People always knew about the myth. The person wandering around the local streets of the area.
Children would be told the story to know what awaits for them out there. Even adults used to be afraid of Him.
He would appear in all white clothes. Probably it being the tragic irony of the pureness of the colour and the black painted heart inside his chest.
He had no emotion other than being happy, and, even if he was a normal being it would still be weird because without the negative feelings, well are you still a human? But the happiness was just a trick, a trap to make the clueless victims believe that he was as pure and innocent as his appearance made him be.
In simple words he was a criminal.
A predator catching its prey.
The title given to him as being the ‘Monster’ really suited him and that’s because of the things he did to the poor things caught by him.
He would lure the victims in by drinking with them in a bar or by singing to kids or there could be other methods not known to the public.
Once the victim was caught he would tie them down to a chair and torture them. Whipping all over their naked body, hot wax falling over the sore and red spots, pulling fingernails off and cutting each of the fingers in a torturing slow speed. Pulling hair from the roots aggressively and many more brutal inhuman things.
You can tell that the number of people who got killed by him were really unlucky as they died in the worst way possible without having done something bad to even deserve that kind of treatment.
No-one really knows how many people were killed by that monster just because yes, many were discovered but people believe there have been more victims at this story apart from the ones known to the villagers.
Only one victim ever made it out and only because he was so drunk that in the duration of the torture he fell down. Silly right? He was not cautious and the girl was lucky to have found a way to make it out alive.
As he fell down, along with him, the scissors he was stabbing her with, the victim, fell as well and really close especially so she took it as a chance to finally after 3 days of punishment make it to freedom.
You can only imagine the feeling of happiness and hope that bursted inside her chest as she tried reaching for the scissors ever so slowly so as not to wake him up.
Finally, she had the weapon of freedom in her hands.
She cut the rope, after many tries, that was tied with on her hands because as said before, he was so drunk that he forgot to tie her ankles too. She silently and gently took the keys from his neck and made it out, running and running as fast as her tired and traumatised body let her go only to pass out once she was crawling on the pavement in front of her house due to the loss of blood.
It was midday to afternoon so some people were out for their after lunch walks and saw her laying down which of course, was weird for a girl to be laying down on the side of the street.
The neighbours were all in a state of panic and called her parents while others rushed to call an ambulance to try and save her while some who were experienced in such things examined her for any wounds that could be treated while the ambulance was getting there. She was hospitalised for three weeks as the wounds were indeed severe and while she was recovering the police were examining the case until she was okay to be questioned about the incident.
After those three weeks she was finally in a state ready to reply to any questions asked so she let the police interrogate her to find out more about the man.
“I was walking home from school on Frid- yeah it was Friday.”
Two police officers were in the room with her as the 15 year old girl explained the story to them.
“It was really hot and I wanted a drink, and what could have I done? I saw a man selling lemonade on the side of the street and stopped to get a glass.”
The police officer in front of her nodded in response. “He was singing something like la la la all the time. He was smiling, a wide smile, it was almost reaching his ears. And his eyes were almost non existent as the smile reached his eyes making them disappear. But there was something wrong about his face. It was unsettling.”
“It almost felt like he was a doll but could speak and move like a human. He didn’t take a break from smiling. I don’t even remember him blinking “
The police officers looked at her intrigued,even the one scribbling down notes from what the girl said looked up when she said those things.
Silence erupted until the police officer in the back told her to continue.
“Once I got my glass I drank it whole and gave the glass bottle back to him but I felt weird after thanking him. My knees became weaker with each step I took and my eyes started dropping until I passed out just two meters away from his stand. I saw him packing his things and coming towards me saying “la la oops” and that’s all I remember from that time.”
“Next thing I remember is that I was being tortured in the chair I woke up in. I was even gagged because I was screaming a lot. He was whipping me and he took a knife to cut through my skin. After that I believe that I passed out again because of the shock.”
“The next days were similar, just torture until I escaped. Thank god I escaped.”
she was sobbing at this point that her heart beat increased and nurses came running in.
The police officers thanked her after wishing her a fast recovery and left her to investigate her case along with other similar ones.
Many people were tortured that way and found in lakes or in front of their houses.
Ironic isn’t it?
The story of him became popular as ‘la la oops’.
Only that girl ever went out of that hell hole and that’s because of his fault.
The crime was perfect, no DNA was found on her body or anywhere. Even the place that she stopped to get the lemonade from was now gone and there was no sign that it ever had been there.
No one knew where he lived, no one ever caught him getting inside a house.
He was perfect. He had perfected everything. Except from that crime. . . .
The plan was always perfect. The kidnapping, the torturing, the killing, the throwing away the body.
But there was no perfect plan for a victim’s escape.
You see, he was flawless, apart from his little flaw being his diary.
The history behind him, his birth, his education, his skills, his improvement. The techniques he was taught to use to torture people, the always smiling habit as well, the perfection behind every crime. Every name of every victim ever being caught and punished for no reason by him and more things were written down.
And how was it found? Haha, he wasn’t as clever in such things. It was just shoved under his bed. Easy to reach and easy to spot from the spot the victims were always sat.
Maybe it was a trap to made them believe he was not smart enough and maybe it worked maybe it didn’t. We will never figure out because he won’t say. He hasn’t even said that in his very diary.
The girl had seen that and being the girl she always was, always cautious, she had figured out there was something under there and she had a good feeling about it. And she was correct. She grabbed it on her way out and got lucky.
Everything was written down on there.
It didn’t take much time for the police to get to the place as it was mentioned inside the book.
He didn’t live far away from the local neighbourhood. It was just an isolated house but not suspicious in any way.
The girl would pass from that street to go to school and she would see a lovely couple in their 50’s on the balcony drinking their morning coffee. She even greeted them. And they greeted back.
Hahaha, who would have thought the lovely old couple would have created such a monster? It is true though. The elderly couple seemed like good people, coming from heaven but they were instead coming from hell.
The human was made to obey its creators.
The white clothes indeed were ironic, showing the exact opposite of his birth place.
The girl was the last victim written in his book and now I am typing this while hiding in the bathroom. It was written down that if the diary is found then the crimes will continue, and far more brutal.
I am the next victim, I was helping the police to figure everything out as I was a friend of the girl. I have been here for a few days now and I don’t know when they will be here, even though I doubt it because he changed location.
I am staring at the mirror and can not recognise myself anymore. The skin of my legs is gone on some parts. My nails were pulled out and the screen gets bloody as I am typing this. He will get in here soon, I can hear him banging the door outside while singing this la la la song and there’s no window for me to leave.
Please help me. Please tell the police to come to the underground station of the town to find me.
Oh!!! Hahhaha!!! La la la oops!