"Of Freeing The Lost"

“OF FREEING THE LOST”

By CHRIS M RICHARDS

I believe I received my calling when I was around the age of ten. I witnessed a kitten being run over by a car. I immediately ran to save it. It was barely alive and in agony. It looked at me with devastation, desperation and had a hope in its eyes that I would help it. This I found difficult to accept so I simply pulled my first pocketknife I had received the previous year as a present for my birthday and cut the kitten’s throat. It began to gush blood out onto the road. The sight to me was beautiful, a bit gross but all glorious as the kitten died. I had freed it of its pain. I did the right thing. Do not tell me you would not have done the same.

My name is Aaron, and I am 47. I want to tell you the story of the day I meet one of my own. A person that thought like me.

In the light rain I stood, hidden in the shadows of the alley that opened out onto the main street. From this position I watched the people quickly passing by going home after a long day at work, most hidden beneath umbrellas. Nobody knew I was watching them from the darkness. None of them realised I was out hunting or if you see things my way, searching for the next person I needed to free from the way of being lost, destroyed, and broken. Those I could help like the kitten. I was hunting for my next kill.

At any point I could have chosen any one of the people that were walking past the entrance to the alley. But this is not my style, I do not kill indiscriminately. I only kill the lost and terminally miserable, the sad. I still do not understand why this classifies me as evil. I am only showing mercy after all.

Most serial killers collect trophies from their victims, and ears, perhaps a tooth or deliberately leaving clues on the bodies of their victims, I do not. But one day I hope to receive adoration and celebration when my deeds of goodness are revealed. All I ask is I am called an angel of death, not a demon. In some way I should be rewarded for the lost souls that I have set free.

Back to my hiding place under the rain in the alley…

On the opposite side of the street was a covered bus stop, painted in graffiti and its night light flicked due to a loose connection in the wiring. There were three people sitting on the bench covered by the roof of the bus stop.

A bus had just pulled out of the bus stop I had at least a half an hour before the next bus would arrive, giving me ample time to analyse the 3 still sitting in the bus shelter. A young woman, old man and a younger man, just into his 20’s. Were one of these people lost, void of life within hurting and miserable like the kitten I killed when I was 10?

The woman was in her early 30’s. She was busy talking on her mobile phone and I could even work out part of the conversation she was having. How? I was born deaf and spent the first 7 years of my life having operation after operation on my inner ears to restore my hearing. In the meantime, I learnt to lip read so I could communicate with my family and friends. It was the Dr that delivered me from my mother’s womb fault. Using forceps in my birth crushed the structure of my inner ears.

She had been discussing details for her upcoming wedding so how could this woman be lost. She carried an air of importance and direction. A woman with direction has been found by the world, not lost within. She was not the soul I was looking for.

The senior gentleman wore a hat and expertly tailored suit, he was wearing glasses though still had to squint to see anything through them. As reading the newspaper every now and then he would laugh at what he was reading. His smile was content, he too was not one of the lost that I am searching for. As for the scruffy man in his early 20’s, he was completely different. Desperation covered his face. He kept scratching himself and even though the rain was still light I could notice the copious amount of sweet running down his forehead. Sitting he looked uncomfortable, when he stood to relieve this discomfort, he began to pace back and forth in front of the bus stop. Obviously, he was a drug addict entering withdrawal. He had a mobile phone and kept trying to call someone, but they appeared not to be answering. I thought I may have even seen a tear slip from his eye as his pacing became more frantic. My guess he was trying to call his dealer. I could tell he was lost indeed. He now was the soul I had been searching for.

Just as I had made my choice, I lost sight of my target as the next bus pulled into the stop. I must admit for a moment I thought I had lost this kitten to public transport. But this was not so. After the bus pulled out, I was pleasantly surprised to see the young man still standing at the bus stop, still trying to get somebody to answer his calls. I could smell his defeat.

He stopped pacing and tried the phone again. This time the other person answered. I read his lips “I’ll meet you in the park in ten minutes”. After he hung up and went to walk down the hill of the main street, towards the park, he stopped and turned back to stare into the alley way in which I was still hiding. I could not help but think he was staring at me. Had he seen me? Ending the game of cat and mouse between us? I had no idea. So, I remained hidden until he walked away, then carefully I left the alley to chase this soul to the park, in anticipation of helping it find its way to the peace that can only be found in death.

As I followed, I moved from shadow to shadow, I did not want to look suspicious, in fact I tried to stay hidden from all. I did not need witnesses that may identify me as a strange man stalking a younger.

Unfortunately, I did not have my umbrella to hide under and blend in with the others walking in the rain, so I did the next best thing and pulled the hood of my jacket up over my wet face and hair.

I was compelled to continue after this young man. He was walking quite slowly for a junkie about to score so that made it easier for me to follow him, never losing sight of my next nomination for liberation, whose apathy was palpable. My anticipation was growing.

As we continued, slowly down the main street the young soul crossed to the opposite side of the road. I further slowed my pace so I could see what he was doing from the corner of my left eye. I was determined to free him tonight from his mortal coil full of pain. He suddenly disappeared off the street into a 24-hour convenience store. I was not about to cross the road myself and follow him into the shop. I had to look as if I were following no one.

I stopped walking and turned my back to the convenience store and pretended to be window shopping in the bike store adjacent. To further extend my play pretend I was looking at one model in particular on display. The advantage of facing the window was as in the dark it acted as a large mirror from which I could see who was exiting the 24 shop.

He had not been inside for long before he emerged with only a soft pack of Pall Mall cigarettes. He lit one under the eaves of the store, took a drag and stepped back out into the rain, which was becoming heavy, and continued down the main street toward the park. Slowly I turned away from the bike shop and began following my lost drug ruined kitten again.

I have become addicted to death and that action of murder, just as my mark is addicted to heroin, the only difference was I was happy with my addiction, not lost in it as he was lost his. So yes, it thrills me to kill my victims and set them free delivering them into the peace of the afterlife. This is why I do what I do. I know this is not the aim of other serial killers, they have their own priorities and agendas. None of us kill for the same reason.

The rain had now become a heavy down pour, neither me or the junkie made any attempt of staying dry. Both our minds were consumed with our individual tasks at hand.

We remained on the opposite side of the road but were now walking side by side. I had to be incredibly careful to not be caught staring at him, watching. The Park was now in sight, soon this man would enter it, this is where I planned to set him free from his pathetic existence. You can imagine my surprise when he crossed to my side of the road and began directly walking along beside me. Why did he do it? I slowed my pace and allowed him to get in front of me again.

I decided to mix things up and stopped walking after him and stood again in front of another store, this time a florist. I promised myself that tomorrow morning I would return to buy one of the lovely bonsai displays. After about 10 seconds I looked again back down the street. He was still walking towards the park. It felt safe to follow again, so began walking when this young male turned back to stare at me, why? Did he know I was stalking him to grant his soul freedom? I felt like running but instead I did not miss a step and kept walking towards him. For a moment it felt like he now wanted me to follow, that was until he turned up another alley and I lost sight of him. This kitten was only prolonging its own misery. I felt sorry for him, he had blown his chance of freedom from his pain.

A new search/hunt had begun…

The Park would serve as my hunting and killing field now, not the streets.

There were very few people out in the park tonight due to the bad weather. This limited the number of souls for me to analyse, perhaps there were no injured, hurt kittens to find at all. I would have to explore the area to find out.

The Park was not much of a park anymore. It now just consists of an old pot-holed path that runs through its centre, linking the main road I had walked down to another busy street. The open grassy areas on either side of the path were dead, just mud and puddles in the now, teaming rain. The grass had died due to the thick shade it was growing under. The trees of the park had not been maintained and had grown so large their canopies had combined together forming a large cover over the park's grounds. Under the canopy of the trees were many gardens of overgrown shrubs that turned the park into a maze-like structure. One could easily get confused and lose their way in here. It was a gothic wonderland of disuse. The public toilet block had not been in working order for years, it sat to the far right of the path. Next to where I was walking was an abandoned playground. It was no longer used by children; it was now a gathering area for the homeless during the day. Also, the reason for very few people being in the park at night, rain or not, was because people tended to be intimidated by the shadows and what may lurk within them. It indeed was intimidating. After all anything could happen in its shadows, and no one would even know.

I decided to hide behind a thick stand of overgrown bushes and wait to see who might just wander past and whether I considered them lost or not. It did not take long.

I heard her before I saw her, she was screaming abuse at no one in particular. This was confirmed when I saw the ranting teenager. She was abusing God, abusing the existence of others, abusing herself. It was obvious that she was lost, trapped within her insanity. She would be my next liberation from the pain she was eternally in on this coil.

I retreated from the bushes I was hiding in and as quickly as possible, and remaining unseen by the mad teenage girl, I hurried ahead of her to some bushes that almost grew in the way of the path. This is where I would take her. I felt like a spider that had spun a web and was watching, waiting for my prey to become entangled. My excitement was increasing. It would not be long before I had her in my grasp, her life in my hands alone, the life I was to end to.

As I prepared myself to spring from the bushes and drag the girl off the path, I felt an odd sensation, like somebody was watching me. I turned to see who was there. There was nobody. I turned back to the girl; she was nearly in striking distance. My anticipation of her end excited me so much I began to shake and tremble. I even slowed my rapid breathing so she would not hear me. Here kitty, kitty I felt like calling but remained silent and only repeating these words in my head.

Just as I was about to leap out and pull her back into the bushes to simply choke the life out of her, I was disturbed. This time something definitely moved in the shrubs behind me. There definitely was no doubt now in my mind that someone else was here. Did they know what I was and what I could do to them? I retreated back from my hiding place and quickly tried to leave the park from the way I had entered it. That is when a man appeared from the bushes, I was standing face to face with him. It was the young man, the lost junkie, that I had been following before I found this girl. It was obvious I was startled to say the least. What was he doing here?

I know the eyes of other serial killers as obviously I look at myself in the mirror quite frequently. Unfortunately, I could see my own eyes in his. He definitely was a killer too; a master of the art. Was I now the fly and he the spider? Or would we share this kill? He took me by surprise.

He drew a large knife from his worn-out jacket and drove it straight through my breast plate, into my heart. I found it hard to accept that I had been fooled in this way. I believed I was an angel therefore untouchable. I fell to the ground, dying.

I did not find there was any pain as the lost junkie stabbed me at first. It was however agonizing when he placed a foot on my chest and withdrew his blade. Blood rapidly left my body, and it was not glorious, like the kitten’s blood had been. I was terrified.

Before everything went black, I saw him clean the blade of his knife on the sleeve of my jacket and heard him whisper.

“You are not lost anymore”.

THE END.