Killer King 7

This is the last of Killer King. I hoping to start the next one next month, but I started a new job and adult responsibilities has me a little overwhelmed so we'll see.

           -Rose B 

Killer King

    The room is silent as his voice fades. The attorney takes a quick look around then turns back to the man, "Why did you continue to stay with her, even after those experiences?"

    The man pulls out another tissue and dabs at his eyes, "I fell in love with the fire in her eyes and her cunning. After seeing her I couldn't imagine myself going back to that bar, back to that life. I didn't care what we were doing as long as I was with her."

    The attorney nods and turns to the Jury, "Ladies and gentle man of the jury. Jonathan Morris is not a crazed murderer. He was hard working even after he was with Lisa Jackson. He did his best to be with and please the woman he loved. he even tried to help the victims in the best way he could think of." He gestures to the man whose eyes are red, "As we all know Lisa Jackson, the main perpetrator, confessed to her crimes and lost her head for it. With his main reason to continue living the life of a murderer gone, there is no reason he should continue killing. He has already lost the woman he loves, is there any need to punish him more?"

    The man stands up, "To many of you I have lived long enough but if I had one more day I would be a better man. I can't promise to be the best citizen but I would be a better man than I've ever been."

***

    The man walks out of the courthouse in a maroon suit. he buttons his cuffs and adjusts his hat. Everyone on the street goes about their business, his trial forgotten in the months it took to get paperwork completed. A toothy grin splits his face. Not a single soul cared about his release but that would be their mistake. The worst predator is one people don't see coming.

    "Indeed," The man whispers, "And no predator is more harmful than one that has nothing to lose."

    We'll make the streets run red.

    "And the ones who betrayed us will know we are coming."

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Killer King 6

Don't ask me why I was late last month I don't know. But I'm on time this month.

-Rose B.

Killer King

    "And you participated in the killings after that?"

    The man shook his head, "I stayed close to her after that. I didn't want someone else escaping when I wasn't there. There were a couple of times I would give a killing blow just to put someone out of their misery."

    "And she allowed this?"

    He nodded, "The first time she cut herself part way through the killing cut so I finished the cut to prevent suffering. The second time she was so angry that her hands were shaking, I offered to make the throat cut and she let me. I did what I could so no one had to suffer needlessly."

    I only picked two other targets after the Englishman. All the others were her picks or ones we had decided on together. Sometimes she wanted me to kill them, other times we each had our own knives. I never left her side even when she knew we were about to be caught, I refused to run a leave her with the blame. Instead I helped her plan how we would be caught. That last week was the most fun we'd ever had. We did what we wanted, killed who we wanted. When the police showed up with the handcuffs we freely submitted, smiling the whole time.

 

 

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Killer King 5

 Killer King

    In the beginning, I only helped with the set up and take down of the the kill room. I would stay in the area through the kill so that she could call me in an emergency. I didn't participate in the chase or kill until the Englishman.

    He was on a train loudly chewing out the assistant who was unable to get him first class tickets over the phone. He was obviously thought he was better than us and I hated him. As he continued to make remarks to the assistant on the phone I imagined him being in one of the kill rooms; unlucky for him, he was just the type of man she killed. I seized my chance when he hung up. I smoothed down my dress shirt and approached him.

    He was wary at first, but after telling him I was a reporter for an art magazine wanting to do an article on him, he was very willing to talk. I told him my sister was a follower of his and I became an art reporter so I could one day tell her I met him. He was flattered, declaring my sister had good taste. It wasn't until I pulled up a picture of Lisa that he really became interested. He gave me two invites to a party he was hosting that night and told me he would love to have a conversation with my sister. I thanked him profusely and got off at the next stop.

    We arrived fashionably late and looked stunning. We didn't go straight for the target, we mingled with the other guests and scoped out the room. We were only there for about an hour before he made his way over to us. I introduced them and she played her part spectacularly. She gushed over him and his art. He soaked up the praise, never considering it was fake. We didn't do anything to him that night, just laid the groundwork.

    A week later we were invited to tea at his house. I formally "interviewed" him. He only had eyes for Lisa and didn't notice that not all of my questions were normal. We learned his daily schedule and the people he was likely to have nearby. Throughout the following weeks he gradually saw more of Lisa and less of me. He would take her out to dinner, art galleries, she even modeled for him on one occasion. Lisa wasn't the only one he was seeing but she was only in it for the information.

    During the day we acted out our roles, at night we picked the perfect spot for the kill room. After visiting the Englishman she would come back and we would change the kill room as she felt necessary. Once we were ready we set the plan in motion. He never suspected a thing, right up to the moment we took him from his home. The look of betrayal as we chloroformed him, will stay with me forever.

    I was nervous that he would wake up too soon but she had done this so many times, she didn't worry at all. She was right, he stayed unconscious until we were ready. As soon as he woke up he tried to talk. She just laughed at him and tapped his mouth.

    I was prepared for her to start her normal routine so when she handed me the knife, I looked at her shocked. She simply smiled and said, "He was your choice so you get to do the honors." For a moment I felt my heart pounding but as I approached the table my mind calmed. I started to press the knife to the pulse in his neck but as my eye wandered the knife glided down his neck until it rested above his heart. I pressed my hand to his chest, feeling the strong heart that was beating quickly underneath. I don't know how long I stood there until she touched my arm. I looked up to see her standing next to his head smiling softly.

    I smiled back then turned back to his chest. I slowly pushed the knife in between his ribs and I heard her sigh over his muffled screams. As his heart stopped beating adrenaline flooded my system. I looked up at Lisa to see her looking at me with that dark fire in her eyes. From then on I played a part in every step. I became whatever role was necessary, a driver, a jealous ex, an absentee husband.

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Killer King 4

This one is going to be short because the next one is long

   -Rose B.

Killer King

    His statement charges the room with energy. The prosecution scrambles through their case notes, looking like dogs searching for a lost bones. A smile ghosts across the man's face. The judge bangs his gavel and once the room is quiet he asks, "Are you telling us you were a participant in the wharf murder, and you waited until now to tell us?"

    "No. I was just a spectator. I didn't do anything more than some heavy lifting."

    The judge looks him over and seems to decide he is being honest enough, "Very well continue."

    The attorney nods and faces the man, "Tell us about the murders you helped in."

    "I didn't do much. Mostly lifted what she couldn't, help her set up and take down."

    "What about the Englishman? As they have shown the jury, the prosecution is certain you killed him."

    The man nodded, "I did kill him but that is because he got loose and overpowered Lisa. he was going to kill her. I grabbed the closest thing to me and tried to fend him off. He wouldn't back down and I ended up stabbing him."

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Killer King 3

 Killer King

    "That's how things started between you two?"

    The man nods, "I couldn't just leave her to her own devices what if she got caught or something went wrong."

    "Then how did you end up being her accomplice?"

    "I told her I would help her, if she promised to be as cautious as possible. I don't know if she wanted to test how truthful I was being but that night we drove to an abandoned warehouse near the wharf. After that I helped her anyway I could."

 

 

    She didn't once look at me as she spoke, and she continued to look out at the city as she let me digest her words. Without thinking I asked if she needed help, and she turned to me the spark of fire still in her eyes.

    She smiled knowing what I was talking about but she still asked, "What could I need help with?"

    I told her to take my words however she liked. I would help her with whatever she needed. I didn't care where those words might lead me, I didn't want to be away from her. I wanted her to look at me with those fiery eyes, and say my name in that sinful tone.

    She smiled again and the next night she took me across town to an abandoned warehouse near the wharf. Inside she had already set up a kill room and a man was strapped to a table. His eyes went wide as he saw us and his voice came out in a muffled whimper behind the tape. She picked up a knife and shushed him as she softly ran the blade across his chest. She pressed into the soft tissue of his stomach. Blood slowly eld up from the wound and her eyes glittered.

    The man sobbed a little and she pulled her attention away from the crimson stream. "There have been men before you who begged and pleaded but it won't do you any good. They all broke down into tears eventually and it didn't change anything."

    He looked terrified and she smiled sweetly for a moment before sliding the knife across his neck. Blood flew from the knife onto me and sprayed on to her. She placed a hand on his chest and looked deep into his eyes. He gurgled as the light in his eyes started to dim. He gave his last exhale and she breathed in deep. She closed her eyes and leaned back as if that last breath was something to savor. Her shoulders relaxed as she opened her eyes again and looked at me. Her gaze was charged and wild, her smile full of danger and sin.

    I walked over to her and said, "Lisa, my Mona Lisa, you're going to turn this world upside down."

    I kissed her with the iron tang of blood on our lips. From that night on I helped her anyway I could.

 

 

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Killer King 2

 Killer King

    He covers his eyes with his hands. His attorney passes him box of tissues and waits until he is done dabbing his eyes before continuing, "Is that when you figured out her night time activities?"

    He shakes his head, "No I lost her, but I went home to wait for her. When she came back she was drunk. Before I could ask her anything, she collapsed on the couch and almost immediately fell asleep. I got her a blanket and waited for her to wake up. When she did I handed her a cup of coffee and asked her why she was leaving the house in the middle of the night. I was afraid that she was going to say she had found someone else. What she actually had to say was much worse. She explained how she killed people and that she had tried to stop when she met me bout she couldn't."

    That day, she came in already drunk. She was smiling but she didn't seem happy. The bartender wouldn't give her anything more to drink and I offered to take her home. She was silent all the way back but that changed once we reached her house.

    She sank onto the couch and surrounded by empty bottles of gin she said, "You once asked me what I do during the day."

    I froze at her words. I hardly even breathed as if any small movement would stop her from talking.

    She looked out that big window on to the glimmering city, "I kill people."

    That revelation was the beginning. I wasn't upset by her words, in fact, I wanted to know more. How has she come to be this way? Why did she do it? Who were her victims, and how did she pick them? Was this why she was so different from everyone else? Is this what made her full of light and color?

    When I didn't run screaming from the room she looked at me, it was like she knew all of the questions that were burning my mouth but I was too afraid to speak, "It started as revenge for my friend. I preyed on the men who preyed on her. I would get close to them, let them shower me with gifts. Once they were comfortable I slaughtered them like the pigs they were." A dark light entered her eyes and a smile I'd never seen graced her lips, "I wasn't long until I gained a taste for the kill. By the time the last one fell, I developed an itch that could only be scratched by death. I can't live without the feeling of the warm blood on my skin or the moment when they stop breathing."

    There was a fire in her eyes that matched the lust in her voice. I had never seen her this passionate but I wanted more of it. She was fascinating. She knew what was happening to her and continued down her path anyway.

 

 

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Killer King 1

Alright, lets get the warning out of the way. This one is more mature it's a twisted love story and there is depictions of murder and blood.

On to the explanation: This will be formatted a little interesting because the original jumps between the trial and memories. Also this concept came from a song playlist so if you notice similarities to certain songs you are probably correct.

          -Rose B.

Killer King

 

Trial of Jonathan Morris, charged with three accounts of first degree murder and four accounts of accessory after the fact.

    He takes a seat at the witness stand, and smooths his navy blue jacket. The whole courtroom watches him. The cameras that were flashing at the back of the room are still as he looks at his attorney.

    "Mr. Morris can you explain the relationship between you and Ms. Jackson."

    He gives a faint smile, "You make it sound like the relationship was simple."

    "Just explain as best you can."

    He takes a deep breath, "We started off just like any other couple. I met her at a bar, got to know her and we started dating. For a while things were normal, but then she started leaving in the middle of the night. After a couple night of waking up without her there, I followed her. I don't know how long the sneaking out had been going on until I noticed, but there was no hesitation in her movements as she grabbed her shoes and purse before slipping out the back door."

    The bar was a dump, but it was on my way home from work. All I needed was a drink, I didn't care about where it came from. Being a reporter following the police around on every case got to a person after a while and the only cure I found was drink. I knew when she walked in that she had a story. She only gave the bar a cursory glance before she sat down and ordered a gin. Despite the horrible lighting, I felt drawn to her. She hadn't said a word but I caught hints of color in a world I thought was mono-toned gray.

    I tried to interact with her, but she ignored me. She wasn't there to pick anyone up and only wanted a drink. When she came again, i gave it another shot. For the first time since I was a teenager I borrowed the persistence I used in my reporting, and didn't give up. It took several encounters in that bar before I finally got her to smile. Once she smiled, she slowly opened up. She never said what she did or where she lived, but I didn't care i just wanted my life to feel a little less Noir.

    When we went to her apartment for the first time, I couldn't imagine leaving her for the dreary tones of my precious life. She brought to much color and music to my life and I was addicted. Her apartment was only slightly cleaner than mine but it was bigger with sparse amounts of furniture. the grandest sight of the apartment was the back wall of her living room. It was all glass and looked out onto the city. At night, lights from the city glittered like stars. That first night I stared at the fake stars until she pulled me into the bedroom.

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Foreteller

Extra post for my birthday month. It's longer than my usual posts but I didn't want to do more than one extra post this month.

             -Rose B.

Foreteller

    The first one is never easy, but there is always one that never leaves you. At the time it may seem no different than any other, but no matter how many songs you'll sing the memory of it will never fade. It will come to you in the most mundane moments, keep you up at night, and make you wonder if you are going insane. Even as I lay here barely breathing on my own, I still see it as if it happened only moments ago...

    The first time I saw him is the image that haunts me the most. Summer was beginning it counterattack against winter. Patches of grass triumphed over the snow's reign. The sky shifted between gray clouds and the blue sky. He was at a table with friends surrounded by the sun's warmth, and when he laughed the sunlight was almost blinding. I was so startled by his smile I almost dropped my books into the dirty melting snow. The skin on his arm was already gray. Every time he moved the Ash fell from him and vanished before reaching the ground. I gave a moment to mourn before continuing on my way.

    Honestly, in that first interaction, he was like any other stranger. I didn't have a sense of foreboding about singing for him. I only spoke a handful of words to him and I don't even remember his name. I know child, it's odd that he is the one that sticks with me. I've spent many hours trying to figure out why but I've never reached an answer.

I didn't see him again until winter was in its final struggle. Small pockets of snow only existed in the coldest of shadows where the heat of the clear sky couldn't reach. I bumped into him as he was coming out of a building. the Ash had reached his neck, almost his whole arm looked like peeling paint. I jumped into the shade, trying not to show anything on my face.

    He smiled, "Sorry, I didn't see you there."

    "It's alright," I murmured, my voice little more than a whisper. He didn't reply and maybe he didn't hear me. On my hand, Ash sunk into my skin looking for the similar darkness in me. My eyes followed his carefree back until he turned a corner and I knew I couldn't avoid this any longer.

    I saw him more frequently after that, the Ash slowly increasing and smoke pouring from the cracks. I wondered if some part of him knew what was coming. Was his skin rough where the Ash had claimed him? Did his joints creak, bones ache, and muscles spasm? Could he feel pieces of him falling away like old memories? I imagined his smile looking forced as summer progressed but none of his friends seemed to worry or even notice.

    Songs are never abrupt, spur of the moment things. The urge always occurs before. You might be able to ignore it for a time but it won't go away. It will only crescendo as the song does. It will feel like it's tearing your throat apart but if you sing to early you won't be able to stop until it's over...

    The urge started in the height of summer's rule when the sun beat down, and everything struggled under the heat. Most of his body was covered in Ash but his smile was just as bright. I told myself it wasn't time yet and swallowed the song. The urge grew into a need and I withdrew from conversations, afraid that if I opened my mouth the song would spill out in place of my words. In these moments my throat is so dry it feels like it's sticking together. I hear the melody in my sleep and catch myself humming the haunting tune.

    You won't miss the timing to sing, the song won't let you. The song resides in us but it does not belong to us. You will never forget it, but even if you try to sing it any other time you won't be able to. We are just the messengers and when it is time the song will flow like spring water.

    It was a day of dark skies, threatening rain when it arrived. I watched from the roof as he chatted with friends. His stride unhindered, unburdened, even though he was covered in smoke and I wondered how he hadn't fallen apart from the Ash alone. Thunder rolled through the air obscuring the sound of the truck. In the next breath, the song burst from my lungs as he was dragged under. The notes started soft but grew with the screams. Rain cooled the air as it waltzed to the shifting melody. Unnoticed by the commotion below, the slow refrain filled up the empty places. Carried on by the sirens it pierced the hearts of all those who heard it. Skin prickled and hair stood on end as the chill settled in their bones.