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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1315012-The-Black-Bag-Prologue
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Drama · #1315012
This is a story about a monstrous serial killer. Journey into the darkness of his mind.
Prologue: Black Bags





         You can feel it in the air. You may not be able to tell exactly what it is, but something lingers. The sky is black and grey with low cloud cover. The wind blows in an errie sort of way; as if it was ushering some kind of apocalypse. Ominous and unpredictable, the atmosphere was not at peace in the small suburban town of Leatherville. The community was one of many surrounding  Love City. Since the ghettos made up most of the neighborhoods, and gangs ran the streets,  the governor thought the suburban communities would make a great attempt at a gentler look for the city. However, recent events would taint the benevolent image.

3:33am

         They are dead, all four of them; an entire family. Their happy little lives, how happy are they now?
Clive Cordell thought as he wiped blood drops off his thin rimmed glasses.

Nobody deserves to be happy, who the hell do they think they are? Skid marks on the underpants of society. Trash, all of them, Clive's eyes stared with discuss
as he loomed over the nude body of Lisa Sanders.

“Mommy ain’t saving no one. Now who is raping who?”
Clive said with a calm disdain.

         Mmmmm, I stare at the bitch's body, she looks so beautiful there on the floor. It is like a masterpiece, with her on her side with her head sprawled on one side. Her right arm outstretched with her fingers slightly curled, and without life. Her long bloodstained blond hair scattered over her bare shoulders. Mmmmmm, gives me a hard on just looking at her. It is not the fact that she is dead, or that I get a boner looking at a dead body; it is the fact that I am the one doing the harm. I am the one who takes control, who takes what cannot be given back. Oh God I love it, who the bitch now? Cordell continued to gloat in his mind.

         Cordell paced slowly in front of the body with a grin on his face. He resembled an animal taking pride in his kill, and was preparing to play with his food. He had his black gloved hands slid into the pockets of his long black slacks. His elbows were slightly bent  holding back his black trench coat, revealing a black dress shirt with pearl colored buttons. He pulled his hands out to grab the victim by the ankles.  He dragged her over to a black body bag. He unzipped the bag and slid her into it. After he zipped her up he moved to the bedroom.
         After marching up a flight of stairs he turned to his left. There he stared at Thomas Sanders; his lifeless body lying on his belly with his hands restrained behind his back with black duct tape. Clive grabbed him by the ankles and yanked him off the bed. THUD!!! The man’s head slammed against the floor. Clive then slid Thomas's body across the wood finish to another body bag. After Clive was finished he grabbed the bag and threw it down the stairs. He then proceeded to downstairs and headed towards the children’s bedroom. Just like the father, they were on their stomachs with black duct tape around their wrist. Clive slung each one over his shoulders and carried them to the living room. There he had two smaller body bags; he put each child in each one. The house was in pretty good shape considering what happened. He knew how to get in without making a noise.
         He picked up Lisa’s body and slumped her over his shoulder and carried her through the back door to a black hearse. He left the car parked in an alley behind the house. He loaded up all the bodies, and disposed of any evidence linking him. This was a good night. A whole family, this was a jackpot.   




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