with you, to make sure it was you and that you did kill them. In my case, I was alone. So, I did this…
I don’t know what made me do it, I was getting some chips from the milk bar a few streets away from my house. He was just there, I wanted to prove myself so badly. I followed him to a footpath that goes through the Night Forest, it was pretty quiet but still too far away for anyone to hear or help him. I snuck up behind him and pulled him off the track into the trees and threw him to the ground. I stand above him, breathing short, deep breathes. “Reaper,” he spits.
“Ghost,” I growl back, we were circling each-other like animals, ready to pounce at each-other at any second.
He leaps towards me, I wasn’t ready. I instantly grab my knife and slash. I didn’t see where, I wasn’t looking, my eyes were closed. I heard a slosh and a slight moan following it. I open my eyes and look up; I had cut his throat. He starts to gag as he held his throat in horror, trying to stop the bleeding. He stumbled towards me but falls to the ground before he reaches me. I drop to my knees beside him, gesturing aimlessly, unsure what to do. He slowly bleeds out, right in front of me. After a minute or two, his eyes stare lifelessly past my face and at the sky. I knew he was dead.
As I hold his dead body in my arms, I sit there for hours until his body is cold and the blood has dried. I wipe away the tears that soaked my face. I force myself back into the right mindset. I can’t carry his whole body and I can’t bring the gang here; I conclude that I would just have to cut of his dead. It’s and win win, right? I grab my knife; it should be sharp enough to cut through the bone. I hold my breath as I start to saw, side to side, slowly cutting through his limp neck. I hear a slosh as red blood squirts out the cuts in his cold neck. I start sawing on the other side. There is blood all over me, I remember to take another breath as I continue cutting. I finally reach the spine; it takes me a good 20 minutes to pull the head off the body. I sit there, staring at the headless corpse in front of me. I did this, I think. I don’t let it get to me, I grab my backpack and reject the thought. I pick up the head, shutting the eyes before carefully placing it in my bag. The bag doesn’t zip up completely, it stops at the forehead, I leave it and start my journey home.
Mary. She was the first person to see me, I tried to avoid this. I took the back roads so nobody would see me but there were still some people around. She flashed her light towards me witnessing my bloody clothes and the head that sits in my bag. She stumbles backwards, away from me. I step forward and she drops her torch and shakily picks up her phone. Before she dials the number, I leap forwards and slash her throat, I think of the previous boy’s body as I watch her choke on her blood. I should cut her head off as well; I silently tell myself. I once again start to saw; it doesn’t take as long time as the boy. In about 30 minutes. I have tugged the head off. I don’t bother bringing it with me, I toss it at the now headless body on the ground. I smile as I smell the scent of fresh blood that covers me and continue to walk on.
Gregory. He was the second person to see me, my third kill. A few houses later a man walks past me, going to take a pee. He looked at me with a face full of anxiousness, at least he is smart. I chuckle. I lye my backpack on the ground and follow him through the bush. I wait until he finishes peeing and I come up behind him. I go for the slice but he turns and pushes me away. I trip but get back to my feet quickly. I am surprised. Both my other victims were so easy. I fight back, he punches and I duck. He punches again, this time his fist hits me square in the face. This made me angry, I lunge forward, plunging the knife into his chest. He weases, and his knees buckle. I sit on top of him and stab continuedly, again and again, blood splatters everywhere.
After a few minutes, my anger is out and the man is well and truly dead. I decide that I must make it look the same as the others. I avoid touching his clothes, I carefully cut a line into his throat, I then get to work, cutting through his neck and eventually removing his neck. Once I am satisfied with my work I go back to the path, pick up my bag and continue on with my journey. As I am walking along, I think to myself, ‘the slit throat and the decapitated head could be my symbol,’ I smile. I have a symbol, I stare off into the sky, I wonder what they will call me.