Dark Diaries of Deranged Danny

[mrpain]

Hey this is my first official story so hoped you guys like it. Please leave comments.

 

 

Prolouge

My breath was running out and my feet were almost dead tired. I could not keep this chase up anymore. I knew I had to surrender sometime but I was so unprepared for this moment. I could not see anything except the glowing moon and the eerie darkness.

 

Sirens popped and helicopters swarmed in. The police were really out to get me after all that I had been doing. I kept sending them clues of who was I but they were too dumb to understand what the clues had been all about. I once even sent a goddamn finger with a mini bowtie on it to a detective who has been trying to hunt me down. His name was Detective Kevin Ronald or Detective Kev for short. He hated being called by his last name as he felt that the Ronald family was a disgrace to him and he had a good reason now of why the family was no part of him anymore. And at last, that detective was just right behind my ass.

 

I spotted a familiar building that had some of my key moments of my childhood. It was my former school. Well since I was already in my thirties, why not pay a visit? Twenty years ago, the school had been the most joyous time for most students but it was completely dull for me. Too many classes, too many friends, too much stress and the most painful heartbreak that happened to me at that school. Yup, the school was a pain in my ass.

 

Ironically, the school was now my saving grace. I managed to successfully pick the lock quickly using the small knife that I had been carrying with me since my last killing and ran down the hallway that I so dreaded twenty years ago. Detective Kev followed me behind closely with a pistol in hand. His hand was shaking nervously and I was in clear target in the hallway.

 

I heard his gun cocked and I turned around. Now or never, that was what I thought. He would either have shot me now or he would never shoot me. Between the gun and me were too much love and too many memories.

 

“Don’t make me do it!” he shouted out with much sorrow. His body was motionless except for his hand. The gun was just swinging from left to right.

 

I cleared my throat and said, “Ha,” Well what was I to say with a gun pointing at me? I thought hard and the only way to escape this situation was to hurt Detective Kev, not in a physical way but a mental way. I took two steps backward and said, “Imagine me dying now. At my funeral, if there ever will be one, everybody will mourn at my grave. Then everybody reads my grave and…”

 

Detective Kev took two steps forward and interrupted me, “You are wrong! Nobody will be at your funeral!” He held out his gun as though as was aiming for a headshot.

 

I gave a chuckled and said, “Aw, my feelings are so f*cking hurt. Anyway as I was just saying, everybody or ghosts at the graveyard reads my grave and it reads ‘Danny Ronald’. Below my name will be ‘Serial Killer shot by his own brother, Kevin Ronald’.”

 

Chapter One: The Butcher

Twenty years ago, in that very hallway, I got suspended from school for a week. I was fourteen years old then. Principal Jonathan was neither really happy nor angry with me; he just could not be bothered about me. I just merely injured a boy’s with a knife when we were trying to learn how to bake brownies during Home Economics class and he was not even in serious injury. My father was busy working as a forensic analyst for a Homicide police department and mother was busy attending my neighbor’s dog funeral. Can you even believe they hold funerals for dogs? If I knew they held funeral for dogs, I would have not kill it just for the fun of it.

 

My brother, Kevin Ronald, had to pick me up from school since Principal Jonathan did not trusted me of going back home myself. I still will not forget the moment where I and Kevin had one of our loudest arguments in that hallway. Curse words were involved. I could not remember what we were arguing about, could probably be how irresponsible I was, but we were arguing for half an hour. When the dismissal bell rung, everybody was so eager to see what was going on. We stopped arguing after a crowd of students came and kept on gawking at us. Among the crowd was my best friend Shawn, he was like a real brother to me, and Lina, one of my female friends. She seemed sorry for me.

 

Kevin was dragging me to the school’s car park to his car and I so did not wanted to be with him then. Kevin could be the most annoying brother ever. I thought brothers were supposed to encourage you instead of discouraging you.

 

We got to his car and someone shouted for me. It was Lina’s voice. I ignored her as I was not in the mood for whatever may come. I got into the car and wanted to slam the door to vent my anger. But Lina managed to catch up with me and said in a persuasive tone, “Hey, don’t you ever ignored me like that!” She gave me a hard nudged on my arm and damn did it hurt. She then changed her tone to a more calmly one, “Take care alright? Try to survive for a week would you?”

 

I smiled and did not realize Kevin was already in the car. Kevin looked disgusted and he bellowed out to Lina, “f*ck off! We got too much to deal with now.”

 

He reached out for the door on my side and slammed it close. It gave Lina a fright. Well at least someone else had experience the fury of Kevin instead of always just me. As Kevin started to drive off the school grounds, I waved goodbye to Lina. A tear rolled down on her cheek.

 

The moment we got home was surprisingly quiet. I just stormed out to my room to surf the internet. Kevin went to the mall with his girlfriend after he took a bath. I was alone at last. No school, nobody, just freedom. Well only for a week. I rather be alone than to be with anybody else. When I’m alone, I can be myself, who is very dark. When I’m with others, I have to be someone else so that no one can see the darker side of me.

 

‘You have 314 unread e-mails in your inbox’. Who the f*ck cared? I only used the internet to either be someone else or find people like me. I loaded up Yahoo and there was breaking news. The headline read ‘Red Hooded Butcher cuts again. I searched for a news video coverage of it because I was too lazy to read. I found one and I was amazed.

 

“This has been very tragic. The Red Hooded Butcher has return after a six month hiatus. This time, he has left a bloody mess in this very house I’m standing in front of. His pattern of killings seemed to be different now. So far, all of the victims in this house were involved in an illegal drug trade and each of their limbs was found to be dismembered. Usually the Butcher would only beheaded prostitutes. How do we know he’s the Red Hooded Butcher? Take a look at this video taken by one of the victims, whom did not manage to survive, by his mobile phone.” The reporter looked like she almost regretted giving that speech.

 

The video was bloody alright. The Red Hooded Butcher was an average sized person with a red hood covering his face, a long blade and a psycho ego. The way he cuts of each limbs was cleverly done. There was even a moment where he stopped for awhile to smell the blood. Pure gore. Usually people would be puking the heart out about now but I was interested in this killer.

 

Why the red hood? Who exactly was he? What was his motto? So many questions but no answers. I felt like I was connected to the Red Hooded Butcher and my mind was saying to me, “Let’s go kill someone.”

 

Kill someone? I was just fourteen years old but I was kind of excited of it. Killing an animal had always been a hobby for me but killing a human being? I never even thought of it.

 

Cool.

 

[John 'Jigsaw' Kramer]

Not bad, Pain!

 

Needs a small bit of tweaking with capitol letters and grammar but the overall introduction is fine I liked it!

[jackass2009]

AWESOME!!! I hope they make a book out of it. But it could've been thought of before. Nice job.

[mrpain]

A book huh? That sounds cool. Sorry for posting this chapter late since my first, I had to tweak it a little.

 

Chapter Two: Brotherly Love

Detective Kev was too confused to make a decision. He hated me as a brother but at the same time loved me as a brother too. His index finger kept touching and letting go of the trigger continuously. What was wrong with him? Why was it so hard for him to kill me? I had no problems killing a person ever since I had started my killing habit so why was it so hard for my own brother to kill? Then again, I had never kill a person with a gun before and I obviously did not kill anybody who was blood related to me. But Kevin hated me since I was born. I was also confused. He just found out a reason to hate me more but he had trouble killing. I was a serial killer for god’s sake!

 

“I’m getting bored.” I snorted out. “I’m hungry, got something to eat?”

 

I tried to ease the situation by making him laugh. Problem is, Kevin does not have a sense of humor. Especially when he’s holding a gun.

 

“I’m sorry, Dan.” He apologized with an unsure tone. At first, I thought he was apologizing for having nothing to eat. Then at second, I thought he was apologizing for shooting me later.

 

“Remember the grave. Remember me.” I said, hoping it would calm him down. He was having mix emotions and so was I. He was sad and confused while I was confident and a feeling that says ‘Oh God I hope he doesn’t shoot me!’

 

Upon hearing that, Kevin lowered his pistol down. Now was my chance to run but I did not. I was interested in what he had to say.

 

He did not say anything, just stood there motionless. Under the moonlight, he looked like a vandalized statue. I took a step back, followed by another. Kevin was just staring at me and doing nothing at all. I waved goodbye to him but he did not respond.

 

I just climbed up the school’s staircase without a problem in my way. Then I heard a gunshot. Was I shot? I checked myself and nope, I was not shot. I ran down the stairs to check on my brother to see whether he was alright. It turned out that he had shot himself. Blood oozing out of his stomach. It looked beautiful though. Seeing my brother lying down on the floor and bleeding badly was rather satisfying. It gave me a smile.

 

Kevin used all of his energy to look up at me. His expression was disappointment. He saw me smiling at his misery. “Your fault, not mine.” I said without remorse. It was safe for me to go out of the school’s main entrance now that my brother was out of the way. As I left, Kevin expected me to say something but I did not. I was laughing on my way out and Kevin went into a blackout.

 

Out into the deadly night I went for my next killing.

 

 

 

Chapter Three: Dope Boys

I had just finished my one week suspension and found myself smacked in the middle of school again. A food fight had occurred in the canteen and someone had accused me of starting it. Well I did not start it but I was hoping I would get blame for it so that I could have another week suspension.

 

Unfortunately, I did not get suspended again. Most of my friends saved my ass from suspension by accusing another guy. We did not even know who that guy was and he got blamed for it.

 

It turned out that guy named was Derrick Pulaski. He must have been proud to have that last name.

 

Derrick was a loner and hated by everyone. I always pitied him every time I saw someone picking on him. I care for the innocent and always try to protect them. And Derrick was one of them.

 

In class, he was sitting beside me and I could feel his fear towards me. I gave him a smirk and he went into fear overdrive.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you? Are you scared of me because you got accused?” He then looked behind me as if my shadow was going to kill him.

 

“It’s not you Danny, its Packie. There beside you” I looked over my shoulder and there was this rough looking dude sitting beside me.

 

He took a glance at me, fiercely, and then pointed the finger to Derrick. Packie did not look so tough, he just acted tough. So why was Derrick so afraid of him? Oh right, he was a pussy.

 

“Please, get rid of him for me.” Derrick pleaded to me as if I was his mother. He almost cried out mommy to me and I was so tempted to say, “Do I look like I have boobs which you suck on?” But I did not say it. Damn.

 

“Why?” That was the obvious question wasn’t it?

 

“He’s a dope boy. I bought some drugs which I did not know of from him and now he’s asking for more money. Please talk him out of it.”

 

“Why talk when you can do?” That voice came from nowhere. I checked around the class and saw no one who said that to me. “Save the boy. Kill the other.” I then realized that voice was in my mind. The Red Hooded Butcher inspired me so much that it gave me an inner shadow that tells me what is wrong or right.

 

The problem was I did not know who ‘the boy’ was and who ‘the other’ was.

 

“I will take the blame for the food fight if you can just get rid of him.” He grabbed my arm tightly and almost scratched off my skin. Firstly, I did not cause the food fight. Secondly, Packie is somewhat of a drug dealer and the Butcher kills drug dealers. Lastly, what did Derrick meant by ‘rid’? I was sure it was not the ‘rid’ that I was thinking of.

 

“Okay.” And with that word, class ended. Wait, did class even started? I did not remember anything I learned.

 

So after the class I went back to my locker and grabbed a small blade I stole from the Home Economics room. I hid in my pocket and then heard a loud bang on the locker beside me.

 

It was Packie.

 

“What that little f*cker say?” He clenched his fist in front of my face and it smelt like a rat’s ass.

 

“He said you were a dope boy.” Whatever that meant, I just continued on, “I hear you got the finest drugs to satisfy a boy like me.”

 

He put his fist down and whispered to me in the ear, “3 o’clock in the janitor’s room.”

 

My inner shadow also whispered to me, “Is this dude trying to kill himself? Janitor’s room, perfect place for a first kill.”

 

I gave a shake with him and said, “3 o’clock it is.”

 

Ahh, I could smell the blood already.

 

[mrpain]

Ah having writer's block!

 

 

Chapter 4: Who’s Next?

After the exhausting run from the police, I got back to my apartment to decide on whom to kill next. My inner shadow was hungry for another kill after a one week hiatus.

 

But before that, I turned on the television to check the news of the new serial killer in town which was of course me. The news report showed my brother, Detective Kevin, being carried into an ambulance.

 

The newscaster reported, “Detective Kevin Ronald had a struggle with the still unknown serial killer,”

 

Struggle? More like suicide.

 

“Detective Kevin managed to survive the gunshot wound he had sustained. Earlier before he was carried into the ambulance, he had this to say.”

 

Kevin appeared hurt. Not physically hurt but mentally hurt. He must have been thinking of me.

 

A news reported asked him, “Detective Kevin, will you describe to us the situation that had happen back in the school?”

 

Kevin tried to sit up straight but the wound was preventing him to do so. He gave a confident smile and said, “I managed to catch up with and pinned him down. He tried to reach for my gun but I managed to get a hold of it. He grabbed my arm and the gun fired during the struggle.”

 

Kevin was always a good liar and only I and my inner shadow could tell when he was lying.

 

Someone shouted from the back to Kevin, “Did you get a look at him, sir?”

 

I felt cold. So far no one has known that I had a wonderful hobby except for Kevin.

 

Kevin cleared his throat and said, “No. It was too dark.”

 

And with that last line I switched of the television. I began to do my research for my next victim. Like I had said before, I don’t kill the innocent. Only the dangerous.

 

I hacked into the police database by using my brother’s account and began searching. Drug dealers, child predators, wife murderers and all sort of bad people came up. There was one person who caught my eye, Nicholas Paul.

 

It was a familiar name, in fact, too familiar. I clicked on his name and database described him as a youth hero by day, dark avenger by night. He was a teacher at my school and taught me everything I knew. He was the one who connected me with my inner shadow. He was the one who taught me to raise the knife. He was the Red Hooded Butcher. Too bad his file said deceased. I knew who killed him and I could not blame that person for killing him.

 

After reading his file, I looked for another criminal. A sexual predator came up. I just loved killing sexual predators; they are just a unique bunch. Every time they saw me holding a knife, they would give me a seductive look mixed with a scared as sh*t face.

 

I read the file and it was quite interesting. It was not the description that caught my attention, although it did say he molested 87 people in one hour, but it was the name.

 

It was Derrick Pulaski.

 

 

[leone 13]

hey sorry for the off topic, but can u put the new website in your sig, seeing as your popular, here's the link: LINK REMOVED

Edited December 21, 2009 by Masterkraft

[mrpain]

I'm baaaaack...with this story. Has been 7 months since a I posted a piece. Time to revive it once and for all.

And it's time I clear up something. Chapters with odd numbers are flashbacks.

 

 

Chapter 5: First Blood

 

If the Red Hooded Butcher knew what I was going to do, he would have been proud. I was actually going to kill somebody! I was busy baking cookies for Home Economics class when I spotted a clean small blade lying innocently on the table next to me. I looked at the clock and it was ticking at 1 p.m. The hype was killing me. I literally could have just stabbed anyone in the room at that time.

 

The inner shadow started to speak again with such a cheerful voice, "Yay! A perfect blade! Take it."

 

I looked around the room to see if anyone was watching me but everyone was to busy baking cookies. I then began to have a craving for cookies.

 

The inner shadow was getting impatient, "Take it! This is a Home Economics class!"

 

Without haste, I swiped the blade and stuffed it in my backpack. The bell rung and my inner shadow was delighted, "Perfect timing."

 

Although it was only two o’clock, one hour till the meeting, I proceeded on to the janitor’s room to inspect the place. No one uses the room after school on that day and the corridor leading to the door was deserted. A serial killer’s dream palace.

 

I wished I had a better weapon of choice rather than that small blade. It’s efficient but not bloody enough. I spotted a big closet, comfortable for hiding. I didn’t want any cramps when I slit his throat off. A nice clean slice would do the trick and I needed my best body shape.

 

Tick tock, it was three o’clock. The door opened and out came the dope boy. Packie sat down in a corner with a bag in his hand, obviously it contained the dope.

 

He, and me too, waited for half an hour because I wanted the perfect time to strike. He got bored after awhile and stood up from where he was sitting. He checked his watched and was getting impatient. He paced around just to clear the boredom and soon he was standing right in front of the closet I was hiding in.

 

I popped out my blade and whispered to his ear, “Thank you for this.” I slashed out his throat and the way the blood flowed out was beautiful, pure art. I tried to enjoy the moment as much as I could before I realized I had to dump the body.

 

Fortunately, I was in a janitor’s room. The supplies I needed to clean up were already there. I almost cried when I had to wash the blood away. Such great work but I knew it had to be clean and shiny again.

 

As I was about to cover up the body, the door opened and I froze. I wasn’t prepared for getting caught so I seek my inner shadow for advice. But it was not there. It felt like my own inner shadow pushed me in front of a bullet and abandoned me like a coward. I felt alone with it gone and I was angry about it.

 

I scampered around the room until I found a closet I could hide in. I saw a silhouette of a man staring into the masterpiece I made in the room. He didn’t seem shocked or disgusted, he looked disappointed.

 

He was a very strange man as he spoke to himself in a deep voice, “Damn someone got to him first.”

 

He took some trash bags from the room and covered the body like he had done it before. Professional work indeed. My mindset had completely changed to unnecessary panic to smug confidence as I had someone to do the cleaning for me.

 

As he whistled his way out, I wanted to come out of hiding just to shake his hand. That was interrupted when I saw his face once he opened the door. The light outside shone on his face and my jaw dropped. “How could it be?” That was I could think about.

 

The man was the only adult I’ve my respect for. It was my Biological teacher, Mr.Paul.