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|The Manhattan Mangler (standard:horror, 2162 words)|
|Author: Demon Slayer||Added: Sep 24 2000||Views/Reads: 2560/1539||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|The story of a serial killer.....|
Harold was a normal looking white male. He had only turned 21 two days ago. He was a victim of a battered childhood. His earliest recollections were of severe beatings he received from his drunken father. His father would come home drunk, and beat the hell out of his mother. Then he would go to little Harold's room and beat the hell out of him. Harold had a hatred for his mother. He always thought in the back of his mind that she could've done something to stop his father. But now he realized she was helpless against the drunken beast. When Harold turned 15, his father beat his mother so badly, that she almost died. Harold had finally seen and heard enough. He attacked his father with a baseball bat and beat him to death. Being a juvenile, and considering the circumstances, he was set free, and it was ruled as self defense. As he beat his father to death that dark night, he was finally happy. The first time in his entire life, that he could remember actually having something to smile about. His mother remained in the hospital for a very long time. He was shipped to a foster home. That's where he learned about another bad thing in life. He was raped by his foster father. The man was a drunk, and when he came home late at night, he would go to Harold's room. Harold thought of many ways in which he could kill the man. He was finally released back to his mother when she was recuperated. He was now 16. His first date with a girl was quite a disaster. She called him names, and was very mean to him. He began to hate all women for the way she treated him. Harold went out the night after his first date, and met a prostitute in an alley way. But he hated her for being a whore. Harold didn't have any cash. He began to struggle with the woman, and he hit her hard and knocked her unconscious He wanted to kill her, but he left her laying there. He hurried away, and returned home. He went straight to bed. He dreamed about killing her that night. In his dream, he was wearing a dark mask, and carried a large hunting knife and a 9mm pistol. He shot the girl, and after she died, he cut her up pretty badly. He woke the next morning, and thought about his dream alot. He went to the sporting goods section of the local department store. There it was, a large hunting knife with a black leather sheath, just like in his dream. He bought it, and also bought a dark ski mask with only eye holes. He was too young to purchase a gun for himself. He wasn't very happy about that. As he walked the alley ways with his new purchase, a large black man jumped from behind a dumpster brandishing a 9mm pistol. "Give me your fucking money" the man demanded. Harold quickly removed the hunting knife from his bag, and slashed the man's throat before he even saw the knife. The man's throat opened widely. Blood gushed from the deep cut. He had cut him so deep and hard, that his head was barely attached to his body. As the man fell to the ground, his 9mm pistol fell out of his hand. Harold picked the gun up and put it in his shopping bag. Harold stayed home that night. He cleaned his knife, making sure that all of the blood was gone, and he played with the pistol. His mother was watching the news, and he sat on the couch beside her and watched it with her. The first story was about a murder in an alley. The newscaster said the police thought it was a robbery, or probably gang related. Harold smiled. There was also a short story about some maniac who beat a poor girl up pretty bad in another alley, the night before. The police had no clues, and figured it was a whore beat up by her pimp. Harold slept restlessly that night. He tossed and turned all night long. He couldn't sleep. He got out of bed and looked at his watch. 3:30 am. He packed his gun and knife along climbed out his bedroom window. He wandered aimlessly through the dark streets. He found himself very close to the foster home where he had been abused. He stood in the parking lot, and looked up at what used to be his bedroom window there. Suddenly a car turned into the parking lot. He hid behind a large van. As the car door opened, he recognized the man. It was the asshole who raped him. His old foster father. Harold jumped from behind the van, brandishing the 9mm pistol. "Remember me?" Harold asked the man. "Uh, yes, what do you want?" he asked. "Get in the fucking car, and I'll tell you where we are going when we get there". Harold replied. The man drove Harold down by the dark shores of the river. "Stop here" Harold demanded. "Get your ass out of the car" he ordered the man. The man nervously exited the car. Harold withdrew the knife from his back pack and ordered the man to Click here to read the rest of this story (113 more lines)
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