To Kill a Man: The Life of a Mad Man

I struggled quite a bit making this short story. It is a very dark creepy tale into the mind of a sick person. I am usually a happy go lucky kind of guy so it was very hard to do. I think I like the addition of dark/goth/horror content involved in a story just not the whole thing. My next stories will most likely be more comedy and fantasy, but I will remember what I learned here and use it for something else. Nothing is wasted in life. Nothing. Happy April Fools' day.

To Kill a Man: The Life of a Mad Man

Recently released: The personal [written] audio logs of the psychotic murderer, Sime Nane, on record about his first homicide.

I am Sime Nane. I am insane. To kill a man is nothing short of sweet. I can do this. I will do this.

May, 13 2000

Sometimes I...wake up and see nothing. I feel like I am nothing. Then I get out of bed. Realize, I have to get ready for the rest of the day. All these other thoughts come in. It all makes sense. Love. Life. Happiness. Friends. My past, future, present, and then I brush my teeth. What does it mean? Am I slowly slipping into insanity? Am I go insane or have I realized something. Something that can make or break a man. A human being. Or is it just another question. Who am I? What am I doing here? Only time will tell.

May, 14 2000

My insomnia's getting worse. I...I'm not sure how it started. Either jokingly being around my family or the mere fact that with my generation it's very easy to fall off track with the natural cycle of things. But its hit the tipping point. I don't need to sleep at all. Well, only to catch an hour or two for my eyes. Just to know I am alive. I don't even know what the day is anymore. If the days mean anything. I once joked about going a week without sleep. Some joke.

May, 15 2000

I exist, but its quite pointless actually. Even the sweetest moments of my life are just a joke. An ice breaker at that ah, party. Sure I get laughed and ridculed like everyone else. Just like your average citizen. Except I don't like it and I don't think I deserve it. But there is a way. A way for me to take charge of my life. Just its...not what people would expect. Not even what I would expect. It's not the answer that drives me. Not even the question. I think I know what I have to do.

May, 16 2000

I struggled sleeping again last night. It has been a while since I have had a good nights rest. I guess it does not matter. I usually dream horrible things and this was no exception. I cannot remember what it was. The only thing I can say is that it scared the life out of me and I liked it. Not how someone likes ice cream or walks by the beach. But how you like it when the bad guy wins or when a woman gets a beating. Yes, my enjoyment. My pleasures in life have changed. Taken a complete one-eighty.

May, 17 2000

Walls, I remember the walls from my dream now. They were full of the dead body parts of everyone I have ever known. I killed people and lusted for more. I hated it. But this was a dream of course. One thing that I know for sure is that I do not want to stop. I do not want to stop killing or hurting, because it makes me feel complete. Even if the feeling lasts for only a short while. Even if it is all in my head. It is worth it.

May, 18 2000

My greatest fear is not being caught or even dying as a sinner. I think my greatest fear is no longer feeling this sensation. The best way to describe it is like a blood rush, a sugar high. If only people knew how good it feels. Once you get past the unbelievable fear and sickness that people feel about it. To overcome the mere sight of death and partake in it. Become it. Do not hate or love the lack of life because there will always be living things. To take away that which is alive is to feel great for being a part of the divine plan. This is what brings a smile to my face. Slice of skin here, a splash of blood there. Yes, once you get past that first initial feeling that murder is wrong, it is addictive. I simply let go and lust for a warm body.

May, 19 2000
Today I almost lost my nerve. My grip on reality is running thin. I had to kill that store clerk. I am so stupid because I didn't. Such a stupid mistake on my part. I still remember the smile he gave as he handed me change for my lighter. The lighter was for him. It was only an hour ago but my blood is still rushing. Do you think he knew I was planning to use the lighter to burn him? To burn his whole store down? This is what I love about people. They are so clueless about the important things in life. Especially death. When I am staring at you and smiling, I am going to kill you. Without hesitation I could kill as easy as I sleep. I know this now. Even if it means waiting for the kill, I will make sure to get you to bleed. I am not done with him. I am not done with anyone.

May, 20 2000
Sure, I am crazy but would I really care about people, life, even if I thought I was sane? Would I stop myself? Let me explain this almost amazing kill. Remember, the other day I had planned to kill the clerk so subtle like. I bought the lighter and left. Then, today I came back. I asked for the bathroom key and right before I walked out I asked him to show me where it was exactly. The rest was well thought out. He was nothing to me, but another dead piece of meat. Clearly ignoring everything he was saying he walked over to me and pointed to the bathroom around back. I did what came naturally after that. I grabbed his finger and bent it backwards like a twig. The next parts came by so fast. I just shoved his face through the glass door knocking him unconscious or he might have been in shock. It was loud and noticeable. But it felt great. The next part was supposed to be the best. But this is where the problem came into play. I had planned in my head to slowly drag him to the bathroom, bite his neck, and then suck his blood till he slowly died in my arms. That was when I realized my mistake that this was all in my head. Was that the mistake? My head hurts.

May, 21 2000

When I get myself into a very dark mood I think of ways to kill people. I mean if I do not kill people differently every time it gets very boring. Today, while I was thinking these things someone was watching me. Not a cop, but maybe a PI. Private Investigators are worse than reporters in my eyes. They dig deeper for the story, carry p-shooters, and are always near a phone and a car. This PI must have been on my case for a while. For some reason, maybe a jealous girlfriend or something more human like tax evasion. No way he was tailing me. I am too paranoid to have a tail. Whatever the case might be when the PI takes my picture I am done for. I saw him just take off in his car and one snapshot is all it takes to finish my parade. And I love a parade. He could just watch me drag a guy’s body to some desolate spot and the second I struggle, I notice something is off. Click, smile for the camera. I do not want my parade to end for nothing, but it must end.

May, 22 2000
I do not see my stalker today. I am insane, its nothing really. Although my features are so common it will not be hard to find me. Silver eyes full of dark creases. Greased up straight hair. And my tall slim figure with a heavy hunchback. I am done for. The cops will notice my common spots and daily activities I partake in this city. Even now I should be running. But I am not. I kill people. So what. I should be caught. I should be punished by the strict hand of the law. People need someone to blame to feel safe. Yes. I don't need to stop. This is my fate. So I am going to just wait here right by the door. Wait for them to knock it down. No, first they will knock. Knock aggressively no doubt. Maybe, just maybe I will strike first. Who knows.

May, 23 2000

Hell, this looks like the end of my insane thoughts. My mindless killing spree. I wonder what they do to killers in prison? What am I saying. I will not even get that far. Open and shut case. Murderers only go to one place.To whoever finds this I have one word of advice. No matter how obtuse or bizarre a dream might be, follow it. In the end be proud of the choices you made. Of who you are. Kill or be killed.

Prior audio logs placed with the above collection by Sime Nane.

Feb, 24 1999
Today, I have to be honest, because I feel pretty good. Actually I think I feel kind of like a mix between the thoughtless drunk and the peace talking pot smoker. You feel good, smooth, and peaceful. Why do I feel these great moments of Euphoria for nothing. Is my mind trying to tell me something. Is my body confused? As I sit here I start to calmly thinking about asexuality. I wish to declare myself an asexual. Not too long ago I used this as an excuse. I have a lack of interest in sex of any kind, except I still play with myself, but what turns me on is a little abstract. I am afraid to tell people what it is that gets my blood pumping.

Feb, 25 1999

So this is definitely not asexuality or even a mid-life crisis. I am just a middle aged, confused, sex crazed alcoholic. Like most males my age, I am regretfully normal. My only regret is that I cannot blame my confusion or lack of social relationships on anyone else but me. I am just the run of the mill adult getting by with no debt to society.

Feb, 26 1999
So now that the past day of highness is out of the way I can seriously talk. Something is really bugging me. I remember how I always have a set goal in my mind for my life. Like sex, ignore it. Relationships, run away. I do this almost every year like a New Year’s resolution even if I am not trying. It naturally happens and I think it’s healthy. Every second we are growing and evolving and I doubt I can stop my thoughts from doing the same. I am changing and what better time then right now.

Feb, 27 1999
So I start thinking about my past and perceive insanity as a plausible part of life. My life. Where I stand is simple and open. I am open to the idea of killing my dreams and goals because it is all in my mind. Killing, this intrigues me even more. I think that I have been this way for a while. The same interests since I hit puberty. My mind works like a system with two sides. One is almost entirely separate from the other. I want to kill and hate people. A casually suave thing. I always start with one person but I have no real cap on how many. Only my expectations are for it to be real, intentional, and be caught in the moment. Pure unexpected tension and hopefully more.

Feb, 28 1999

The only way I see having sex now is very odd. I think all my experiences are slowly leading me to this point. My awkward conversations with people, my disregard for my body, my random jobs, my constant stalking. It is bound to happen. I find that doing this is not going to make me a whore but instead that it will set me up for a life with an unknown but special death. So my first goal is interconnected with my finale. Naturally I assume every little experience in life is a moment of importance valued and studied leading to that point of fruition. The goal. I think I am realistic. I am not normal among most heterosexual men. I just get these strong random thoughts. Like a strong itch. Rather, I will seclude myself off for a little while. Dreams, life, reality. I need to understand and interpret these meanings.

Current audio logs are Sime Nane's final words while in custody before his execution.

Final Day, 1. Killing

To be honest, I was disappointed. The man I killed was not my stalker, but I could not sleep on an empty stomach. That night when I came home I had suspected a burglary. My stalker was the suspect, but I was a bit let down. I found things messed about and items taken. I was frustrated and confused. That was when I called the men in black and blue. Why not? Going out to get some air was all I could do, this average citizen. Although outside was my reward. A random passerby making out with my neighbor by her doorstep caught my attention. Those lovely words. I had to crush him. I was compelled. "Baby you are something sweet, lata," the greasy way he said it full of life. As he walked by my place I took out a cigarette and offered one to him. He politely denied, the greasy swine. That was when I struck. I carefully went to light the denied cigarette, but dropped the lighter. Was this a mistake? He had watched me carefully and went down to pick it up. I looked up at the bright moon so beautiful, so innconcent. I am not sure what happened next, but the blood rush was intense. I was holding a man like a simple little animal in my cold embrace. We both lay there one dead and the other cold. I had killed a man in the full moon light open to the eyes and ears of all. Was I stupid or passionate? Neither I'd assume.

Final Day, 2. Getting Caught

The law was coming for me and I told them to come. There was blood everywhere. More then I had suspected could come from a greasy swine like him. I was gentle. Holding him in my arms as the blood oozed out of his eyes. Was that what I did? It is hard to remember something so sensational. Almost like your first time, it is a moment, but it is so forgetful. I heard a scream when I looked down from the full embrace of the moon. Two men in black and blue had picked me up and slammed me so inconveniently into the ground. I watched the blood drip towards me as I was quickly dragged away. People were starting to gather around. I saw a lady crying, the man's prior lover. She screamed again, oh, so sweet like. I only wish there was a way to reset the moment or freeze it in my mind. But the first time slips away. Sadly, it all slips away.

Final Day, 3. Conclusion

I see through a single eye of light blue. What I see is how I kill you. What I did was nothing hard. To kill a man. I confess because I take heart into what I do. This is my passion even right before my own death. So many people I could have killed, but I am not some random killer. This is an art. This takes intelligent direction and skillful execution, if I can quote an old friend. Everyone is depressed and angry on the inside. No one is happy. My death shall cause some closure. Tomorrow I die and life is so sweet. I die with a purpose. I die with defeat.