Sunday, November 24, 2013

Short Story: Killer's Mind by Jason Helford



Jason Helford is the author of From a Killer's Mind. He has written a new short story that takes place in the same world as From a Killer's Mind. It is a very chilling short story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. More information about his book and about Jason is at the end of the post. 

Morrigan

Short Story From a Killer's Mind

                “Oh, yes, yes, yes,” said the grizzled, little man, patting a spot next to him on the bench he was sitting on, just outside of the light cast from the basement window.  “Sit, sit, I have a book to tell you about.  A book about the best of us.  Yes, yes, yes, the best, the very best…”

                His voice trailed off as he twitched and glanced around the dim room, seemingly looking everywhere at once.  Every time the thin, feeble rays of the waning sun shining through the basement window caught his face, the man’s eyes glinted like a predator staring out from the edge of the dark, his lined countenance fierce and mercurial.  The rhythmic pat-pat-pat of his hand sounded hurried and impatient on the old wood, thumping out an anxious rhythm.  His clothes showed wear, riddled with holes and frayed threads.  The threads stuck out to make his outline look indistinct and animalistic in the shadowed basement.

                “John was the best of us.  Yes, yes, undeniable,” he muttered quickly, his words coming so fast that they melded into a long, nervous sound.  “His numbers were undeniable, and once the book, From a Killer’s Mind, came out, we learned his techniques.  His care.  His love…love…loved what he did, yes, yes!  Did it alone, though?  I don’t know.  The book makes excuses, tells tales, but John is larger than any one man’s jealousy.  You read it and decide.  I know I’m alone…mostly.  Mostly alone, alone alone…until I’m not…”

                He cackled and jumped off of his seat, and rummaged through some boxes and loose items lying around in piles, his bare feet slapping on the basement floor.  He grabbed what looked to be a hairy bit of leather from a small box in a low shelf under the window, causing a waft of stale, faintly rotten-smelling air to enter the room with it.  His hands were a blur, petting and stroking the thing, turning it over in his hands again and again as he talked and fidgeted while staring out the window.

                “John’s story is my story.  I want his story.  Mine,” muttered the man, looking back from the window with intensity in his eyes.  “His Mama and Papa, they loved him fiercely.  All his little friends, too.  They had to love him to help him in the end.  The sweet end.  You don’t think I can take as many as him?!  I’m careful, too!  I like to keep my friends, too!  See!”

                The little man ran around the room, pushing and pulling odd sacks hanging from the ceiling sporadically throughout the basement, causing the chains they were hanging from to squeal on their rusty hooks.  They looked like punching bags, but whenever he hit them, sending them swinging to and fro, they sloshed and splashed like half-filled water bladders.  He picked up a screwdriver from a table in the corner and punched a hole in one bag, laughing and running faster as the room filled with a putrid stench and the sound of a thick, gelatinous stream splashing on the floor.

                “John killed, but so do I,” yelled the wide-eyed man, pushing the bags back and forth like some sick child’s game.  “He had his techniques, but so do I!  So do I.  Good book, I learned a lot, but he’s the best.  The best.  I want to be the…”

                Suddenly, he stopped, and ran to the window.  His face lit up as he peered into the lengthening afternoon shadows to see a young man walking alone between his house and the forest, carrying a basketball.

                “Ahhhh, I see you,” he whispered with a grinning snarl, tapping on the window until the young man stopped, looked, and began to cautiously walk over to the window to investigate the sound.  “I seeeeee youuuuuuuuu…”

                “Shhhhhh!” he snapped as he dipped lower in the windowsill, looking back into the room and holding up his hand.  “You will scare him away.  Mine.  Mine.  Need to catch up to John.  And I will.  I will.  In time.  Buy the book!  From a Killer’s Mind.  You will learn.  Enjoy John.  Now go!”


Jason Helford bio photo.JPGJohn has been a successful serial killer for his entire adult life, committed to his craft without detection or disruption.  He’s spent years perfecting his process and meticulously planning out each kill, honing his abilities to horrible heights; however, when one kill doesn’t go as planned, his confidence is shattered, and his dark life starts down an even darker road, to either his salvation…or his ultimate downfall.  John finds his private sanctum infiltrated by chaotic characters from the most unlikely of places, putting him through an existential crisis of the soul.  As John loses control, his true crucible begins.

From a Killer’s Mind, the debut novel of writer Jason Helford, is a mind-bending, scary, and emotionally honest trip through the life of a serial killer, laying bare the killer’s soul for all readers to see.  The remarkable twist at the core of this novel is something that will leave you open-mouthed, shocked, and completely hooked, until the very last page.








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