CitPC Chapter V, part 1.
I must forewarn you that the final 2 Chapters are going to leave you slightly shaken, or slightly upset, or slightly disappointed. Whichever way, people will get hurt. People will go mad. People will get killed. Oh yeah, I took the liberty of 'borrowing' some Cannibal Corpse lyrics for this bit. Quite fitting, don't you think? Cannibal? Corpse? *evil snigger*
Anyway, on with the story!
Rating: R, for cursing, bloodshed, and lots of Eric.
Chapter V: No Pity For The Chaste, part 1.
Monday, February 14th. Time: Unknown. Place: Unknown.
So, it’s all come down to this. Another successful murder under your belt.
Go on… Kill that idling bastard. Make him suffer.
Those demons inside your head - What are they saying? What are they planning on making you do?
Mutilate them. You don’t need them anymore. Let them beg for mercy.
Why would you kill them? Where’s the pleasure in that?
I know you love the taste of human flesh.
Once you fall asleep, you won’t be able to control them. They’ll feast on you’re emotions. You’re demonic, misanthropic self will return to murder again.
Go on then, Mr Hyde. Let them taste the wrath of your jagged blade.
Oh, I see. It’s like the Jekyll and Hyde case all over again is it?
What will you feast on tonight, eh? Leg of Gilliam? Idle Stew? The Palin Platter?
Listen to your true conscience. Stop this charade. Give yourself up. What would you rather do: Continue to slay the innocent ones, or turn yourself in to the authorities? It’s up to you.
Well? Go on then. Stop lying there dreaming, and let us go find us some grub! We don’t have all night you know. Once you awaken, it’ll be too late.
“Snake… is coming to find you,” sang the voice of a killer. “Scarred by the bastards - I will kill you. The Demons love it when I do…”
Monday, February 14th. 11:49pm, somewhere in London.
A well-to-do old man came out a front door and leant up against some railings, leading up the stairs to his little north London flat. He lit his cigar and took a long drag from it. The streets were quiet, usual of Thursday nights. It was chilly, although not bitterly cold. He gazed up at the sparkling moon above, whilst the stars danced around it. The man grinned to himself, and sighed happily. He looked back down and saw someone running past him. The running man then tripped and tumbled to the hard concrete ground. The old man rolled his eyes and sniggered to himself. He casually descended the steps to the flat and approached the fallen being.
Typical drunks. He thought.
Once there, he crouched down and made an effort to help him back up. But something was wrong with this man. He was mumbling words to himself and shaking. Shaking in pure terror. Was he really drunk?
“Hey laddie. What’s the matter?” asked the old man, whom we shall call ‘Bill’ for the remainder of this part.
The shaking man suddenly glanced up and shot Bill a traumatized look.
Hey, isn’t it that guy off the TV? Eric Idle? Bill asked himself as he stared at him.
“MY WIFE’S BEEN MURDERED!” Eric howled in fear.
He came up and clutched onto Bill’s shirt for dear life, his pitiful eyes staring longingly at him.
“That Snake guy! He’ll be after me next, w-w-won’t he? WON’T HE?”
Bill flinched slightly at Eric’s loud tone of voice.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT,” Eric continued to mutter, retracting his gaze from the old man, “I can’t die now. I’m too young to die. Eric can’t die.”
Crikey, is this boy going barmy or what? Thought Bill, still in a state of shock.
“I can’t go home, coz I know he’ll be there. Waiting, waiting to wrap his coils around me.”
Bill gently placed his hands around Eric’s shoulders, and said in a soft voice:
“Okay, alright, alright, just… just calm down--”
“How d’ya expect ME to calm down when there’s a mad murderer AFTER ME?!” Eric snapped.
He gasped and suddenly let go of Bill’s shirt.
“I bet you’re the Snake,” He whispered.
“No I am not!” Bill snapped in frustration.
Eric panicked, and began to back off.
“You’re Snake! Get away from me!”
“I’m not some cannibalistic murderer, you deranged looney. I’m only trying to help!”
Bill tried to reason with him, but Eric wasn’t having any of it. He aggressively pushed the man away, turned round and sped off into the distance. Bill sighed and went on after him. Eric quickly shot round a street corner and continued running. He turned his head round to see if this supposed killer was chasing him. Nope, no one in sight. Mr Paranoid Idle did this at much the wrong time, as the moment he pulled his head back round, his leg caught the side of a large postbox and he slipped up again and plummeted flat on his face. Eric let out a pained groan. A man strolling down the street opposite him saw this and quickly crossed the road. He knelt down and offered a hand to help Eric up.
“Oh thanks,” Eric muttered, outstretching his arm and letting the man pull him up.
When suddenly, without warning the man clutched Eric’s collar tightly and shoved him hard against a wall. Eric could hardly take his gaze off of him. A dark hood concealed his face, with only two wide, deadly eyes scowling at him. How he craved to sink his teeth into this chump’s neck.
“L-l-look, what do you want from me? I’ll give you anything! Please just let me go!” Eric begged the strange figure.
The quiet man dragged Eric over to a parked Fiat 500 and pinned him against it. He then took both hands and started to bind them around Eric’s neck. Eric struggled to escape this man’s tight grasp upon his throat. He was beginning to suffocate. Eric made loud choking noises and waggled about to release himself from the man. However, the man remained stone silent throughout Eric’s frantic actions. Eric stopped his struggle for the moment only when he felt the man’s grasp loosening. He looked at the man strangely.
Why’s he stopped? Is he planning something? Oh God help me!
“Look, can’t we sort this out?! Want do you want from me?!” Eric begged, panting heavily.
The man uttered no word.
“Tell me dammit!” Eric spat.
Snake… wants your life.
Eric widened his eyes as he felt something drive through his stomach. It then thrusted itself back out. Eric glanced down and saw a dark liquid empty out his stomach and onto the ground, gradually forming a large pool around his feet. Eric opened his mouth, and could only let out a silent scream. His face creased up and he fell to his knees. He then immediately collapsed to the floor, and curled up into a ball, whilst holding his stomach and withering in agony. Snake stood and watched Eric, now a quivering wreck, moaning quietly - About to breathe his last breath. Snake was reaching into his coat pocket for his trademark meat cleaver when he suddenly paused. He could hear a familiar sound approaching him, getting nearer and nearer.
NEE NAW! NEE NAW! the sound went.
Bill had seen Snake grab hold of Eric, and thinking the worst, went back to his flat and immediately called the police. Snake quickly rose up and – as most smart criminals do - made a quick getaway. Moments later, police cars screeched to a halt and several officers leapt out of them. They all ran round wildly to see where the culprit had ran off to. They’d arrived too late. Yet again, the Snake had escaped.
“Crap! Bloody useless!” swore DI Simpson, stamping his feet with rage.
Seconds later, an ambulance arrived at the scene and rushed towards Eric. He simply lay there, motionless and cold, his clothes and mangled hair completely sodden in the thick fluid.
“Quick, get ‘im to the hospital! He could die at any minute!” said one of the nurses, as they transferred him onto a stretcher then into the ambulance…
Tuesday, February 15th. 00:09am. Place: Unknown.
Fantastic work. Another merciless killing to add to the collection. Shame we weren’t able to feast on any juicy meat. Never mind… there’s always tomorrow, eh? Nudge, Nudge. Ahahaha…!
How could you? You’ve murdered yet another innocent. I beg of you to stop… NOW! Because you will get caught. There’s no use of hiding forever…forevereverevereveer--
“ARHHH! OH MY GOD!” shouted a voice, panting heavily to calm itself down.
“Woah, hey what’s wrong?” said another voice.
“What… what a horrible dream.”
“What did you dream of?”
“I dreamt that these… these voices were talking… in my head, telling me to do things. Am I going MAD?!”
“Did you eat cheese last night or something?” Voice 2 asked, “Just go back to sleep already.”
“Our darkest needs, we satiate. Bathe-- Holy shit!”
“What the hell did you just say?” Voice 2 asked, slightly irate.
“Huh? Urm… n-nothing… G-g-goodnight,” Voice 1 replied nervously.
Our darkest needs, we satiate. Bathe in blood, wallow in bile. Tear out the heart… Victim… defiled…
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