The Highway Killer
What do we know about him?
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Held multiple jobs throughout his life. Worked as a butcher in Wisconsin. Sawmill worker in Tennessee.
Cult LEADER??
Prophet?
Satan
Con-man!
"I am the Light!"
Every person has a story. Some stories are more exciting than others and some are horrifying. The truth usually is. How does a young man of faith spiral into madness, into chaos, into murder? It is said the journey is littered with clues to how the end becomes the truth. The red flags and warning signs of trouble on the horizon. But how does a man change in an instant, like a switch, from God fearing to God hating?
Some will argue that a man is born a killer. Some say a man is the product of his environment. Some say it's the devil's work. Some argue it is something entirely different, not meant for us to know or understand.
When the leaves begin to turn and the ground becomes soaked and puddled, the air becomes crisp and chilling, winter is on its way... autumn the precursor of what is yet to come. Steam rises from heated breath and freshly murdered bodies. Drifting off into the sky, into nothing, and becoming nothing. Much like a damned and tortured soul leaving the body. The cold months was always a favorite time of year for killing. Everyone bundled and huddled up inside, away from the sting of Mother Nature's bite. Less people out and about the better. More room to breathe. Sometimes a breath must be stolen. Taken. And made sure not to return. Some can see a person's true nature in the way their breath leaves their mouths. Some can read the tea leaves of the lips and they are compelled to act, most likely in a violent matter.
When the leaves change, turn the page, and file away another chapter in a book of rage that very few will read. Most will know only what the headlines are in the paper, on the radio, or on the television. Never knowing the whole story and understanding, instead making assumptions from headlines and other's misconceived notions. The horror you see is misperceived, what you miss is beautiful and just. If only you knew the entire truth perhaps you would be a follower too.
What mother have I? What father was there?
Sent away, walked away, like no care in the world. What purpose was I to have? What could I have learned from what raised me? What home is a suitcase to a child? A trip to hospital or police station was the same to me. Taught me my worth. Was told my amount was barely enough for science.
My momma was famous... or maybe it was her mother that was. I don't really know or care to know. My daddy died, horrifically I'm told. By the hands of thugs or the state. Same difference if you ask me. See, they offer you salvation from cruelty and keep you safe until it is no longer in their best interest to do so. If you ask me, my daddy never deserved any good that came to him. He got what he got. An insignificant life snuffed out by his own doing. Couldn't say if that's a tragedy or comedy. I think I laugh at it either way.
Locke Hospital for the mentally ill was the turning point for me. I found purpose in my nightmares. I found the answers that made those nightmares into dreams and goals for my life. I found the light that would guide me through the darkness of what is to come. I carry the burden of that knowledge. Many of the world will reap the whirlwind, only those with my guidance will find redemption and be saved for what comes next, the after. Dr. Jacobs and Dr. Smith have taken a liken to me. We spend many hours a day talking and testing. I don't think they are like the other doctors, these men wear different type of name badges and talk different. They must be special and know that I am special. They are probably important men.
The food isn't the best here. The water tastes funny. I'm certain they are dosing the water with drugs. Too many here live in a happy madness state of mind. I can hear their silent screams inside their heads as their Bodies lay calmly in their beds. I don't mind the tests they give me but I do not like talking about my visitors at night. Things are always worse during the day. I hate the water here.
The truth is, I don't murder people. I remove demons from the world. The rid the Earth from darkness so that the Light my shine bright. I don't pretend to not take great joy in watching the life fade from their eyes. I enjoy it immensely. I know the Light chose me for my ability to stay the course. To believe. To kill what needs to be killed. It is my purpose. Only a selected few will understand.
