Didn't I just Kill You?
Prompt: You are a serial killer. Lately, you can't help but notice that you've been killing the same person over and over again. Unbeknownst to you, this person is actually an immortal who's constantly been checking to see if they can die yet by purposefully becoming your target.
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I don't really care about my victims except to make sure that they fall into whatever criteria I am into at the time which is why I believe it takes me so long to notice.
My preferred victims are blue-eyed males. I have traveled all around killing and I revel in it. Maybe it's because I only pay attention to the eyes that I didn't notice but then I get the weird feeling that all the guys I have killed recently have the same shade of blue eyes. Weird.
I start paying attention to their faces as well. Three or four victims later I have a weird feeling of deja-vu every time I kill them.
My next victim, this time a doctor, looks nervous when I ask him if he has a brother that works in Walmart or had blue-eyes. He is sweating as he says no and I get a little suspicious.
I kill the guy anyway and start looking for my next victim.
That's when things get freaky. And if a psychotic serial killer is telling you it gets freaky; you can guess the level of freakiness.
My latest victim has a fake beard that comes off while I was skinning him. The strange part is that his hair is dyed and he has contact lenses in his eyes and without them he looks exactly like the doctor I killed and the guy at the Walmart and the guys I killed before.
"Unbelievable," I mutter and sit back in shock.
Maybe the guy's father was an... 'adventurous' man I try to reason. Then another thought comes to mind, why was this guy wearing the disguise. Maybe the doctor didn't die and came to get revenge?
Maybe the clerk didn't die and came to get revenge as the doctor but then that didn't work and came back to get revenge as this guy???
What the hell is going on?
I must have spent a lot of time thinking because the sun was already up when I snapped out of my thoughts. I cursed looking at the brightening streets because I should have disposed of the body by now.
I take my butcher knife and pulls my apron back on so that I can finish the job.
Now, this is the freaky part folks, I look back at the body, because yes, I had checked and he was DEAD earlier, and now it's sitting up and looking back at me. We look at each other for a while and then I screech and jump back. The guy just sits there sheepishly like he didn't look like he went through the meat grinder. I am ashamed to admit this, but I fainted.
When I wake up, I am lying on a soft mattress in someone's bedroom and somebody has lovingly covered me with a nice blanket.
I frown because what the hell!
Then the guy I had killed comes walks out of the bathroom looking exactly like he did before I began cutting into him. There's no wound, no blood, no scar and I know I gouged out one of his eyes but they're intact too.
"Oh, hey..." he says nervously.
I give him a contemplative look and then come to my conclusion, "Schizophrenia."
That must be it. I already had a list of mental issues diagnosed by my doctor before I set fire to his clinic. What's one more to that list?
"What?" the guy looks at me confused.
I ignore him because hey, he's just a hallucination! I get out of the bed and straightens out my dress and get ready to walk out of the room ignoring the guy gawking at me.
"Whose room is this anyway?" I wonder out loud and then think, "Is there a room at all?"
"Um, it's my room... and yes there is a room?" he says pretty confusedly.
I ignore him again. I walk out of the room thinking how I got here. I find out that I am in an apartment building and I take note of the address before I leave. I could hear my hallucination telling me to wait and following me.
People are giving me strange looks and I give them a brilliant fake smile and move on. I find the nearest coffee shop and order an Irish frappe and sit down. That's when my hallucination catches up to me.
"Could we talk?" it says.
I don't bother taking my eyes off the menu and I am surprised when the waitress comes and asks, "Your order sir?"
I frown when I see her looking at my hallucination. That means she can see him. So, no hallucination then.
"Please tell me you have a twin brother," I mumble when the waitress is gone because what else could it be? But even then, twins wouldn't cover it. His mother would have to have been carrying multiples, ranging from ten to twenty because that's how many times I have killed this man.
"No," he sighs, "I know this would sound crazy but I am immortal."
"Uh-huh," I agree easily because, yay I just found a fellow lunatic. How entertaining... NOT.
"I am telling the truth," he argues passionately and takes out a knife.
"You're not supposed to be carrying weapons like that," I say.
"I found this in your shoe," he deadpans.
"Rude!" I hiss now recognizing the gleam of my sharp, sharp little knife.
He rolls his eyes and drags the knife across his wrist. The blood wells and spills over and I can feel that familiar excitement rising in my chest. To my astonishment the cut slowly starts healing, much faster than a human should. I think in one hour or so there wouldn't be a scratch left on him.
"See," he states smugly, "I am immortal!"
I raise my eyes from the healing wound to his face, "Superfast healing doesn't mean you're immortal..."
He shakes his head, "Nope. I am immortal, you should know."
I furrow my brows thinking, "Okay, so how many times have I killed you? Or tried to kill you actually?"
"Uh... fifty-two times..."
I stare at him blankly, "Fifty-two times... That's... how many people I have killed."
He gives a sheepish smile, "Actually you haven't killed anybody yet since it was me the whole time. I really didn't think it would take you so long to notice..."
"So, you're saying," I say in a faux-calm tone, "I am not a serial killer... I am not even a murderer?"
He nods smiling, "Aren't you glad?"
I scream.
At that moment I didn't care about the people watching, I had planned and planned and slaved over each victim only for this to happen! I hadn't even killed a single person yet. No wonder the cops weren't around, the lack of news and panicked masses also made sense. I had started believing that I was too good at hiding bodies or maybe there was a serial-body-hider or something.
But this... As it turns out there wasn't a body to be found at all. And said 'body' was sitting in front of me in a coffee shop.
"I am going to kill you! You hear that!" I scream, "I am going to slit your throat and cut you into small pieces then feed you to my piranhas."
"That might actually work!" he says brightly, "Immortality isn't all its cracked up to be you know? I just want to finally get some rest. I hope you understand... Hey you have piran-"
I didn't let him finish. I snatched my Irish frappe from the hands of the waitress who just arrived and poured the scalding liquid over his head.
He screamed, the waitress screamed and everybody screamed. I smiled and took my knife before stabbing his throat... A few times.
I knew now he won't die, but this was a great stress relief.
Huh, maybe I won't have to be a serial killer if I have him to keep my blood lust satisfied.
I grin. Mind made, I sit down and order another coffee from the horrified waitress.
He is healed by the time the cops get there and I watch him explain it all away as a prank.
Later we shook hands and it was the start of a beautiful friendship. It's been five years and I am still trying to kill him. Needless to say, he's still alive and life's great.
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Written for this prompt
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