serial killer thread

[NapalmDTH]

I'm a big fan of horror movies so i thought to myself why not put a post for people like us? in this thread i want to collect ideas for an anonymous serial killer. we can all compose a crime scenery and keep a body count. we will keep him anonymous and have the freedom of choice to make him into what ever we like (Cannibal,rapist,necrophiliac,etc) we can each make our own scenario or continue the last persons scenario and it can be narrated from any point of view even the killer. we will consider my scenario as the first crime and an example of how it will be done. he can have any number of weapons or no weapons at all, and i think we will consider him as being unable to die ( like all our favorite horror movie characters)

body count so far:0
weapons: long sword ( be as imaginative as possible :P)
Location: a two story home

The police received a call saying there was a disturbance at a home next door. a squad car was sent over to check it out. two officers went in to check it out pat and CJ. Pat looked around the first floor while CJ went up to the second. CJ entered a women's bedroom and found a blond lady covered in blood lying on her bed. When CJ went to take closer look the bed suddenly flipped on him. now he was trapped under the women and the bed. he screamed for help. the monster from under the bed stuck his sword through it and killed the officer trapped under. by the time Pat arrived at the room all was quiet. "CJ, are you in here?" he shouted. he saw the turned over bed and went to look under it. he saw his partner. he grabbed his radio. " I need back up i repeat i need backup-"
The killer came behind and took his head clean off.

Body count:3
(be as imaginative as possible people, and have fun with it)

[Nighthawk27]

I guess i'll join for the heck of it.
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body count-0
weapon-a varitey
setting-camp
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It was a long boring night for me, as usual. I got sent off to this damn camp for the summer. Its not exactly the funnest place ever. The place is surrounded by large green trees, and there is a large lake on the far west side. I never liked the outdoors. It was 9:00 p.m. and we were singing songs around the camp fire. Camp leaders were singing kidish songs, as usual. Kids were roasting marshmellows above the raging fire. I wasn't allowed to have things with a lot of sugar. I stared with envy at the marshmellows. "Can I go to sleep?" I asked. "Come on, one more song," My camp leader, Michelle, answered. I groaned and buried my face in my hands. My butt was hurting on the log I was sitting on. I had no friends in this place. Everyone was either a maniac, a smart ass or a sicko. After our last song, we followed Michelle to cabin 7. I was relived to be inside here, because there is a rumor that a man with a white mask lurks around killing people at this camp. I grabbed my green tooth brush out of my duffle bag and squirted some tooth paste on. I brushed for 2 minutes and put my toothbrush away. I hopped into the bunk bed and made myself comfortable. I pulled out a book called, "Kill or be killed," and read. Time passed away, and i didn't know how long I was reading, but I was snapped out of it when I heard a sharp scream from cabin 6, the cabin across from us. I realized I dozed off. I put my book marker inside my book, and crept out of my bed slowly. Everyone was asleep inside our cabin, except me. I pushed the cabin door open quietly, and snuck out into the night. Running barefoot across the muddy floor, I began talking to myself. "Why didn't I put my shoes on? It was probably just a freightened girl anyways," I jogged my way up cabin 6's stairs and pushed the door opened silently. I gasped in fear as I saw a man wearing a white mask stabbing a girl with a sharp knife. Blood splattered on the floor, leaving a bloody mess. The killer must have heard me, because he abruptly turned around and threw his knife at me. He missed by inches, and gave me a small cut on the cheek. I stormed out of the cabin as fast as I could. The killer followed me. I stepped on a rock. My feet were bleeding from all the twigs and rocks on the floor. But I didn't care. It was better then being killed. I burst inside cabin 7, awakening everyone. Michelle turned on the lamp and hopped off her bed. "Oh my god...are you ok?" She asked. She was staring at my bloody feet. "I'm fine...its just there's a guy...with a mask on...coming after us,"I gasped for breath. Michelle stared at me with disbelief, and said, "It was just a dream," She turned around and grabbed the first aid kit. She carefully brushed the blood and dirt off the bottom of my feet. "But it was real! How do you explain my bloody feet?" I shouted. "Thats enough. You were probably sleep walking," She said calmly. She put ointment on my cuts and carefully rapped bandages around my feet. "There, all better. Now go back to sleep," She impatiently said. I stomped to my bed and crawled into the toasty blankets. Maybe it was a dream after all...I sighed and dozed off again...until I heard a pound at the door. Boom. The door came crashing down, and the masked man was in the doorway. This time, Michelle saw it. She sat up in her bed, and turned pale. She screamed, and grabbed the lamp. I watched in fear as she smashed the lamp over the man's head. Bits of light bulb flew across the room. "Guys...get out of here!" She shouted to my cabin mates and I. We dashed out of the cabin and into the harsh cold night. We ran to cabin 6 to warn the campers. We busted the door open, and saw all 5 campers were killed. Their group leader was laying on the floor, lifeless. We ran to cabin 5. Everyone was still fast asleep. We screamed, and they all woke up. We told them the whole story, and they dashed out of their cabins. We ran to cabin 4. They were all dead. We ran to cabin 3. All of them were not dead, but wounded badly. We told them to follow us. We ran to cabin 2. They were all dead. We ran to cabin 1. They were all dead. 15 deaths in one night? This guy was a maniac. We sprinted to the leader's office and woke up the owner of the camp. "There's this crazy maniac inside the camp!" I shouted at the owner. "Maniac?" He asked. "You gotta believe us. 15 people died already because of that guy!" I shouted. The owner stroked his chin, and said, "Evacuate to the camp bus. I'll wake the driver," He said. We all ran outside of the office, and turned silent when we saw the killer in the crossbow arena. The targets were set up, and the crossbows were laying on the floor. The killer picked up a crossbow and an arrow. He grabbed the rest of the arrows and aimed at the camp owner. The arrow shot at the owner, and within a second, the owner had an arrow impaled in his eye. He screamed, as another arrow was shot at his mouth. The arrow went through the back of his throat, and he turned silent. He fell to the floor. All of us scattered and began to scream. An arrow hit a boy in the back of the head. Another arrow hit someone in the ear and went through their whole head. 18 deaths, maybe 19 because Michelle might be dead. I ran through the commotion and out of the camp. An arrow shot towards me. I dodged it, and made a sprint out of the camp. Now I was running down a road. I was surrounded by trees. I was covered with dirt and blood. Suddenly, little rain drops began coming down. I cursed to myself as I ran faster into the rain. The little droplets turned into pouring rain and thunder. I brushed rain out of my eyes. Suddenly, a small truck drove by. The truck stopped and the door opened. "HOP IN!" The man shouted above the rain. I jogged over to the truck and tripped in the mud. I jogged over to the truck and climbed in. The man smiled at me and said, "You look like tampered bull crap," I smiled back and buckled my seat belt. "Whats your name?" I asked. "Reznov," He responded. He had a heavy Russian accent. "Reznov...I like that name." I said.
"Tonight, on 11 o' clock news. A serial killer escapes from jail and goes to a child camp. A fun child place turns to tragedy as the man kills every camper, except one. His name is Stephan Colt. 12 year old Stephan states he was saved by a man named Reznov. The man's full name is Reznov Syach. This is Lisa King, reporting live from Friend Camp," The televison spoke. I watched the television at Reznov's house. Reznov was making hot chocolate. Reznov came out of his kitchen and handed me the cup of hot chocolate. "Thanks," I said. I took a small sip and smiled widely. Reznov smiled back and said, "See ya," I frowned and said, "Excuse me?" Reznov put on a white mask, and said, "Remember me?" My eyebrows shot up. "How did you...but you were at the camp!" I said. "Didn't you see my truck parked in front of the camp?" He asked. I shook my head, and suddenly grasped my throat. I couldn't breathe. "hope you enjoyed your hot chocolate," He said. I silently died on his carpet, and that was the last everyone ever heard of me.
All characters are fiction.

[funnyhomeboy]

Body Count: 1,799
Weapons: Whatever his victim used to kill their victim. (Criminal Killer. Vigilante gone sadistic.)
Setting: Metropolis

I was feeling itchy tonight; it almost seemed like a craving. Having been soulbound to the devil for something as paltry as eternal life, I suppose a 1000 years worth of vigilante business sets a habit. Albeit that, I'm not something so animalistic as one of those thugs who kill for a few bucks. Heh, maybe it's just me trying to suck up to the Big-Man-Upstairs, but tonight will be what, the eighteen hundredth scumbag?

No matter the era, these jerks stay the same.

I took out my shiny jet lighter and a cigarette. My trenchcoat kept me warm in this Winter's night. What's ironic is that the flame itself in junction with the cigarette canceled out what I wanted; relief. I wanted to relax, but visions of the scathing flames kept coming back to memory. I knew for a fact that I was immortal, but the "Ol' Lucy always gets his due." as said by one of my fellow hellbound. Gah, This aggression also keeps coming in waves.

"God, I need to keep my head on straight." I said with a chuckle; partially due to the irony.

I was bound for hell and about to take my 'week's man' but here I was talking to God. Hell, maybe the others are right, maybe I'm not Hell material. Then again, why would I want to be such a thing? Oh yeah, that's right; I'm going there for all eternity. Fun.

Aside from that, let's get down to business. Ol' Lucy said to keep towards the fire to claim another kill. Heh, I do wonder why.

Cigarette still hanging on my lips, I took a last inhale and flicked it to the garbage. The way this feeling kept creeping up on me I probably would have blasted a pedestrians face off (quite literally) were it not for a sharp pain in my back.

Taken by surprise, I fell to the ground as I felt the pains repeat and repeat. It was once I felt my own blood that I was being mugged with a butterfly knife. Another thing I realized was that the taste of blood totally fucked with my head.

"Gimme yo' money asshole!" cried the incorrigible man in a ski-mask. This guy was obviously out for blood, but to his disadvantage so was I.

I felt a remarkable tingle on my back muscles, and a surge of hatred raging like wildfire. It was alongside this that I noticed smoke erupting from my back. Seems like the blood itself had cauterized my wounds and repaired my torn muscle tissue with lightning speed.

This definitely wasn't the first time this had happened, but this other feeling almost made the experience euphoric. The mugger looked shocked for a second, and I wouldn't blame him; take 3 to 4 good stabs in the back and you have yourself a vital-organ cocktail.

"I EXTREMELY SUGGESSSST youuuu TURN BACK BOY" I found myself shouting.

Thankfully we were in a secluded area, and even though this was meant to be grounds for the muggers attack, the tables had now tremendously shifted. I sensed the fear in the man's eyes, and that was enough for me to spring into action.

Extreme amounts of adrenaline kicked into gear and I sprinted towards the already fleeing mugger with great alacrity. Once I had gained enough grounds on the man I proceeded to pounce on him, but at that very second the mugger took his butterfly knife and slashed open my throat. Blood began to fill my lungs as I writhed on the cement sidewalk.

Little did I know that the cigarette I had tossed into the garbage bin had sparked a fire.

Pefect, looks like we have a winner. It was with that that a mist formed around me, blocking me from sight of the assailant. I began to feel tremendous strength course through my veins, and my throat had completely healed. The mist around me began to form a butterfly knife into my palm, and it was with that that the mist completely dissipated.

I saw the man, and with that, my mind grew dark. Shreds of screams and roars pulsated throughout my memory, and began to ebb away. The knife I had held before the mist dissipated was twisted and deformed and in the man's heart, and I couldn't even begin to describe the condition of what was left of the mugger.

God, half the body looked like it was chewed with foot long incisors.

It was then that I touched my mouth. Blood. Mine? I don't think I'll care enough to run a test. Strangely enough I found that my trenchcoat had been slashed to pieces on the street, and that I was half naked.

Thankfully, my cigarettes and lighter were intact. I took a smoke out of the pack and to my dismay, my lighter had a hole in it's bottom. Improvising, I took the cigarette to the blaze in the garbage bin. I took a good puff, and with that I felt...

Relief.

STORY END

Hm....I don't normally tackle morbid or hellish subjects, but there's my piece. The character's not really evil, but he is like an animal, and maybe there could be some redeeming qualities. When writing this, I thought of him as lackadaisical of his future or of the present, but with a mindful conscience of what consequences might be lain in store for him.

[Optimisticperson]

Body Count: 7
Weapon: Hands
Location: Prison

Inmates always ask me "Why use your hands, they leave prints?" I always tell them the same exact thing. "Guns, knives, and anything else is too fast, My hands are nice and slow."
They also say "Why kill rapers?" I usual keep that to myself, Dective. My Mother was raped, 7 months I came out, Failed abortion.

Lunch time, fights are easy to start. Every one is irratated by horrible food. One "accidental" punch starts a riot. I've got 2 minutes till the riot stops. Lets find Jimmy.

Jimmy was charged with 4 counts of rape. He's guilty for all counts. I find Jimmy stabbing a mexican gangster with a Make shift knife. He notices me calmy walking towards him. He sprints for his life, Idiot. I run towards him and tackle him in the ankle. I start viciously knawing through his Achilles Tendon. His blood taste sweet. Now that he can't get up, its time to make this basterd die.

Choking him is nice and slow, until he slowly stops struggling. Another rapist is dead, and I will get transferred into a new prison. And it will start over all again.

"So is this interview over?" I ask him. "Yes, you can go now." He tells me. I can tell the media can't tell whether I'm a saint or a psychopath.

To tell you yhe truth, I don't either