Price 1

I'm going to go ahead and tell you who the killer is, his name is Craig Price. In 1976 running around the streets of Rhode Island at the age of 3 Craig was struck by a vehicle. Four years later, at age 7, he is hit in the head by rock, and the very next year breaks his collarbone. Growing up African American in the 70's, Mr. Price was no stranger to adversity, but you'd never know it. As time passed Craig grew at an alarming rate, by the age of thirteen he weighed just over two-hundred and fifty pounds! Of course! Of course, he played football, you can't be that big and black and not play football, and he loved it, and people loved him. Always had a smile on his child-like face, although it sat atop a mountain of a mans body. People often came to Craig when they needed a laugh or whenever they were having an issue with their bike. Craig loved his bike, he'd ride it everywhere, to school, the store, or just for no reason at all. He knew everything there was to know about all kinds of bikes and he was always willing to share his knowledge with others. Craig was also never one to back down from a challenge, so when one of his friends showed up with a new bike (claiming to be faster than Craig's) asking if anyone wanted to race, OF COURSE, Craig obliged. They get up to the starting line when Craig notices a car pull up behind them. The countdown begins "ON YOUR MARK!....." a boy shouts! "YOU'RE GONNA LOOOOOOOSE N***!" erupts from the vehicle. "GET SET!!" Craig clinches his new re-gripped handlebars, kicks up some dirt with his personally customized sneakers, bends his knees slightly and prepares for what he calls his "signature take-off." "GO!" Bystanders are engulfed in plumes of dirt and rocks. The fog dissipates and we see that the vehicle has now joined the race. With ease they catch up to Craig and begin to disrupt his ascension to a clear victory. Craig uses every muscle in his larger than life legs just to keep his back tire off of their front bumper. As they hurl garbage and racial slurs they pull up beside just to make sure one of them lands a fat spitball right on Craig's mouth! The sky, the ground, the sky again, the ground again, Craig took a tumble. That spitball did not just land on Craig's lip, but it landed Craig in the losers circle. He couldn't get over it, He just couldn't let it go, He keeps replaying the sound of the engine in his head. Their slurs still echoing in his head like some sort insane kindling that would ignite a racist rage that would burn within Craig for the rest of his life. In his room that night He is still trying to shake the frustration, but he just can't. He smoked as much weed ass humanly possible but it still wasn't enough, He still needed to release this fury. "Murder. That's what I'll do. I'll kill those racist mother fuckers." Craig thinks as he feels a wave of calm rush over him as if like a cool breeze in the summer heat. He smiles. Then snaps back to reality, smokes a little more, but then here comes that rage again. This time it's different, this time, it's demanding! This time it wants blood. Returning to the thoughts of murder soothed Craig so much that he decided to take his bike out and see if he can find that car from earlier. I mean Craig had no intention of actually going and murdering these guys, he just wanted to look at their faces and imagine putting their tongues through the spokes in his bike. There it is! Parked in front of a house with no lights on. "They must be asleep" Craig thought. He silently creeps around to the back of the house where he sees through the window a woman sleeping on the floor. His heart races, he breathes in deeply, wipes the sweat from his brow, breathes out and makes his way into the house through the back door. Bewildered, and now standing in the kitchen, Craig takes a moment to marinate in the pleasure that is pulsating through his entire body. "I'm really going to kill someone!" Craig grabs a knife from the block on the countertop. He takes a few practice stabs, smiles a bit, and makes his way into the living room. He sees a young, attractive, white woman lying on the floor in front of a television set showing static. The light from the television illuminates her body in a way that Craig felt it would be the template for the masterpiece of revenge he was about to create. Craig, now down on one knee, waves one hand over her hips and the back up around her face and then down to her neck. The other hand holds the knife at the end of his fully extended, yet surprisingly still arm. Craig cannot wait to plunge the blade into her, he wraps both hands around the handle of the blade, up and then down, it's in! One stab complete! Two, three, seven, fifteen, thirty, forty, fifty..... ( ok you get it ) Craig is in a state of euphoria that can only be explained as pure bliss, well, as much bliss that you can have being thirteen and a killer. Blood now soaking his entire body he stands to look at what he had done. Headlights flash across the back wall as car pulls into the driveway. Craig wasn't to keen on the idea of becoming a serial killer on his first night as a killer so he dashes out the back door. Craig hides in the bushes and waits until the people go inside then races home. In his backyard, Craig removes all of his clothes and puts them in the dumpster. He uses the garden hose to rinse of the remaining blood, which proved to be difficult as most of it adhered to his skin during his bike ride home. Realizing the hose is pointless Craig goes inside, butt naked, hides the murder weapon in his closet, takes a shower, and goes to bed. The next morning Craig is awakened by the sound of his screaming his name. "Yes?" replies Craig. "Come down here this instant!" With every ounce of his being Craig had to act like nothing had happened as he approached his obviously upset father. "Didn't I tell you to take the trash cans to the curb last night!? Today is trash day." Craig, no relieved, pretends to be bothered by the menial task, but on the inside he's rejoicing. As Craig puts the lid on the trash can he notices a police car approaching. Craig frozen in shock is locked in a staring contest that he did not sign up for! The officer slows down, he stops, rolls his window down, takes off his glasses, and says "Tell you momma to be careful around here, some giant manic hacked up a woman pretty good down the street. I don't think you gotta worry though, this guy kills whites it seems" Craig leans in, now intrigued "What else can you tell me about the MAN, the ADULT MAN, that did this?" The officer replies "Biiiiiiiggg mother fucker. Strong too, and he really must have hated her. I mean, the stab wounds alone were enough, but all the broken bones... Insane! Well, anyways, like I said, he killed a white woman so your mom being black just might be a good thing for once." Craig forces out a fake smile and turns back towards his house, when a familiar feeling arises....................