Chapter 40: Fragments #3 - Predetor
[Warning: Dark]
Headhunter's soliloquy:
How much do you know about psychopaths?
Is it based on the stereotypical adaptation you often see on the mainstream media? A mad serial killer ruthlessly murdering the first person they see? Or a rapist who does the deed with women, sometimes even children?
Of course. Your guess is right. Well, partially.
Mutated DNA surfaced as society evolved, creating psychopaths.
And on the top one percent of the spectrum, some are beyond evil.
In psychology, we call them 'Predators'.
Those examples I mentioned earlier? Yes, they are the predators.
Like it's a lion's nature to hunt the gazelle, to them, humans are nothing but prey. The only thing that matters to them is their impulse to kill. To hunt. To destroy.
They may seem normal on the surface. Average working citizens with a family.
Your co-worker who's always smiling, your caring neighbor who everyone loves, your favourite celebrity who's 'evidently' kind and generous despite garnering all the fame and fortune.
But if you let down your guard buying into their façade, I'd say you're naive.
Their nature of a chameleon blending in with their environment, their inherited instinct to hunt. No morality compass can stop them. 'The snakes in suits' will kill you the moment you think about befriending them.
In terms of insanity, they are the sharpest, smartest, most rational group of madmen there is.
And I...
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... was on the basement of an abandoned building, sitting in front of a dimly lit desk. The frustration after failing another subject made me furious.
"Haaaaaaaaah! You fucking insects!"
So much that I threw the damn cat mid-surgery. As a consequence, the wall got stained with its blood and brain matter.
Brains are connected through complex neural circuits. It's almost impossible to intercept those circuits... And I was trying to achieve that. To open up a path for the brain to accept the implant.
It was a very hard thing to accomplish. I had no support for my researches. Not from the clock tower, not from Dr. Ishrat, not from Anadolu, nobody!
I was literally on the verge of one of humanities greatest medical revolution, yet I wasn't getting the push that I beggingly needed.
I tried so many times to find an alternative path. Countless hours of research, countless failed operations. But no matter how much I tried, the damn neurons would always reject the implants.
"Not good. Not good enough. This. Is. Not. Enough!"
In a fit of rage, I punched the desk before throwing the chair.
How pathetic! Someone like me, venting my incompetence toward the caged animals.
"Calm down. Let's start over again."
I looked at the caged animals. There were all kinds of animals there. Dogs, Rabbits, Monkeys etc. I even made Eysan's cat go missing just to operate on it.
In terms of neural circuit, I used to believe that human brains didn't have that much different from an animal one. Scientists were allowed to experiment on animals during the old days for that reason. That was, until it was banned due of some animal loving freaks whining.
My main point is, after years of illegal experiments on animals, I can confidently say, that small difference of neural circuits in terms of species was stopping me from reaching my goals.
That was when I came to a serious realization... Something that would change the course of my life for good.
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December. The season of Winter.
Midnight, bus stop. The last bus probably left two hours ago, leaving the place completely isolated... not really.
I headed out for a walk, with a clear mindmap of what I needed to do.
'Found him.'
When I looked at the bus shed, I noticed the man. He was huddled in a corner of the bus stop near a small fire, trembling and singing gibberish.
The man was probably in his late fifties, with nothing but his clothes to wear, the bus stop being his bedroom. Because of his dirty ripped clothes, he was shaking uncontrollably. Even after wearing two layers of jacket, I felt cold. Now imagine what this poor soul was going through.
He looked so vulnerable. It was a miracle that he wasn't already dead due to hypothermia.
"Uncle? Hey uncle. Can you hear me?" with light and careful steps, I approached the man.
"Hyeh? Huh? Wha? Whaddya want kid?" the old man replied with a hoarse and rough voice.
As I walked toward him, my feet hit an empty bottle of what seemed like cheap alcohol. Not only was he trembling, his eyes were red too. On top of being cold, he most likely had a fever. And he was drinking too.
Seriously, what a miracle~
"You look hungry. I have some leftover meat in my house. I can give you some if you want.."
"Meat?" a bright smile took over his face as soon as I mentioned that word. "Yeah, sure! Let's go get some meat heh heh.. let's go.. let's get some meat."
I extended my arm at him. He then sluggishly grabbed my hand and pulled himself from the pavement. We stumbled down the street, his drunken steps being a stark contrast to my steady stride.
"Thanks for this, young'un... I haven't had anything but booze the last couple o' days." he uttered.
But the question is...
"If you have enough liras to buy alcohol, why not spend it on food?" I was genuinely curious about his thought process.
"Heh heh! Can't survive without the booze, young lad! It's the only darn thing that's keepin' this shitbag alive!" the old man exclaimed.
"Doesn't that mean you get less food?"
"Yeah... But I can't help it. Need somethin' to escape from reality, ya see?"
Hm?
"What are you escaping from?" I asked.
The man suddenly went silent. Instantly, I was met with a nervous gaze from that man. He was seemingly reminiscing about something. If I were to guess, I'd say that it was a devastating event for him, most likely his biggest reason for drinking every day so that he could forget that memory.
And here I was reopening his old wounds.
"Hm... I dunno if I wanna share it, boy. It's kinda personal." he replied.
That was to be expected. Perhaps I underestimated his trauma. All humans have something they want to hide, especially traumas. And for someone with such a sad background, I'm sure he had quite the story to tell.
But then again, I don't really care about all that. His hesitation may or may not be understandable to others, but as for me? I simply couldn't care less. I got curious, so I needed answers No matter what.
And besides, my curiosity was far more important than this disposable meatbag's discomfort.
"If you tell me, I'll give you an extra something." I proposed.
At first, the homeless man hesitated only to cave in shortly after.
"Ya really wanna know it that badly, huh?" The old man let out a sigh, his smile fading.
"I was like a normal person too y'know? I had a family and a place to call home. But things have a way of falling apart, y'know?'" he said, his voice filled with a hint of sadness.
I pretended to be interested and asked, "What happened to your family?"
Tears began to well up in his eyes as he recounted the details of that day. "I was out of the house that day for business. That was when our house caught on fire." He bit his lips. "My wife, Hayat. My loving wife and two beautiful children. They couldn't get out!"
I listened intently as he continued to tell me his sob story.
"A fire. All it took was a fire to burn everything away from my life." The man wiped his tears with the back of his hand. "That day I lost the very thing that made that house worth calling 'Home'."
We walked in silence for a few minutes until the man suddenly spoke again.
"Even after the fire, I actually had some money left for me. Just enough to start a new life. But guess what my dumbass did?" he chuckled in a self-deprecating manner.
Judging by the state he's currently at, there was only one answere.
"You got addicted to alcohol." I stared at the cheap alcohol bottle he was holding. The man nodded in affirmative.
"I fell into a deep depression and turned to alcohol to numb the pain. Before I knew it, I was homeless and alone," he said, his voice cracking with emotion.
"Hmm... I see,"
I kept walking beside him, listening to him pour his heart out to me, a complete stranger, about his past, the ups and downs of his life. It was almost surreal, being next to a man who I had intended to kill, while he shared his deepest pain with me.
As we walked, I couldn't help but marvel at how trusting he was. He had no idea that he was in the company of a killer, walking towards his death.
We eventually arrived at our destination, the abandoned building on the outskirts of the city. I led him inside, pretending to show him around, but in reality, I was leading him to his final resting place.
As we reached the basement floor I turned to face him. He looked at me in confusion, unable to comprehend why I had brought him here.
Let the fun begin...
"Wait, what the hell is that?" I frantically pointed toward a random spot behind him.
"Huh? Wha–"
"...."
Heh...
Haha...
Hahaha!!!
Like a mouse falling for the cheese trap, he also fell for that trick.
As soon as he looked back, I pulled out a fruit knife from my pocket and held it tightly in my hand. The man was too focused to notice the weapon.
I took a step closer to him, my apathy shielding me from any sense of remorse or guilt.
*Plop!
One swift motion and I plunged the knife deep into his stomach. His eyes widened with shock and pain as I twisted the knife deeper into his body.
"Auuuugghhhhh!!!!" the man let out a devilishly high pitched scream in pain.
He collapsed to the ground curling toward his stomach, his blood staining the dirty floor.
All I needed to kill him was a fruit knife. A simple cheap fruit knife. The knife that was not too sharp, simply enough to cut fruits. It would take a considerable amount of force to slice through, definitely not suitable to cut meat, unless you want your cuts to be slow and sickeningly rough.
Besides, it was cheap, and very easy to carry. So, a win-win for me.
He was panting and moaning in pain and pure agony. The mouth that hadn't tasted the comfort of food for days was now trembling. His sleep-deprived eyes filled with fear and betrayal were now staring at the impending monster that I was..
"Hah! Augh! Wha- Why?" he let out in confusion as he twitched around like a dying fish on the ground. Gasping for air, his eyes were begging for mercy.
But I was deaf to his pleas.
"Can you not see it?" I crouched down to meet his eyes, yielding the knife in front of him. "This is the 'thing' that you wanted."
The old homeless man stared at me in horror, as if he was staring at a Lovecraftian Cthulhu.
"P-please! Don't kill me! I don't wanna die! I don't wanna-"
I didn't let him finish the sentence. This time, the knife went through his neck. As soon as I pulled it back, his blood started spazzing out like a fountain. A rather artistic sight, I must say. I removed him from this unfair world full of agony and despair. Now he gets to meet his late family once more. Aren't I the kindest person?
"You should be thanking me. Because of me, you will get to see your dead family real soon." I told him with my warmest smile.
From that point on, I could only see the man continuously roll around as his soul slowly left the body. To my disappointment, his pathetic carcass went cold in about a minute. I went there to confirm whether or not he was part of the Isegye now.
"How boring..."
I thought there would be more resistance from him but, it seems he was lifeless till the very end. I immediately made a mental note that my next victim should be young and full of life force. If they are not able to resist, then that reduces the fun.
But oh boy, was I glad that I managed to bring him all the way here! It would've been a pain if I had to drag him all the way here. Not to mention the amount of evidence that would've produced. However, there was no need to worry about being caught on a CCTV camera in a rural area like this. It would take them another twenty-something years to even pass the order.
Killing was simple, but the aftermath was a real pain the back. My first kill was sloppy. And I remember being exhausted and out of breath because of it.
But the thrill and excitement I felt that day still linger in my mind.
From that day, began my reign over the entire state of Turkey.
From that day, the century began with the birth of a heinous serial killer. Because I am... Headhunter.
The Predator.