Man

in #writing6 years ago (edited)

Prologue

May Dawson walked along the stony path away from her high school at the end of the last bell. She was in the twelfth grade, about to graduate, and she was happy that she was getting out of school. Keith, from homeroom, had chatted with her for about fifteen minutes during lunch. She didn’t find him particularly attractive, but he was such a nice guy, a good athlete, and a good student. That’s why she liked him. On the other hand, her friend Jennifer was too busy for her, lately. She missed the times they had spent lunch together and when they would hang out after school.

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But it was a good day, anyway. The good outweighed the bad. Now, she concentrated on walking home. She did not drive; she had passed driver’s ed a couple of years ago, but never took the driving test, because she felt fearful behind the wheel. But thankfully, her house was close by, about a half of a mile away from the school.

When she rounded a corner in a picturesque residential neighborhood, something horrifying happened. A male figure grabbed her from behind, who was a few inches taller than her, a little skinny, but with a few muscles. He had brunette hair, small eyes, and delicate features for a man. Before she could say anything, he put his hand over her mouth and pulled her towards a vehicle. He took out some rope and tape. He tied her up and put tape over her mouth. He put her in the trunk, closed it, and started the car.

Chapter One

They were driving along a highway or something, because it felt like they were going along very swiftly. It was probably late in the day now, considering how much time she thought had passed, which was maybe a few hours. The methodical thud, thud, could have put her to sleep, but she wanted to stay awake. She would not forget that she had been abducted. She could not relax and lose her guard. She was terrified.

She heard him humming in the front seat. It was a high-pitched hum, some tune which sounded happy, but bittersweet. The man had looked like he was in his early twenties. He looked too old to be a student at her high school, and too young to be her father. And then the man started singing lyrics. She could not perfectly hear the words. They sounded like, “and it’s true, true, the love I have for you…”

More time went by. May tried to stay awake as best as she could. She intentionally kept thoughts in her head. She thought about her family and what they were doing right now, whether they were extremely worried or had called the police.

She began to think of ways to escape, but could not think of any. She tried to move her arms and legs, but the rope was too strong, and the knot seemed impossible. She was not good with knots. She could not identify a knot to save her life. She tried to bite the tape with her teeth, but could not.

A couple of hours later the car slowed and then came to a stop. May could hear the car door open and close. She heard his footsteps. And then he opened the trunk and pulled her out. She could smell him now. He was sweaty and dirty. But she got a good look at his eyes again. They were blue and cold. They looked at her which such a calculating intensity that she wished he would not look at her anymore. And then his eyes narrowed even more.

He took the tape off of her mouth, leaving the rope around her body. “What is your name?” he asked.

“Maybe I won’t tell you my name.”

He looked offended, but he untied her, anyway. She did not run away, because she could guess that he was stronger and faster than she was.

“I know what your name is. I only asked you because I wanted you to tell me yourself. It’s May. I know your name because I saw it in the school paper. You wrote an article about the senior prom.”

“That’s right,” she said. “I liked everything about it.”

And then he snickered. “May, you’re not as afraid of me as you should be.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to kill you, May, but I want you to talk to me a little bit before I do so. Will you do that?”

She did not want to speak, at first. “Fine. But I don’t like unpleasant conversation.”

“May, I think you’re pretty,” he said.

She found the compliment creepy. But he looked at her with softness after he said that.

“What’s your name?”

“I won’t tell you that.”

“Fine.”

He had a pensive expression. “Alright, I think I’ve done enough talking, for now. Let’s get you back into the car.”

Chapter Two

He put her back in the car, only this time into the back seat. “I’ve killed a lot of people, May,” he started talking again.

It was quiet in the car, besides the rumble of the wheels against the pavement and the hum of the engine. She began to notice that the man was feminine-looking. He had small bones with an artistic face, with a curve on his nose.

“Why did you kill so many people?” she asked.

“It is because I am crazy,” he admitted. “I get so angry when I see people happy in the world. I learned to kill the day I decided to punch my father in the face when I was fifteen, and that was the first time I had ever been violent in my life. He grabbed my neck and pushed me backwards against the wall, and then I took a pear knife and sliced him in the throat with it. So, I know how to cut flesh. I have seen my father bleed in front of me and die, and then I ran away, I evaded the law. I kept killing people because I liked how it felt. I feel so powerful when I kill. I don’t care anymore if I am caught and punished by the law. I just want to kill as many people as possible to show them how angry I am.”

May didn’t like it. She didn’t know whether to believe him or not. She had never met a killer in her life. Was this really his mind? He was mentally ill, certainly. He was a psychopath. But she began to sympathize with him. 

“Why did you punch your father?”

“Because he was yelling at me. I didn’t like how he bullied me verbally. He did it all the time. He used to hit me when I was younger. He said all kinds of angering things. It just set me off. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“What is your name?” she asked.

“I am not going to tell you that.”

“Then what should I call you?”

“Call me, ‘Man.’”

“Okay, Man.” And then they stopped talking for the time being. Hours later they were still driving. She then asked him, “Do you still plan to kill me?”

And Man didn’t say anything. She looked at him. She thought maybe he was starting to cry. But only a little moisture formed in the corners of his eyes.

Chapter Three

All sorts of thoughts went through her head. She thought about psychopathy, and how most serial killers and mass murderers are labeled as mentally ill, although they do not usually win the insanity plea. She thought about the news, and how it always puts criminals in a negative light. It as good as damns them to hell for the slightest crime. But Man was not what she had ever expected to meet after watching the news for so long. He seemed like he had a heart. She felt sorry for him.

And then, several hours later, he stopped the car again. This time they were in a wooded park. He kissed her on the lips. But it was the kiss of death. He said, “I’m going to kill you now, May.”

But just before he raised it, she said, “Man, I’m not happy.”

“What?”

“You told me you killed people because they were happy, well, I’m not happy.”

“May, none of my victims ever told me that. Are you sure? How do you know you’re not happy? Has anything happened to you?”

“Man, I’m not happy because I am lonely. Please don’t kill me.” And she fell in love with him. It was Stockholm Syndrome. “I want to be with you. Don’t kill me, and I’ll be your companion.”

“I won’t kill you. But you can’t leave. Don’t ever leave me.”

“Man, let’s get back into the car.”

And so they went back into the car, and Man drove. “I’m going to kill lots more people now,” he said. “You don’t have to help me, if you don’t want to.”

But May felt startled.

“Are you going to help me?”

And she came to her senses. What was it, anyway, that intrigued her about him? She could not very well help him. She could not morally be his companion during any more acts of violence. This was evil. “Um, no,” May said.

“I love you, May.”

But May didn’t say anything more. She began to really want to escape. She did not like this. She said to Man, “Please pull over. I think I’m going to be sick.”

And when he pulled over she ran. She ran screaming until another car came and saw and heard her. The driver was a dutiful citizen who brought her into the car and gave her his phone to call the cops as they sped off.

Epilogue

They caught Man that night. And all he said in his defense was, “I killed so many people thinking that one day someone would understand me. May turned out not to understand me. I just wish you police would. I wish the world would understand why I did these things.”

But May did understand him. He was just evil. The allure had only been to learn what drove him to hurt people in the first place, and now she knew.

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