I’m back!
There is no day like Friday the 13th to make a grand gruesome re-appearance. Be mindful of the days I have been away, the number is greater than eighty-four. Numbers are very important in our existence. Numbers are the only means of universal communication left for man-kind. We, the human inhabitants of the Earth have managed to mess everything else up; but numbers and the math associated with them are the keys to everything. Nevertheless, I did not sit behind my keyboard today to talk about math or numbers; I jotted that down just to give you something to bounce around in your head.
I suffered a painful epiphany while I was away. When I lost my daughter to suicide I chose to walk down a path that I assumed lead to a greater good, however; all I was actually doing was killing people who were utterly lost. People who were so lost that there was no possible way that they would ever find their way out of the darkness they were dwelling in without a loving helping hand. I thought I was helping some of these people, and there were a few that I was able to nudge in a direction that led them to self-salvation; all of the others, I murdered. I quit them when they needed me most. I failed them! I passed judgment on the ones I gave up on and I gave them what I thought they were searching for, death. I was wrong in the way I went about “saving” the people who became my victims. It was through the loss of a great friend that I had learned the error of my ways and it was time that I made some changes.
The first change I made was to make a vow not to ever kill another lost person. Instead I chose to walk an entirely different path than the one I was on before and it was not exactly the path of the greater good. Some time ago I had a very unusual set of suicidal prospects. I had two women that lived in the same town, both wanting to end their lives over a failed relationship with a man. As it turned out through my investigation both women were scorned by the same man, one the wife and the other his mistress. This man was the lowest form of excrement you can find in existence. Imagine a person so vile that he had pushed two women to the brink of suicide at the exact same moment in time. This event happened while I was in an emotional state of my own and it caused me to deviate from my normal pursuit of a subject. Instead I focused on the catalyst of their painful emotional problems and I investigated their man instead of them. What I found through this investigation was extremely disturbing. This man that both of these women shared had become a super nova of cruelty during his existence.
I untimely viciously murdered this despicable excuse of a human being more out of morbid curiosity than actually believing that it was the cure for my two prospects, however; in the aftermath of his death the cure was revealed to me and my course in life became forever altered. Forever masterful in my ways of bringing a person to their end, I chose the moment of death to coincide during a time that both women would have solid alibis. Neither woman would be held accountable for the dismantling of their former male companion. The wife of course would have to survive the full court press from the authorities which was standard procedure when a spouse has been murdered, but there was no doubt in my mind that she would walk away free to live out the remainder of her days free from scrutiny.
I tracked the aftermath of this life changing event more than I should have, but it was through my probing that I discovered how many other women this man had fouled over the years. He deserved more pain than he actually received, but he was already dead now and out of my reach from inflicting him any more suffering. I just had to believe that whatever suffering came to him in the afterlife would have to suffice.
The mold had been broken at this point and my path forever altered. The potential candidates that remained on my list were scrutinized under a different set of rules. I no longer fought to try to save them from themselves; instead I dove deeper into what had pushed them to that point to begin with. Every single prospect that I had murdered in the past had died by my hand with the belief that I was saving them from the stigma of suicide. In most of those cases, I still believe that it had been the right thing to do, but there are a few of them I am not so sure about now. I had believed that every single subject that had died by my hand would have eventually ended their own lives and that the people involved in their lives would have suffered loss regardless of how their loved one had actually died.
I have spent the past several months pouring over my previous victims lives and I have uncovered many truths that I had overlooked at the time. There were a few victimless suicidal people in my past endeavors, but the majority of them possessed a festering catalyst that had pushed them to the point of no return. With a few exceptions I have no intention of revisiting that which cannot be undone, however; there are some that will bleed and I will make certain that their suffering is worthy of the atrocities they have caused other persons before I allow them to die.
(Please remember that this blog is a work of fiction. I will post this disclaimer every seven days. It is also located in the permanent sidebar under NOTICE. ©2013 L. Wayne Gilbert)
There is no day like Friday the 13th to make a grand gruesome re-appearance. Be mindful of the days I have been away, the number is greater than eighty-four. Numbers are very important in our existence. Numbers are the only means of universal communication left for man-kind. We, the human inhabitants of the Earth have managed to mess everything else up; but numbers and the math associated with them are the keys to everything. Nevertheless, I did not sit behind my keyboard today to talk about math or numbers; I jotted that down just to give you something to bounce around in your head.
I suffered a painful epiphany while I was away. When I lost my daughter to suicide I chose to walk down a path that I assumed lead to a greater good, however; all I was actually doing was killing people who were utterly lost. People who were so lost that there was no possible way that they would ever find their way out of the darkness they were dwelling in without a loving helping hand. I thought I was helping some of these people, and there were a few that I was able to nudge in a direction that led them to self-salvation; all of the others, I murdered. I quit them when they needed me most. I failed them! I passed judgment on the ones I gave up on and I gave them what I thought they were searching for, death. I was wrong in the way I went about “saving” the people who became my victims. It was through the loss of a great friend that I had learned the error of my ways and it was time that I made some changes.
The first change I made was to make a vow not to ever kill another lost person. Instead I chose to walk an entirely different path than the one I was on before and it was not exactly the path of the greater good. Some time ago I had a very unusual set of suicidal prospects. I had two women that lived in the same town, both wanting to end their lives over a failed relationship with a man. As it turned out through my investigation both women were scorned by the same man, one the wife and the other his mistress. This man was the lowest form of excrement you can find in existence. Imagine a person so vile that he had pushed two women to the brink of suicide at the exact same moment in time. This event happened while I was in an emotional state of my own and it caused me to deviate from my normal pursuit of a subject. Instead I focused on the catalyst of their painful emotional problems and I investigated their man instead of them. What I found through this investigation was extremely disturbing. This man that both of these women shared had become a super nova of cruelty during his existence.
I untimely viciously murdered this despicable excuse of a human being more out of morbid curiosity than actually believing that it was the cure for my two prospects, however; in the aftermath of his death the cure was revealed to me and my course in life became forever altered. Forever masterful in my ways of bringing a person to their end, I chose the moment of death to coincide during a time that both women would have solid alibis. Neither woman would be held accountable for the dismantling of their former male companion. The wife of course would have to survive the full court press from the authorities which was standard procedure when a spouse has been murdered, but there was no doubt in my mind that she would walk away free to live out the remainder of her days free from scrutiny.
I tracked the aftermath of this life changing event more than I should have, but it was through my probing that I discovered how many other women this man had fouled over the years. He deserved more pain than he actually received, but he was already dead now and out of my reach from inflicting him any more suffering. I just had to believe that whatever suffering came to him in the afterlife would have to suffice.
The mold had been broken at this point and my path forever altered. The potential candidates that remained on my list were scrutinized under a different set of rules. I no longer fought to try to save them from themselves; instead I dove deeper into what had pushed them to that point to begin with. Every single prospect that I had murdered in the past had died by my hand with the belief that I was saving them from the stigma of suicide. In most of those cases, I still believe that it had been the right thing to do, but there are a few of them I am not so sure about now. I had believed that every single subject that had died by my hand would have eventually ended their own lives and that the people involved in their lives would have suffered loss regardless of how their loved one had actually died.
I have spent the past several months pouring over my previous victims lives and I have uncovered many truths that I had overlooked at the time. There were a few victimless suicidal people in my past endeavors, but the majority of them possessed a festering catalyst that had pushed them to the point of no return. With a few exceptions I have no intention of revisiting that which cannot be undone, however; there are some that will bleed and I will make certain that their suffering is worthy of the atrocities they have caused other persons before I allow them to die.
(Please remember that this blog is a work of fiction. I will post this disclaimer every seven days. It is also located in the permanent sidebar under NOTICE. ©2013 L. Wayne Gilbert)