Snapped

Three years.

Three years had passed since I killed my last victim and I was starting to go insane. What's wrong with me? I had never gone through any withdrawals before. I have everything that I needed, but yet I can't get myself to do it. For a good five years I was able to kill without any hesitation and now all of a sudden I couldn't. Should I turn myself in? Should I find someone to be another victim so I could feel better?

I paced back and forth in my apartment, trying to fight the urge from exploding. A couple who lives next began to argue at one another and it was making the matter worse for me. My hands started to tremble and I finally gave in and agreed that I needed to kill again. I walked into the bedroom and grabbed my supplies out of my closet and placed them on the bed. Rope, duct-tape, hunting knife and black gloves. Wait. My gloves aren't there. How can I forget my gloves? I always kept them in the closet with the rest of my supplies. I tore apart my closet to look for them, but they weren't there.

I must have dropped them when I was taking them out of the closet, I thought. I checked underneath the bed and there was no sign of them. Nothing else was on the floor and the arguing continued next door. Without looking throughout the rest of the apartment, I gathered my supplies that I did have and made my way to my next victims. I looked to make sure that the hallway was clear before going next door and began to knock on the door.

The husband had opened the door and I shoved him back inside as I locked the door behind me. The young couple looked at me in fear as the husband turned his anger towards me and that's when I snapped. As he began walking towards the phone, I grabbed the lamp that was sitting by the door and hit him in the back of the head. As his wife began to scream, I ran and grabbed her before she could scream even more as I tied her up and duct-taped her mouth shut. After I had made sure that she wasn't going anywhere, I had gotten down to business with her husband. Before he came around, I quickly tied him up and took my hunting knife and pushed it right into his chest.

He was barely conscious when it happened and he didn't even scream. Within minutes, the wonderful husband died and my sanity was slowly coming back. I could hear the sobbing coming from the wife and it was time to finish what I had started. I took the knife out of her husband's chest and slowly walked towards her. Without missing a beat, I had taken the same knife and driven it into her chest. Silence fell as I staggered to a wall feeling like a blanket of relief had gone over me. I looked at my hands and noticed that they were covered in blood, but who cares? I was feeling sane again. That was the only thing that mattered that day.

As I sat against the wall I heard people running outside of the apartment. The door was kicked in and about four cops came storming into the apartment and saw what I had done. My bloodied hands were raised up in the air in defeat with a big smile on my face. Nothing mattered anymore other than my sanity finally came back completely.