Killer

Is it ever right to kill someone? This is a dream I once had. It haunts me to this day.

 

“God damnit,” I breathed, tightening my grip on the back of the van as it went over another bump in the dirt path in the forest. I was pretty damn sure the path was designed for hiking, not driving. The trees were whizzing by at incredible speeds, close enough that I could almost feel them. My knuckles were already turning white due to the force with which I was holding onto the outside of the vehicle. I was having better luck holding on with my right hand since my left hand was also wrapped around a crowbar, but I had to get the back door of the van open somehow.

“Alright, I don’t have all the time in the world to do this,” I muttered to myself. I adjusted my left hand’s hold on the corner of the van a bit more. “God, please don’t let me screw this up,” I begged, and then let go with my right hand, quickly fumbling to get the door open. Thankfully, my flailing fingers managed to grab the handle. The door swung open insanely fast, however, and I almost lost my grip as I scrambled to get my right hand back where it was. Once my heart rate had kicked down another notch, I stuck my feet through the doorway and pulled myself inside, hurrying to close the door again.

I looked around. The back seat had been removed, and the mother and daughter I had seen kidnapped were latched in place to the walls of the van. I hissed quietly in fury. They said nothing, instead staring at me in hope. They needed a savior. Well, here I was – I didn’t jump onto the back of a speeding van for no reason.

The driver hadn’t responded at all to my dramatic and relatively loud entrance until now. “Looks like we have a new passenger,” he said, not turning until he’d finished speaking. When he did look back at me, he was smirking. He had a squarish face, a shaved head, and thin lips. He wasn’t particularly attractive. The expression on his face was easy to read – ‘Are you gonna hurt me, little girl?’

I was boiling with anger. It was apparent that he hadn’t seen the crowbar that I was still holding in my left hand. I’d pinned it to the floor. I decided, then, that I was going to take this guy out and get the mother and daughter the hell out of here.

I studied the path in front of us, waiting for it to straighten out or for there to be a clearing to minimize the chances of the victims being hurt. The driver remained calm as we winded on and on through hazardous, hilly forest. I grew impatient and aggravated, my rage at the kidnapper increasing all the time as we drove on.

Just when I was beginning to think I should strike now and hope for the best, we drove into a clearing in the woods. I smiled in excitement and held up the crowbar. It made a metallic grating sound as I pulled it off the hard van floor, and that caught the driver’s attention. When he turned to look at me, however, he wore the same smirking expression as before, not even phased by the crowbar – almost as if he expected I wouldn’t use it.

The fact that he wasn’t taking me seriously pushed me past my breaking limit. I brought the crowbar down on his face with all my might. The look on his face changed into complete and utter shock. I paid him little attention, striking him again and again, blind with rage. I watched as the life drained out of his eyes; they were beginning to glaze over. At a certain point, I knew he was dead. Still, I kept on hitting him, over and over, seemingly unable to stop.

Eventually, my arms started to shake, and I dropped the crowbar. Rational thinking flooded back to me, and I stared off into space, stunned by what I’d just done. I – I had just killed a man. Nothing else mattered anymore. Not the mother and daughter I had been trying to save, or how insanely angry I had been at him, or how much I could justify that he deserved death.

I could hear the world starting to slip away, and then there was darkness.

 

…

 

When I awoke, there were crowds all around outside the van. The latches in the back lay open and barren. I didn’t dare to look at the front.

Two men came to the open back doors of the van. They helped me out. I stood on shaky legs.

“You must be the one that saved that poor mother and her child,” said one of the men, smiling kindly at me.

I looked through him blankly, unable to reply in any way, shape, or form.

His expression turned somewhat uncomfortable, but he managed to adjust it after a moment. “I’ll make sure you receive recognition for your heroic acts,” he went on.

“There was nothing heroic about my actions,” I replied quietly. The man continued to speak, but all I could hear was silence.

Reviews

[OceanTropic]

Thats quite some dream. Well, unlike my own, your dream makes sense. Your rage overcame any rationality and you ended up killing a man for the sake of saving others. I would be pretty shaken too. I can't tell you exactly what it means, but maybe something along the lines of risk for freedom. The whole van thing also, its so typical these days, to kidnap in a white van. And the crowbar, your only weapon. It's scary to see someone die, even in your dreams, I have seen it also. Sometimes we do things automatically because we know its right, and its not until after we realize that what we have done has stripped us a bit from being our true selves.

[He@ther!]

wow what a dream! Its an engrossing story, though:) You did very well in writing it:)

[KEi]

You /dreamed/ this?
Good God, you're almost as messed up as me!

I liked the story though.







But if I'd had that dream, I think I'd have died of a heart attack.
O_O

[NCPanthersgurl]

What a dream! I can imagine why it would still haunt you though; dreams are so vivid sometimes. But dreams are also hard to reaccount, and I think you did a really good job. You definitley made it sound dream-like and yet phasing as reality. Nice job.

[[untitled]]

This is very good. I liked the ending. I think that really was great. I thought you did a great job of writing about this topic!