Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Cain · **03-01-2015, 05:47 PM**

Cain Said:Sane is making me angry.

Oh yes, he is. You see, I have tried numerous times to contact him. I've called his cell. I've called his mom too, but she didn't know who the fuck I am. I digress. Surely my tag team partner won't let me down, right? If he knows what is good for him, he won't. I swear to God above that if he causes us to get screwed, then I will stop at nothing to make his life a living hell. Believe it.

You see, my career lately has gotten better. Despite my previous loss to Goat Face Killa, my momentum has been rising. I can feel it, but I wonder if anyone can see what I see? Is their vision as clear as mine, or are they as blind as a bat? Most of my opponents are. They go into our match expecting an easy win and a simple fight. Every fight I have ever been in has been extremely complex.

Noone understands.

I know they ridicule me. I can hear their laughter from behind my back, because they would never do so to my face. Do you smell that? It's fear. Your senses aren't as keen to that as mine are. I am only human, but in the same token, society has made me a monster. I hate people. My dear, sweet Attie though, she treats me like the King I am.

Make no mistake about it. I am a King now. I am the King of a little place called the Darkest Corners of Your Nightmares. That place in your nightmares where you throw punches but your adversary still assaults you, or that place where you find yourself falling forever toward a Lake of Fire. A place where your destruction is imminent and my triumph is predestined.

So what do I see when I see my own partner sitting there like a lump on a whore's tit?

Cowardice.

Cowardice is weakness, and completely eliminates the will to win. Some may call it an opinion but I call it a fact of life. A truth of war. In war, when you become idle, you die.

I will not die. No longer shall I be held down, because I know now that if I am to succeed in the business I have to reach down deep. I have to find that part of me that murders and kills. Id. Id has the killer instinct...

...I have that killer instinct!

"I don't even know you! Why are you doing this?!"

His size alone was enough to make a man's blood run cold, but his appearance was accented by his long black hair and pale complexion. The man tied into the chair watched the psychopath as he paced around his chair like a giant cat on two legs. He knew this monstrous individual. He knew him from somewhere, but could not put his finger on it. The giant stopped in front of him.

"Oh, so you don't remember me detective?"

"Remember you? Hell, I don't even know you!"

"I'm disappointed, Edward. You know me, yet you act as if we have never met." The monstrous individual rubbed his chin, thinking. He then held his sharpened fingernail up as if he'd had a thought. "May twenty second, two thousand nine."

"Huh?"

Detective Edward Rollins sat there in his chair, unable to move. That date struck a nerve. He thought long and hard about it, looking for the answers the monster wanted him to find so desperately...

May 22nd, 2010

That night was a warm one. Ten years after young Cain had made his first kill, the man had been through hundreds of therapy sessions. He'd spoken to so many different psychologists and each time he'd told them he'd do better, a lie which he'd become accustomed to telling. The genius psychopath had fooled the doctors into thinking his outbursts of violent rage were getting better.

As he sat there in his living room, he was quiet. The now eighteen year old Cain watched the news, and heard all the reports of high school kids killing each other. He'd heard about the corruption in the government. The world was going down a spiral of dirty brown shit in his personal opinion and he sat there thinking that maybe this world really would be better off dead.

Twisted minds lead to twisted things. Cain stood from the couch and stalked slowly down the hallway toward his mother's room. He could smell the Jasmine in the air as he neared the doorway to his mother's room, and could hear water gently splashing as he got closer. He knew it was time for her nightly bubble bath.

Nine o'clock, every night. It was like clockwork.

He slowly opened the door and walked quietly into the master bedroom of the house, cringing at the angelic decor of the room. The psychotic teenage slowly scanned the arena, dark brown eyes looking soulless. He had no remorse for what he wanted to do. He slowly opened the door of the bathroom, then watched his mother cover herself with a start.

"Cain! I'm not dressed!"

His facial expression never changing, his eyes empty. Devoid of any real emotion was this beast who stared at his mother in her natural state. Alexandra Arkham just frowned.

"..."

"Cain? Honey, are you okay?"

"..."

Id Said:Do it. Do it Cain. Save her from this terrible world. Do it.

Cain walked forward without hesitation, eliciting a frightened scream from his nude, bathing mother. She stood up to run, but the large man shoved his mother back into the wall, wrapping his big paws around her throat. He then began slamming her back first into the wall, her black hair becoming caked with blood as the back of her skull hit the porcelain tub. He wasn't finished though. This violent man grabbed his mother by the hair and pulled her forward into the bowl of the toilet, her skull shattering just as the porcelain bowl did.

He stared down at his dead mother calmly, then turned and washed his hands. Leaving her laying there broken, battered, and dead he walked into the living room and picked up the Panasonic cordless phone. He dialed the number, the operator answering quickly.

"Nine one one, what's your emergency?"

"I just murdered my mother."

He stated this rather non-chalantly then listened silently as the operator repeated the same questions. "Is this a prank? Where do you live?

Click.

Present Day

"You were the one they sent to my house that night, Detective Collins. You came, you drew your gun on me...I beat the living hell out if you. I destroyed that house using your body as my weapon, and just when I was about to kill you like the others...." Cain raised his leather vest. Under it were many scars from bullet holes, but only one which seemingly pierced his heart. "...you gave me this. But....hehe...you didn't kill me, did you?"

"Cain Fuckin' Arkham..."

"Mmmm hmm, still alive. Even after you sent me to that fucking hellhole!"

Collins sneered.

"You're fucking lucky you didn't get the death penalty, you fucking monster!"

"Oh, but you knew that he wouldn't allow that to happen."

Just then, Cain held out his wrist and flashed a tattoo.

Collins narrowed his eyes as he stared at the tattoo of the carrion bird. He'd seen that very same tattoo before, but once again his memories felt blurry. It was like he was there when all this happened, but he wasn't there.

He felt himself become uneasy as Cain began sharpening a long blade retrieved from his belt.

"Oh come on, Arkham...you can't seriously be thinking about killing me...I'm part of the reason you got the insanity plea! Your father begged me! Please!"

"You have a family. You're sorry. Please don't kill you. I've heard it all. Well, Eddie, I..." suddenly, his phone rang just as he got finished sharpening his blade. He smiled suddenly, demeanor changing. "Hey baby. I miss you tooooo. Well yea, I was just finishing up some...uh...promo work. Okay, okay. Fine. I love you too, I'll be home soon."

"Hah! Pussy!"

Cain just growled at his once arch nemesis, walking over to him and replacing the blood stained gag.

"I'll deal with you later, fucker."

-To Be Continued-

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Finally The True Story of Cain
Author	Message