I Didn't want to be the Karma Killer... (The Karma Killer Book 1) by Brandon Nathaniel Boodoosingh
Look, I didn’t want to be a serial killer.
I’m sure that's what they all say, something to that effect.
I actually wanted to be a superhero.
But unlike some people, I can’t fly by flinging myself across vast distances, throw around planets to play catch with my brother, cause the heat death of the universe with my eyes, push universes apart with my hands, none of that.
But the superhero dream is why I had my parents change my name to Karma when I was a kid. It was supposed to be my alias. I now realize that isn’t how it works, but I was a kid.
So, I was checking out items at a store, a knife, a rope, and some duct tape.
I narrowed my eyes as the man walked away.
“I’ll make sure you're paid extra boss, I’m leavin’ early,” I told my manager.
“Sure Karma! Thank you!” She said,
I followed the man to an alley, I hid behind a wall.
I’m so lucky it was springtime, a few months earlier and I’d be freezing.
The man stood for two hours.
I almost just gouged my eyes out just to have something to do.
No, wait that'd hurt… a lot.
I had trained myself to function with 4 hours of sleep, just to game with my overseas companions, this was nothing.
But when gaming, I had games, right now I was just stalking this weirdo.
Then, finally, at a few minutes past 6 in the evening, a woman walked into view, she was noticeably intoxicated and proceeded to puke on the floor.
The man approached the woman and grabbed her arm.
"What are you doing? Let go of my arm!" The woman shrieked in a slurred tone.
I stared, wanting to intervene, but I was too terrified to act.
The woman pushed the man away and started yelling.
The man swung the knife at her.
She stumbled away.
A look of realization crosses her face.
She punched the man in the mouth.
She dug her nails into his right arm.
Then… he stabbed the woman.
I was still too terrified to act.
The man stabbed her three times before I yelled to scare him.
“Hey!” I yelled.
“Who the fuck are you?” He asked me.
“I’m gonna-- stop you.” I stuttered.
He swung the knife at me.
“You-- you really suck at this.” I was still stuttering.
The man pursed his lips and lunged at me.
I smacked his right arm where the woman had clawed at him.
He dropped the knife.
I kicked him in the chest.
“Wait-- You’re that Leto boy. Son of those billionaires-” The man said.
“Your momma-- how many surgeries look like that? She looks like one of the dumb broads I’d kill and-- Oh man what I would give to cut her wide open--”
In a moment of rage I grabbed his knife and slashed open his neck.
“Don’t talk about my mom,” I told him.
I stared at him.
“That’s sweet... you’re a momma's boy.” He choked out calmly.
Then he looked into my eyes, the old man seems to freak out a bit-- his eyes
widened, he squirmed erratically, trying to speak, but only gurgling came out, his head shook back and forth.
After a few moments, he stopped squirming.
I’d realized what I had done.
I didn’t plan to kill him, I just meant to scare him or something.
He was a serial killer!
I noticed the woman wasn’t moving either.
She was dead, judging from all the blood, she… bled out, obviously.
I heard a scream.
It was my boss.
I realized that it would look like I killed the woman too.
“Wait boss, no-- I--”
My boss pulled out her phone.
There was a slight noise.
My boss fell to the floor.
She walked into view with her silenced pistol.
She saw all of it.
Officially she was hired by my parents to watch over me.
But she’s more of my Aunt.
More of my best friend.
She’s a really nice, African American lady.
She has some sorta inhuman training because I’ve never seen someone her size move so fast, jump so high, and have so much stamina.
In the heat of the moment, I forgot about her.
She can also be very quiet.
“I’ve got you, kiddo. Don't worry, we'll handle this.” Jamie told me.
“What?" I asked.
“I was watching the whole time, but I thought you would just beat the man down and become a hero like you wished to be, and if there was any chance you'd get hurt, I had my gun trained on the man and would have killed him. I hoped being a hero would cheer you up from what happened at school, so I took a chance, my job and life-- or you being sad.”
I should have been more…
Scared of myself for killing someone?
Scared that I’d get caught?
Scared that I wasn’t scared?
She instructed me to follow her.
I was silent.
With Jamie’s guiding eye, we used some of the store’s supplies to clean the blood off the floor.
I made a few taps on my watch.
And the cameras went to static.
For the whole day.
The man had been buying the same stuff every day for weeks.
Several women have disappeared on this block every night that he's been coming in.
No bodies were found.
All from my city.
Where the buildings which reach as high as the Tower of Babel would have been, keep most of the streets in the dark with their shadows.
For that reason, we’ll call the city Darklind.
Where everyone is either greasy rich or bare bottom poor.
Where murders, rapists, thieves, and muggers are commonplace roaches and rats who breed like rabbits or possums and love the night like bats.
But, did that make what I did right?
If he was a monster who stalked and killed women?
But if he’s a monster, what does that make me?
Why was I playing judge jury and executioner?
I realized I was in a car.
She was driving.
I broke my silence.
"Jamie, this isn't the way home."