M
Miss Murder
Guest
In the Mind of Zaine ( A Original FF )
Rating: PG13 - R
Warning: This is bloody and psychopathic, so it may disturb some of you. Yet there isn't anything sexual, it is cannibalism and serial killing. But none of the characters in this story relate whatsoever to anyone in reality. No one, not at all. ^^
Intro: First off, I would like to say that I first thought of Zaine and invented him as a cartoonish drawing, but later made him into the ingenious cannibal and serial killer he is today. So now I take you into a world of bloodshed, into a world of true reality; Into the Mind of Zaine.
Chapter 1:
A scream rang through the ears of all the occupants of the bustling bar one night at around 4 am on the dark and dreary pavement of South 23rd street. It was only heard for a split second, so all who heard it couldn't even be sure that they did hear it at all. All time seemed to hang there for a moment; brawly men playing pool looked up, startled, from their game. Two guys fighting paused their brawl, fists hanging in midair. Even a hooker from outside the bar turned away from the street to peer into the misty and cracked glass of the bar to see where the scream had originated from. But no one, ( not even the hooker ), could see or tell where exactly the scream had come from. In truth, the scream, a woman's scream, had originated from the back of the bar. But it's not like any of the residents of the bar would have any clue to that, of course. In the next moments, however, life returned to the bar and its occupants returned to what they had been doing. However, the two men who had been fighting ceased their fighting and instead decided to indulge in beer, so as to get drunk, naturally. So to all those unsupecting and unknowing people, everything was normal in the town of Marshalltown, Iowa. But everything was most definately not normal.
An eighteen year-old boy walked out of the back of the bar, carrying with him a large black bag, which he slung over his back. For a split second, almost as quick, if not swifter, than the scream heard minutes before was, a glint of metal could be seen under the boy's black leather jacket in an inside pocket of it. Slightly bloodied bandages were wrapped around the boy's neck and torso, also under his black leather, unzipped, jacket. The boy's long black hair with red highlights hung in his eyes, but did nothing to his impeccable eyesight. This amazing, ingenius boy was named Zaine.
Zaine's mouth was closed, of course, but if you were one of his unlucky victims who were the only ones to see it open, you would see that his canines had been purposefully sharpened so as to make his 'unique' and grotesque diet easier to indulge in. For, you see, Zaine was a cannibal. In fact, he was also a serial killer. But no one but Zaine himself, and the dead of course, knew of his deadly secret. Yet the dead could be a very reliable source, so Zaine made sure that even in death his victims could not tell his dastardly secret, for Zaine thought of near everything. So instead of letting them rest in peace and reveal his secret to the world, Zaine ate the carcasses of his victims . . . and on certain days the occasional living person who he had captured formerly. He was not overly muscular, but Zaine was far from being just a serial killer and cannibal. To some he may have easily been considered psychopathical, but in reality he wsa much more than that. He was, simply put, a genius of sorts. This is Zaine's deadly and dark story, his background and his story. This story goes into his ingenius and psychopathical mind, the mind of a serial killer and the mind of a cannibal; Into the mind of Zaine himself.
He walked through the dark allyway that led out of the back door of the bar where he had killed his latest victim, a victim who he presumed did not follow the rules. The rules, of course, referred to the rules of curfew in the small town of Marshalltown, Iowa. Legends and accounts of a teenaged cannibal and serial killer had spread throughout the county, yet no mortal knew of Zaine's true identity. And Zaine intended to keep it that way. Because of these legends and the continued killings of humans, a law was passed in Marshalltown forbidding any person, child and adult alike, from being outdoors passed 11pm every and any night. But the occupants of the bar on this fateful night either were from different towns or cities than Marshalltown, weren't familiar with the legends, didn't care about the myths, or had been dragged there by friends or family that night or other nights. In Zaine's mind, it didn't matter which way you viewed it from, a barful of unsuspecting drunken people was just a hunting waiting to happen. So Zaine had carefully and selectively chosen his victim, this particular time it was a young sixteen year old girl named Rachael Miller, and had been watching her for a few weeks or months now.
So once he had carefullly planned out everything that would happen, he waited for the night Rachael would be out late, and she had chosen this particular and fateful night for her late-night outing to the local bar. The perfect and nearly once in a lifetime opportunity, Zaine had reasoned. So Rachael had apparantly gotten drunk, and went into the woman's bathroom to either put on makeup or throw up as a reaction to the overuse of alchohol. But her reasons, Zaine didn't care for. He hid in the shadows outside of the woman's bathroom for a few moments, watching Rachael carefully and planning out every one of his moves. But, that was almost ruined when Rachael saw Zaine's reflection behind her in the mirror. That was when the scream took place, but Zaine moved so swiftly and silenced her so quickly that it was almost unheard of. After he had ended her life for sure, he walked over to one of the bathroom stalls and removed the black bodybag he had stowed there earlier for future use. Taking out the knife he had hidden under his jacket, Zaine got to work silently and quickly cutting Rachael up into smaller and transportable pieces, which he soon put into the black bodybag. Of course, before he did this he carved out Rachael's lifeless eyes and ate them on the spot. After doing this and licking his lips, Zaine washed himself clean of her lifeblood and made his leave from the bathroom and the bar, by means of the back door he had entered through earlier. Of course, Zaine left his calling card in the bathroom as he usually did after a murder: the victim's bodyless, eyeless, and bloodied head in the room. This time he left it propped up against and inside the sink, with his initials carved into her forehead. They read, as always, "Z.W." No one but Zaine himself knew of his last name, not even the people who owned the apartment he now headed to after disembarking from the bar.
As he walked down the dark alley still, he recollected the many legends and myths that had emerged from his cannibalism and serial killings. Many, if not all, of them spoke of the "Teenage Terror's" ability to almost hypnotize his victims with his eyes. Yet, how would they know that, when the cannibal Zaine, as he revealed himself as a murderer and a cannibal, was never seen but by his vicitms who never lived to tell the tale. Despite this, the legend of his hypnotic eyes was completely true, though how people came to know that Zaine will never know or learn of. As he remembered this, Zaine laid the black bodybag against a building in the ally and took out a black and red blindfold, which he tied around and in front of his blood red and seemingly hypnotic eyes. His long black and red bangs covered over the blindfold, so that no one could even see it even if they had so good of vision that they could see in the darkness of the night. Letting his hair fall over the blindfold, Zaine picked up the black bodybag once again and started off back for his apartment, which was on the same South 23rd street as the bar, so it wouldn't be too far.
Even though there wouldn't be many people out walking or driving this late at night, especially not on such a desolate street in such a bad neighborhood as South 23rd street, to anyone who happened to be passing by it would look as if a teenage boy were just carrying an especially heavy and large bag back from the local Wal-Mart, wood stock, or any other place where he happened to be coming from. Even the blood from Rachael's cut up carcass wouldn't soak through the bag for about another fifteen minutes. So Zaine trudged along, not struggling the slightest under the weight from the bag. Soon he reached his abode on the dark street. There weren't very many other people in the apartment complex, due to infestations and foundation problems, and the other people who resided in the apartment weren't anywhere near Zaine, so he always had his privacy.
Zaine leaned the black bodybag once again against the building and reached into his black jacket pocket and fished out his apartment key, which he used to unlock the front door to the apartment. After doing this he once again picked up the black bodybag containing his dark and gruesome goods, and walked into the building, kicking closed the door quietly and locking it after him. Silently, so as not to alert the other residents of the apartment a ways away from him, Zaine walked up the stairs to his room, and unlocked it like he had the front door, and shutting it and bolting it and locking it in the same matter as many times as the locks would allow. Zaine walked into the living room area of his apartment room, where there was a couch, table, and television, and laid the bodybag down on against he side of the couch. As it laid there awkwardly, Zaine walked into the small kitchen area and got out a few large plates, forks, and knives. He also opened the refridgerator and got out a can of Pepsi. He kicked the door of the refridgerator closed and walked back into the living room area, where he sat the plates, forks, knives, and Pepsi can down on the table in a neat fashion.
Next, Zaine opened up the bodybag and began to get out its contents, which he laid out on the plates, raw of course. Reaching over to get a remote, Zaine flicked on the television, popped the tab on the can of Pepsi, and began to indulge in his meal as he watched the news.
End of Chapter 1
(( So I hope you liked. . .or at least were slightly interested in looking into my slighlty disturbed mind, tell me what you think of it! I know, it's very odd and dark, but I suppose a lot of people here may like it like I like dark stuff. So anyway, rate and tell me what you think of Zaine's odd beginning story. . .I may continue it based on what people think of it and if I feel like continuing it. ))
Rating: PG13 - R
Warning: This is bloody and psychopathic, so it may disturb some of you. Yet there isn't anything sexual, it is cannibalism and serial killing. But none of the characters in this story relate whatsoever to anyone in reality. No one, not at all. ^^
Intro: First off, I would like to say that I first thought of Zaine and invented him as a cartoonish drawing, but later made him into the ingenious cannibal and serial killer he is today. So now I take you into a world of bloodshed, into a world of true reality; Into the Mind of Zaine.
Chapter 1:
A scream rang through the ears of all the occupants of the bustling bar one night at around 4 am on the dark and dreary pavement of South 23rd street. It was only heard for a split second, so all who heard it couldn't even be sure that they did hear it at all. All time seemed to hang there for a moment; brawly men playing pool looked up, startled, from their game. Two guys fighting paused their brawl, fists hanging in midair. Even a hooker from outside the bar turned away from the street to peer into the misty and cracked glass of the bar to see where the scream had originated from. But no one, ( not even the hooker ), could see or tell where exactly the scream had come from. In truth, the scream, a woman's scream, had originated from the back of the bar. But it's not like any of the residents of the bar would have any clue to that, of course. In the next moments, however, life returned to the bar and its occupants returned to what they had been doing. However, the two men who had been fighting ceased their fighting and instead decided to indulge in beer, so as to get drunk, naturally. So to all those unsupecting and unknowing people, everything was normal in the town of Marshalltown, Iowa. But everything was most definately not normal.
An eighteen year-old boy walked out of the back of the bar, carrying with him a large black bag, which he slung over his back. For a split second, almost as quick, if not swifter, than the scream heard minutes before was, a glint of metal could be seen under the boy's black leather jacket in an inside pocket of it. Slightly bloodied bandages were wrapped around the boy's neck and torso, also under his black leather, unzipped, jacket. The boy's long black hair with red highlights hung in his eyes, but did nothing to his impeccable eyesight. This amazing, ingenius boy was named Zaine.
Zaine's mouth was closed, of course, but if you were one of his unlucky victims who were the only ones to see it open, you would see that his canines had been purposefully sharpened so as to make his 'unique' and grotesque diet easier to indulge in. For, you see, Zaine was a cannibal. In fact, he was also a serial killer. But no one but Zaine himself, and the dead of course, knew of his deadly secret. Yet the dead could be a very reliable source, so Zaine made sure that even in death his victims could not tell his dastardly secret, for Zaine thought of near everything. So instead of letting them rest in peace and reveal his secret to the world, Zaine ate the carcasses of his victims . . . and on certain days the occasional living person who he had captured formerly. He was not overly muscular, but Zaine was far from being just a serial killer and cannibal. To some he may have easily been considered psychopathical, but in reality he wsa much more than that. He was, simply put, a genius of sorts. This is Zaine's deadly and dark story, his background and his story. This story goes into his ingenius and psychopathical mind, the mind of a serial killer and the mind of a cannibal; Into the mind of Zaine himself.
He walked through the dark allyway that led out of the back door of the bar where he had killed his latest victim, a victim who he presumed did not follow the rules. The rules, of course, referred to the rules of curfew in the small town of Marshalltown, Iowa. Legends and accounts of a teenaged cannibal and serial killer had spread throughout the county, yet no mortal knew of Zaine's true identity. And Zaine intended to keep it that way. Because of these legends and the continued killings of humans, a law was passed in Marshalltown forbidding any person, child and adult alike, from being outdoors passed 11pm every and any night. But the occupants of the bar on this fateful night either were from different towns or cities than Marshalltown, weren't familiar with the legends, didn't care about the myths, or had been dragged there by friends or family that night or other nights. In Zaine's mind, it didn't matter which way you viewed it from, a barful of unsuspecting drunken people was just a hunting waiting to happen. So Zaine had carefully and selectively chosen his victim, this particular time it was a young sixteen year old girl named Rachael Miller, and had been watching her for a few weeks or months now.
So once he had carefullly planned out everything that would happen, he waited for the night Rachael would be out late, and she had chosen this particular and fateful night for her late-night outing to the local bar. The perfect and nearly once in a lifetime opportunity, Zaine had reasoned. So Rachael had apparantly gotten drunk, and went into the woman's bathroom to either put on makeup or throw up as a reaction to the overuse of alchohol. But her reasons, Zaine didn't care for. He hid in the shadows outside of the woman's bathroom for a few moments, watching Rachael carefully and planning out every one of his moves. But, that was almost ruined when Rachael saw Zaine's reflection behind her in the mirror. That was when the scream took place, but Zaine moved so swiftly and silenced her so quickly that it was almost unheard of. After he had ended her life for sure, he walked over to one of the bathroom stalls and removed the black bodybag he had stowed there earlier for future use. Taking out the knife he had hidden under his jacket, Zaine got to work silently and quickly cutting Rachael up into smaller and transportable pieces, which he soon put into the black bodybag. Of course, before he did this he carved out Rachael's lifeless eyes and ate them on the spot. After doing this and licking his lips, Zaine washed himself clean of her lifeblood and made his leave from the bathroom and the bar, by means of the back door he had entered through earlier. Of course, Zaine left his calling card in the bathroom as he usually did after a murder: the victim's bodyless, eyeless, and bloodied head in the room. This time he left it propped up against and inside the sink, with his initials carved into her forehead. They read, as always, "Z.W." No one but Zaine himself knew of his last name, not even the people who owned the apartment he now headed to after disembarking from the bar.
As he walked down the dark alley still, he recollected the many legends and myths that had emerged from his cannibalism and serial killings. Many, if not all, of them spoke of the "Teenage Terror's" ability to almost hypnotize his victims with his eyes. Yet, how would they know that, when the cannibal Zaine, as he revealed himself as a murderer and a cannibal, was never seen but by his vicitms who never lived to tell the tale. Despite this, the legend of his hypnotic eyes was completely true, though how people came to know that Zaine will never know or learn of. As he remembered this, Zaine laid the black bodybag against a building in the ally and took out a black and red blindfold, which he tied around and in front of his blood red and seemingly hypnotic eyes. His long black and red bangs covered over the blindfold, so that no one could even see it even if they had so good of vision that they could see in the darkness of the night. Letting his hair fall over the blindfold, Zaine picked up the black bodybag once again and started off back for his apartment, which was on the same South 23rd street as the bar, so it wouldn't be too far.
Even though there wouldn't be many people out walking or driving this late at night, especially not on such a desolate street in such a bad neighborhood as South 23rd street, to anyone who happened to be passing by it would look as if a teenage boy were just carrying an especially heavy and large bag back from the local Wal-Mart, wood stock, or any other place where he happened to be coming from. Even the blood from Rachael's cut up carcass wouldn't soak through the bag for about another fifteen minutes. So Zaine trudged along, not struggling the slightest under the weight from the bag. Soon he reached his abode on the dark street. There weren't very many other people in the apartment complex, due to infestations and foundation problems, and the other people who resided in the apartment weren't anywhere near Zaine, so he always had his privacy.
Zaine leaned the black bodybag once again against the building and reached into his black jacket pocket and fished out his apartment key, which he used to unlock the front door to the apartment. After doing this he once again picked up the black bodybag containing his dark and gruesome goods, and walked into the building, kicking closed the door quietly and locking it after him. Silently, so as not to alert the other residents of the apartment a ways away from him, Zaine walked up the stairs to his room, and unlocked it like he had the front door, and shutting it and bolting it and locking it in the same matter as many times as the locks would allow. Zaine walked into the living room area of his apartment room, where there was a couch, table, and television, and laid the bodybag down on against he side of the couch. As it laid there awkwardly, Zaine walked into the small kitchen area and got out a few large plates, forks, and knives. He also opened the refridgerator and got out a can of Pepsi. He kicked the door of the refridgerator closed and walked back into the living room area, where he sat the plates, forks, knives, and Pepsi can down on the table in a neat fashion.
Next, Zaine opened up the bodybag and began to get out its contents, which he laid out on the plates, raw of course. Reaching over to get a remote, Zaine flicked on the television, popped the tab on the can of Pepsi, and began to indulge in his meal as he watched the news.
End of Chapter 1
(( So I hope you liked. . .or at least were slightly interested in looking into my slighlty disturbed mind, tell me what you think of it! I know, it's very odd and dark, but I suppose a lot of people here may like it like I like dark stuff. So anyway, rate and tell me what you think of Zaine's odd beginning story. . .I may continue it based on what people think of it and if I feel like continuing it. ))
...that was disturbing, anyway I liked it keep it up