Maniac

Dedication- to the bestest scrabble player I know! inspiration for me into the realm of SF...

Somewhere at the edge of some galaxy

The alarms sounded. There was frenzy with all the security bots sheltering hither and thither. A space ship lifted off the facility. He was in it and left out a cry. Having been imprisoned for the last 40 years in solitude would have driven any entity mad. But not he…

They were on his tail. He knew what had to be done. He had worked on this plan to the very last detail. He was only one hyper jump away from the third planet from a distant star. He had chosen an oblivious primitive habituated planet. He put his invention to motion. He used his newly acquired ship sensors to sweep the planet. He zoned in on the baby that had the highest probability of survival. As he entered the planet’s atmosphere his invention started to miniaturize everything around him. So much so that when he reached his target he was but the size of a virus that penetrated the baby’s soft neck and embedded itself in the cortical space below the medulla oblongata and leeched onto the human system for nourishment.


Age 10

He stared at the dog with no fear in his eyes. His eyes were blood red and his fore head was throbbing. And then he gave a maniacal laugh. The dog was twice his size and charged at him. He stood his ground.
Let it come towards him. And as it jumped at him jaws open he took a quick sidestep. The dog missed him by inches. But in that the dog had lost its vantage point. He was quickly onto him and in a swift motion started strangling the dog. He laughed and laughed. He derived pleasure in seeing the dog suffocate to death. He saw it struggle. The dog was nothing but an “it” to him. His neck throbbed. it always did when he killed. He walked back into the recesses of darkness.

Age 25

It was all over the papers. Some smart criminal psychologist had pieced together the relation between 75 homicides in the last 10 years in 25 different countries. They had tried to put into effect a pattern but there was none. In that they were stumped. They did not know who the next victim was. In which country would the next corpse turn up? They had no idea. But this was the kind of challenge that the CP (what the criminal psychologist was called among his peers) had been striving for. To put into effect a moral code and show other people how callous they were and how dedicated he was. It was but a farce.
He laughed to himself perversely. But he had learnt to live with the perverseness. He vowed to track the bastard responsible down. His vow was known to all.

Somewhere…. He looked about. The way he killed became more complicated with each kill. He had to. Otherwise there was no pleasure. He was in a crowded airport. He picked his next victim with a smile. A middle aged faggot… that’s what it looked like to him. He went up to it and asked, “ do you have a light mate?” … it did not answer and ignored him. The faggot was also nothing but an “it” to him. He picked a pressure point. In a swift motion he put a pin in the cutinal marxis nerve in the neck. No one saw him do it. Not even the faggot. He stepped aside and watched him fall down. People gathered around the faggot. He stood there and saw the face of the faggot. He was smiling. He was in extreme pleasure. Others closed their eyes. They thought the faggot was having a heart attack. Three minutes of agony later the faggot finally stopped breathing. He still did not walk away. He continued to stare and smile.
And then he walked away.

The CP looked down upon the victim. He knew it was the work of the bastard he was trying to track. And yet again he had left no clues. He had killed the man with a sterilized 0.2 mm needle in a crowded airport. The CP smiled to himself. Everyone makes a mistake he thought and when this bastard made his he was going to be there to nail him. The intrigue of it all drove him insane and yet that’s what he strived on. The CP commanded the team with a flurry of instructions….


Some years later

The leech detached from the cortical space and left the body through the neck….

He looked at the mirror… he took the nearest object a shoe…. The mirror was broken…. He wailed… he cried… his anguish was known to none… all those faces … no more its…. He could not understand it…

He drove up the hill to the highest point. It was dark and yet to him it was too bright for he could see himself. He saw the city lights all round him now that he was up there at the highest precipice. The CP devised what he was suffering from. He was the killer and yet he did not know it till now… his eyes were blood shot. He had used a knife on his hands body chest…. There was dry blood moist blood fresh blood all over him and yet the anguish was much more hurtful than the physical pain. He cried out…. His vow came back to him and for that brief second he smiled… for he had caught the bastard after all… and he jumped ….

The edge of the solar system:

There was maniacal laughter in the space ship. Nobody was looking for him anymore. The ship was back to normal size. He had made his plan work. He had known all along it would work. He laughed again… and again… and again…..