The first time I had a conversation with the killer was when I was nine years old. I was home when he emerged from my parents room. He was pretty close to my age and said his name was Cain. I asked who he was and he said he was a friend of my parents. According to him, him and my parents were pretty close.
Although I liked him, he also scared me. So did the smell that started to waft around the room when I first saw Him. It was like a hospital but it wasn’t a medical smell. It was just the smell of despair. I would later learn that that’s the smell of blood.
He left the room when the smell started to dissipate. Curious I went to my parents room and the sight I found still traumatizes me today. My parents bodies laid lifeless and bleeding on there bed. I screamed so loud the neighbors heard and came running. They called the police and after an investigation. I was sent to an orphanage.
Curious enough they asked me questions about how my parents treated me. If they had ever hurt me. I assured them that my parents loved me and never lay a finger on me, the bruises on my body came from just me being clumsy when I played. It was so awful that they were bad mouthing my parents while there bodies lay in a morgue somewhere.
The second time I met Cain, was when I was nineteen. This time he emerged from my girlfriends room in the apartment we shared while we were still in college. I recognized him immediately, although he had also grown. I screamed and shouted that I would kill him for what he did to my parents, not realizing that the smell of fresh blood was once again wafting around the room. Again, like a empty hospital with no one to save the dying person.
He was confused at my anger and told me he had helped me. He couldn’t bear to hear me scream as my parent hurt me again. However he was insane. My parents had never laid a finger on me.
He left soon after without me ever trying to stop him because I needed to get to my girlfriends room to check on her. Again I found the same sight as I did all those years ago. My girlfriend lying in a pool of blood on her bed.
This time their was a more in depth investigation and the police did a search of the entire city for Cain, from the description I had given. There was no sign of him anywhere.
Curiously this time they also questioned me. They had received information that I had an argument with my girlfriend before her death. However there was no such argument. According to the report from a nosy neighbor I had called her a whore and told her I knew about all the guys.
This enraged me and screamed at the detective. I loved her and I would never say those things, my girlfriend was lying in a morgue, how dare they question me like this.
The third time I saw the killer, it was as I was leaving my office for the day. I noticed the smell of blood wafting immediately and pulled out a pair of scissors from my drawer. Like clockwork he emerged from my bosses office. Smiling from cheek to cheek.
He spoke to me again and holding the scissors behind my back I asked him why he kept doing this to me. Knowing full well that my boss was dead in the other room. Again he made it clear that he was helping me. He couldn’t see me being continually hurt by my abusive parents or cheating girlfriend and now he couldn’t stand me being fired by my boss.
I briefly thought he was insane, until I realized all my stuff was already packed into a box on my desk. Cain left again, I didn’t stop him but when the police arrived I knew they would be able too. They could pull the footage from the office cameras and start a nation wide search for him.
As I scribble the last part of my statement onto the page in the waiting room, I hear a commotion outside. A large number of officers have gathered outside and there talking quite loudly. Out of the noise I hear the unmistakable words of one officer. “There was no one else on the tape”.
That of course is impossible because Cain was there. Gripping the paper tightly I cut myself on it and a little bit of blood drips out.
The smell of it wafts around the room and as I look into the mirror I see Cain again.