My Dark School Of Thoughts

   I am huddled at the corner scared stiff, weeping and wondering when and how I got myself into this hell. I no longer have control over my actions and mind and it has punished me again for daring to defy it. My last vestige of humanity has been torn away from me without much resistance like it was a piece of paper. The so called inheritance from my aunt had already become a curse to me, a legacy that I am being forced to carry on. First it was the neighbors barking dog that wouldn’t let me sleep at night, then my flirty neighbor who wouldn’t just mind her frigging business then the others followed for no reasons at all. I had already killed sixteen people before I decided that I couldn’t take it any longer. This thing inhabiting me has gotten me into this compulsive organized killing spree. I can feel its strong evil presence inside and around me, I sometimes feel it breathing down my neck and there is this horrid stink to its breath that always leaves me gagging and its breath sometimes caresses my neck down to my back line like the soft touch of a lover I always break out in cold sweat and have goose pimples the size of a meat ball all over my body.                                                                                             

  It all started after I moved into this damned house, the house I inherited from an aunt I hadn’t seen in years. I had just left the hospital after a brief spell of illness when I received the shocking news that she willed her house to  me even when she had children. What should have been strange to me then was that her children didn’t contest the will, in fact they seemed relieved that they didn’t get the house and stranger still was the condition she put along with the inheritance, that I must live in the house for   me to lay any claims to it because the house was a legacy passed down through generations. She further stressed that should any of her children contest her will they would be cut off from it completely because her decision to give the house to me wasn’t her decision but the house’s, she said in quote “The house chose its

owner not me”. Looking back in retrospect I wished I had declined, but considering that at that time I was barely earning enough to feed myself, so who could really blame me? I am a blue collar worker working in an industrial factory as the chief machinist with a meager salary, so when the offer came up it was like Heaven sent, I kept on telling myself that it was just too good to be true, and how right I was then. I moved in immediately and the first night I slept in the house I felt a presence, I heard footsteps on the staircase every night while am in bed and I sometimes catch glimpse of something at the corner of my eyes in the house. Now I have done terrible things in the last six months that would even make the devil cringe and cream his pants.

   The noisy dog was just an irritation that I had to deal with so I wouldn’t call it the inception. It all started with my sexy neighbor, she was just too eager to get into my pants that she didn’t see the blow coming. After it made me kill my neighbor and ate her heart, its hunger for blood grew insatiable so i preyed on the poor unsuspecting stragglers and destitute around the area. It makes me knock them out and bring them back home where the real horror begins for I and them, it gleefully breaks every three hundred and sixty joints on their body in different manners and technique while they are alive, it skins and scalps them, then when the pain has become too unbearable for them to even scream again, it rips off their heart with my hands and eats the heart raw with my mouth, after which it would go to rest in the deepest recess of my being after keeping their skin in a jar filled with liquid preservatives as souvenirs. As time went on I began to understand that I always get a semblance of peace and normality after a kill so I decided to do its bidding as long as it left me alone. Initially we had problems disposing the body until I conceived a brilliant idea that helped us dispose the body permanently, after all it is believed that no crime is committed if there isn’t a body to show. So for months I continued and the whole affair began to take its toll on me, I became a nervous and paranoid wreck because of fear, not fear of being caught but fear for what is in me, because even while committing this crime I can see that I am doing something horrible but I can’t stop myself, I can’t even tell anybody about it and I imagine things are lurking around in the shadows waiting to do me bodily harm. It has isolated me from my friends, family and co-workers, my attitude has taken a turn for the worse, I get unnecessarily angry, I sometimes can’t manage to work out an appetite, if I can manage three hours sleep at night its a miracle and worse my relationship with God has dwindled and I have deserted my duties in the church.

   This is what led to me being punished. It sent me to the usual hunting and I came back home with a victim, when it started its “reaping” for that is what it calls whatever it does to the victims, I realized the victim was a young girl of fourteen. Something in my heart cried out and I tried to fight it, I tried to prevent it from doing to her what he did to the others but I wasn’t strong enough and it made me pay by making me watch it not just break all her joints but her bones too, skinned her alive and worse kept her alive longer than its other victims before it ate out her heart. And I watched helpless crying, hearing her screams and pleading, calling my name and begging me to stop what I was doing to her. At that moment my soul was forever lost and never to be saved again, for I had just mutilated the body of one of my choristers in church, a young girl I used to preach and teach among others the word of God on Sunday. God why have you allowed this befall your servant? Why have you allowed the devil take control of me? All this I asked as I thought of my salvation and what must be done to save the little bit of humanity left in me.

    Today like every other morning of the night after a kill, I am up early to go over and dispose my newest conquest and when I looked at what was left of her innocent face my heart bled and cried out for her, this lunacy had to just end, It had to. I wrapped her body and placed it in my boot and drove up to work, greeted the security and parked at the back of the factory, got out signed in and went straight to start up the grinder and deposited the body in it. You see I work in an industrial meat grinding company, we are contracted by companies that can beef, pork, mutton e.t.c to do their grinding works for them, so that made the disposal of the bodies easy for me because after i grind the human body along with beef, who would know the difference?  After the disposal I went about my work and got lost into it and my thoughts, halfway through my shift an idea began to form in my head, an idea that was going to put an end to this insanity, an idea that was formed out of the desperation, an idea that was probably my only route to salvation, an idea that eventually I acted upon. As 2pm which is when my shift ends for the day drew closer I began to prepare for what had to be done because it was the only way justice would be served and I would pay atonement for my sins, I just couldn’t wait to finish my shift because for my plan to work I had to leave the machine unattended for a few minutes. When it was almost two I got up looked around the factory to see if anybody was watching then dove into the grinder. 

   His screams were muted by the sound of the other heavy machinery working in the factory, so no one knew what happened and when whoever was supposed to take over from his shift came in at about five after two to take over the shift he met the machine just in the last stage of its grinding and unattended too, he looked around in search of him and when he didn’t see him he shrugged then made a mental note to file an official complaint against him because his erratic behaviors would eventually lead to the endangering of his life and others. Then he wondered if his psychotic break down he had eighteen months ago that got him admitted at the sanitarium wasn’t resurfacing again, then he was suspected to be schizophrenic because he was always, paranoid, he hallucinated and was scared, he claimed he was being followed around and he suspected everybody. He got discharged after about a year because he responded well to treatment and when he came back from the hospital his cousins agreed to allow him stay in their dead mothers house since they all lived faraway with their respective families. With that thought he started whistling and continued working the machine.