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If All The Dead Men Told Tales

by J.W. Bost 2 months ago in psychological
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By J.W.Bost

Hey Mom,

I wondered what they would tell you. If they ever found out. If they discovered my secrets. I guess it wouldn’t matter if you read this letter first. Living a life of wickedness, I guess that’s all I really have done, I only wanted to make you proud but I guess that never quite worked out how I wanted. All in all, there were 7 total, I am proud to say. Although I think they’ll only get me for 4. Probably life, maybe worse depending on how everything else goes. I thought I did a good job of cleaning up but I guess the jury will be the judge of that. So, in case they try to tell you something different, here are my stories and my confession.

Number One was an accident. I guess that’s what you could call it. It was more of a heat of the moment kind of thing. Do you remember way back when I hung out with that guy Tyler? Tyler was in my class, 12th Grade Gym with Mr. Moore. He was pretty popular, but the drugs got the better of him. I heard him talking to his friends in the locker room about how he raped Tina Warner. That’s why she never showed up to school again, her parents took her out of the school. I knew Tina, she was a nice girl. Sometimes I think about what happened to her. Poor girl would have never got justice. Nothing ever happened to him because “He’s such a good athlete, how can we ruin his scholarship!?” He threw a party that summer and I decided to go, even if I hated the guy.. atleast some of my friends were there. I remember going upstairs to use the bathroom and I heard sobbing coming through the other side of the wall. I put my ear up to the wall and I could hear someone. I walk into the bedroom and I find him raping a drugged-out girl. Piece of shit. I took one of the needles there and I stabbed him right in the back with it. He had time to turn around and punch me right in the face, damn near broke my nose, but that heroin did him in, he fell over and all I did was put him in bed and let the overdose kill him. I put a towel over the poor girl there, I hope she didn’t remember anything and got herself cleaned up. I watched the news in the morning, “Star Athlete Found Dead of Overdose!” He gets to live on as a hero, I guess. Can’t do much else about that. That's more than he deserves.

Number Two was not an accident. After the dust settled and graduation happened, I went into the military. It didn’t happen until I was at my permanent station and I met this asshole by the name of Johns. Johns was a criminal, just the same as Tyler was, same kind too. Take advantage of poor women who drank to much. I think most people have had the experience where they get blasted and lay on the floor and the world spins around. Lance Corporal Johns was just waiting for that opportunity though, like a tiger in the grass. I couldn’t catch him in the act like I did Tyler, but I knew it was happening. A whole lot of coverup for an innocent man. Barracks Duty was usually about once a month, so I had to wait. I was patient though and I tracked his every move. On April 20th, 2020 he was on duty and I waited for him to walk along the third deck balcony, where I snuck up behind him and tossed him over. Broke his skull and neck. Dead, they ruled it as suicide.

Number Three was different. When I got out of the military, I longed for that feeling again, that feeling of ridding the world of degenerates. I had to work at Ace Hardware for a little bit to pay the bills, but it wasn’t fulfilling. So, I started hunting. This time was different, I had to look for this one. It was like fishing. I had to make my bait and cast it out there. I pretended to be a 14-year-old girl and I hung out in some chat groups. Man, they bit, it took me a bit of patience but I got one to decide to come over. I gave him the address of a nice quiet place to meet up. He walks in the door, I guess I caught a good one who was nice and ready because he wasn’t even wearing a shirt. Couldn’t sneak up on him so I had to be fast, broke his hand when he tried to catch my hammer swing. He dropped to the ground, only took me a few more hits. That one was a little rougher, I had to buy some cement mix and bury him in the basement. I had to dig up a hole to bury him.

Number Four was the worst. I had to find him. Police were working on the missing person’s case. Kids. I tracked them out to a house out in the middle of nowhere. Junk everywhere in the yard. When I got there, I guess he was out getting some groceries. I walked in the house and it smelled like death. Cans of beer and food everywhere. The bugs were crawling all over the house. I went down to the basement and discovered he had set up a room for his guests. Prisoners. Two kids, both of them dirty and emaciated. I had to wait for him to come home, and it hurt to look at those kids for that long. He came home and when he walked down the basement stairs, I grabbed him. Choked him until he passed out and then I buried him alive behind the walls in the basement. I dropped off the kids anonymously at a hospital. I didn’t go back to the junkyard home. I like to imagine he died screaming behind that wall, a premature burial.

Number Five was bad. I almost got caught. I got sloppy. Found some Klan members, some good ol boys. People forget they are still around. I had to follow them back to their trailer park, nice good old stereotypical place for a Klan rally. I planted some explosives underneath the trailer, waiting for the gathering of the ghosts. Fucking thing didn’t go off though. I had to sneak over and get it to go off, almost blew myself up in the process. Killed a few of them, but one of em started shooting at me. Should’ve known, fucking rednecks. Hit me right on the side. Body cavity, I’m lucky. I was able to drive away, but it could’ve been much worse. Took me out of the game for a few months.

Number Six still haunts me. I had to lay low after five but Six strolled right into my lap. The opportunity was just too good, I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. This one was skilled though. He knew what he was doing, and he did it for much longer than I did. I tried to lure him out, but it didn’t take long till he caught my scent. He knew I was there watching him. His demeanor though, it startled me. He acted as if he was a master of his craft and I was little more than a nuisance. He ignored my attempts at baiting. One night after work I came home, as I opened the door I found that sitting in the middle of my apartment floor was a chess piece. The Pawn. He knew who I was, and this was a warning. I began to become fearful, perhaps I have bitten off more than I can chew. So I invited him out for coffee. I left a note for him. We met at a coffee shop. I sat at the table and he sat across from me. He didn’t say anything until the coffee arrived. A nice waitress, he eyed her like a hungry dog. He took the sugar and poured some in, as well as a little milk. Our eyes met and as the coffee mug left his lips he spoke to me “I warned you and now the cat has come to feed. You could’ve just left it alone.” He finished his coffee hurriedly. “I’m sure I will see you again soon.” He threatened me once again. I waited in my apartment for him to come that night, but he never did. I suppose the poison worked then. I never heard from him again. I guess you’re wondering then, when did I poison his coffee? The answer is, I didn’t poison his coffee, he poisoned his own coffee. Dried Belladona and Destroying Angel Mushrooms crushed into a fine powder and put in with the sugar. Nice and mixed up. Mass organ failure within the day. How did I know he was going to use Sugar with his coffee? Short answer, I didn’t, I'm not a wizard, nor am I a soothsayer. It was a guess, a hopeful guess. A guess that I just so happened to luck out on. He truly was better than me, a much more skilled assassin, but all it took was one slip up and a stroke of luck.

So, I guess you must ask then, who is the 7th? Is he another predator? I guess in a way, yes, he is. He is a hunter of men. I would like to say that I believed I was doing the right thing and bringing justice to these horrid creatures. The truth is, that I enjoyed it. It was my art, my work, I loved my work. Even if these men were monsters, I had to become one too, I had to find and dispose of them. I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but perhaps it is better. I hope you can forget once you close the letter, if it gives you solace, I have a quiet life now, a different name and a different place, but, as far as they will ever know, I died at sea or perhaps, I never really existed at all. Perhaps it is better that way. Maybe the next go around it will all be different, take care mom.

Truthfully Yours,

The 7th

psychological

About the author

J.W. Bost

I have a passion for writing, especially anything closely akin to the horror genre.

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