My First story

My Story Beginning
Two more days to live, two more days to breathe. That’s all I have left in this miserable world. Two day's. But then again after all the death and horror i have cause in my life it wont be so bad. I think the world rocked on its axis with rejoice when they caught me. Now I have 2 days to tell this sick twisted diseased world my story. I figured they would have Barbara Walters or some big shot from 60 Minutes, to tell my sick fucked up story. But not for me they send some rookie from New York to get my story. Maybe I scared them too much they couldn’t risk losing one of the good ones. But that’s not the point now I’m getting my story told. I guess they want answers and to know why I really killed all those people, I’m not sure there ready for the truth.
It was about 6am when the guard came to my cell. There I was sitting waiting for the door to open and them to walk me down the halls. My meeting was to be outside for one of my last requests before I was to get the lethal injection. We walked out of the prison across the yard and to an area with a few trees. Sitting there was a you I’d say maybe 24 year old woman wearing business suit and glasses hair back in a pony tail. Very slender, the type of woman you just want take home and do obscene things to. I sat down across from her, they had my feet cuffed to the chair legs and my hands cuffed to a bar in front. I guess the things I had done in my life scared this woman, she couldn’t look me in the eye’s or even want to be around me. She sat there uneasy and started to ask her first question. Her hands were shaking as she turned on her recorder and placed it on her briefcase. “Hello my name is Monica, my last name isn’t important you have no need to know it“. She said as she sat the recorder down, “ I will be asking you about your malicious murders you committed over the past 10 years”. I just stared at her speechless for a few seconds. She became uncomfortable and started to get antsy in her chair. I looked at her and said, “Are you uncomfortable because I killed all those people or that your 2 feet away from me? Don’t be afraid im shackled up, no reason to be afraid.” She looked at me took a deep breathe. “I just want my story to be told. And you want to tell it or you wouldn’t be here.” “I am not afraid of you, im afraid of what you were, and have done in your life. The fact that I am sitting across from the most hated person in the United States is what’s making me uncomfortable.” She moved around in her chair some more and calmed down. Like she had to get it out of her system. I looked at her and chuckled slightly. “Look at me. Does it look like I can harm anyone. Just don’t get close I might bite.” I chomped with my teeth and laughed. “Come on Lighten up I have 2 days to live. And you get to spend it with me.”

She shook her head as she asked me her first question, “Please state your name.” My name is “Anthony ‘The Malicious’ Joulet.” She fumbled around in her briefcase for some paper and a pen. “Ok Anthony, lets start from your first idea for the killings. When did you have the first urge to hurt or kill someone?” I look at her for a minute thinking, I can remember as far back as a young teen wanting to do harm to others, but never having the guts to do it. “It was when I was about 18, I was walking across a parking lot and seeing the girl I wanted to date kissing another guy. At that point rage filled my heart and head and all I could think about was doing harm to this guy. I went home and sat at my desk in my bedroom thinking of ways I could get him. I would write down ideas and keep them in a notebook I would carry around with me. But I never did anything to him, my anger passed and went in another direction.” I can see her writing her little hand off, I paused and asked. “Wont the recorder pick all this up?” She looked at me and said. “Please don’t stop with your story.” I just laughed and rambled on. “It was when I was 20, in late may early June 1996 when I really started to get the urge and rage in my heart. I was in Saint Louis and was driving down Broadway, stopped at a red light. I was looking in my middle console of my car when I looked up and 3 men had surrounded my car. They demanded I open my door and started pulling the handle. I didn’t wait for the light to turn green I just took off. I went back home and all I could think of is what I could have done and didn’t. Its what triggered my anger and rage.” She stopped writing and looked at me. “Were you mad at yourself or mad you didn’t do anything to stop the men from hurting other people?” I had to think about this, always wondered that myself. “I guess was a little of both, But as I drove home all I could think about was my notebook from when I was younger.” I paused and thought about the notebook for a minute and hate filled my heart again. All I could think about was killing the young reporter and the 2 guards. I could have done it so easily if I wasn’t in the chains, I could take her pen and open them both up. Ah but I have to clear my head, people must know my story. I shook off the rage and looked down at the ground for a minute. “Can you recall you first murder? Or give us an idea of what happened the weeks leading up to that?” I started thinking, I had never told anyone about the 4 Murders I did in August of 1996 I guess this would be best time if any. “I looked the your reporter in the eyes,” my eyes locked onto hers, “What if I told you there were some that were never figured out?” Some murders that never got reported cause no one cared the people were missing.” She looked shocked and looked back into her pad of paper and started writing. “It all started with the ‘almost’ car jacking. Its what really sent me over the edge. Rage over the years had built up inside of me and I couldn’t handle it anymore.” I paused for a minute and asked. “Do you want Graphic detail or just, a glossed over version of what really happened?”

She looked at me stunned, paused and said. “Give me the version most accurate to the actual events.” then she looked back down to her pad waiting to write. My mind started to race and it was like I was there again, I could hear the people’s screams and the moans of the dieing or almost dead. I looked down for a minute not sure whether to tell everything or, to save this woman’s mind. “The first time, wow its like breaking your cherry for killing someone,” I laughed but no one seen it very amusing. “It was about 4 am I was on my way to Chicago from Saint Louis, I stopped at a rest stop. There were three men and a woman. All speaking a foreign language, sounded like Russian or German I wasn’t sure. I walked into the bathroom; the three guys were standing at the sinks washing their faces as I walked up to the urinal. I got the feeling something was wrong an eerie feeling something isn’t right. I got done pissing and walked over to the sinks. Two of the men were on either side of me and one walked out of the stall behind me. Next thing you know I am being beaten, my head bashed off the sink. Dazed thrown into the stall door and punched in the stomach several times. And thrown down into the stall. They robbed me took all of my stuff except my car, everything I had was gone. Beaten and bruised I got up and cleaned the blood off my face, and walked out to my car. That night I drove it seemed for hundreds of miles. Hate just building up inside of me, they had put me over my breaking point. And they I seen it, like shining beacon. The car from the rest stop, in the parking lot of a cheap shitty 10-dollar a night motel. I drove past it at first, found a twenty-four hour five and dime store. There I bought a hunting knife, trash bags, wire ties and some socks. The old man in the store was deaf and blind as a bat, held a shotgun on me the whole time I walked around in the store. After I bought the stuff I doubled back down the shitty little motel. Parked about hundred yards or so down the road and walked back to the motel. It was around six am im guessing and the hotel was still quiet as a mouse. I watched and waited for about probably ten or fifteen minutes and seen one of the men and the woman walk out of the hotel room kissing. I knew if I had a chance it would have to be with them separated. The car pulled away from the motel and headed north down the highway. I waited until the car was out of sight then I approached the hotel room. Room number thirteen what a fitting room for people who had ran out of luck.” For the first time the reporter Monica, had looked up from her pad and I made eye contact with her. She had looked familiar, I don’t know if it was just coincidence or if I had really seen her from somewhere. Maybe at the trial, or maybe somewhere else in my life. When she noticed I was looking at her though she hurried and looked down at her notepad, and started writing again. I just shook it off and started with my story again. “You know right before I entered the room I actually had regret about what I was about to do. For a split second I thought, ‘what if these people have kids and a family. What if they are on the way to a wedding or a funeral, and I just caught there anguish or drunken stooper.’ But for some reason hate filled my heart and I had to do something before these people could hurt again. So I slowly crept up to the door turned the handle slowly the door was open for anyone to get into. I slowly opened the door and a thick fog of smoke came out of the room. I poked my head into the room, the two men were passed out of the bed. Beer bottles cigarettes littered the room, so I slowly walked in the room and closed and locked the door behind me. As I stood in the room looking at the two men, I could see all the people in my life that had done me wrong. I was going to make them pay for all the horrible shit in life that has happened to me.

CH2 The Reckoning
I stood at the end of the bed of one of the men, I would say he was about five foot and 7 inches tall. Black hair he had a good build, the type of guy you would never want to mess with on the street. They were both pretty passed out from the night before of partying, and im going to guess gang banging the woman that they were with from all the condoms on the floor. They were no problem tying up hell they didn’t even wake up when I kicked the trash can. One of them finally started to wake up, I quickly grabbed one of the socks I had bought and shoved it in his mouth and tied a shirt around his head. He noticed it wasn’t one of the people playing a cruel trick on him when, I jabbed the knife into the back of his thigh. Just wanted to see his face turn from fear to pain in the twist of a knife. After that happened, I think it was too loud and woke his friend up. He looked at me, and screamed something in whatever language he spoke. I couldn’t believe he yelled at me, hell im the one with the knife. So I jabbed it quickly into his chest and shoved a sock in his mouth. I could hear the air coming from his chest when I pulled the knife out that I had punctured his lung. Then all I could hear was crying. Both of these grown men were pouting like two little bitches. There were both lying on there back, naked bound and gagged. It wasn’t the prettiest sight in the world, two naked bald men tied up on a bed. I bet for you that might be exciting.” Trying to get a response from the reporter. She just looked up and said. “Not amusing.” and looked back down at her notepad. I thought to myself damn what a bitch. My last hours on earth and all she could do was amuse me a little bit. But oh well what do you expect from someone with a cushy desk job that gets paid to make up stories about people. Oh well, maybe one day she will get laid and get a sense of humor about things. I just looked at her and sighed, and started telling my story again. “The two men were screaming loud now, im going to guess begging me to stop. But I couldn’t understand them, I could only hear the terror in their cries when I took my knife and sliced down the spine of each of them. The cries turned into screams, then the screams turned into silence for at least one of them. Im guessing the man I stabbed in the lungs died from suffocation before he could have gotten tortured enough. As the other man noticed his friend had died. He started moving frantically around the bed as much as he could. Well least with his back split open he couldn’t move that much. Finally I ended his suffering and cut his spinal cord.

But I still had two loose ends to take care of. For this I had to wait. I went to the bathroom and washed my hand and rinsed my face off. I could hear the housekeepers walking room to room asking the they needed anything. I slowly opened the door and put the ‘Do not Disturb’ sign up. And closed it very slowly not to draw attention to the room. I looked on the nightstand, it was around seven thirty am. I didn’t know how long I would wait for the other man and woman to come back to the store. I sat there in a chair it seemed like and eternity looking at the clock, every minute seemed like it was my last. Seven forty five, then eight am roller up still no one. I thought to myself maybe I should get out now while I still can. But no that would let the other man who beat me for no reason and robbed me to go free from his crime. So I started going through there stuff trying to find all traces of me that I could find. On the table by the window I found my wallet all my credit cards and my money except for about twenty dollars. I put all the stuff back in my wallet where it belonged and put it in my pocket. The fact they stole my money to get them shit enraged me even more. Then I heard it, the sound of a car pulling up into the parking lot of the hotel. I ran across the room and looked out the window. It was them alright, so I unlocked the door again and pulled the covers over the two men as best I could. And ran back to behind the door, I could hear the man and woman laughing and flirting with each other outside the door. Then I heard only one set of footsteps walking away from the door. The door opened and the woman walked in and shut the door. She turned around and seen me standing there covered in blood and started to scream. I covered her mouth quickly as possible and grabbed a sock. Then I tied her up and put here in the bathroom and shut the door. I grabbed my knife and two or three ties and stood behind the door again. The woman was being extremely loud in the bathroom and I could hear her crying. Then I heard the loud footsteps of the man again coming from outside. He yelled something in his foreign tongue and then opened the door quickly and ran in. He seemed shocked when he ran in and found nothing. Then he kicked the bed and tried to wake up his companions. I believe he started to notice the huge blood spot on the comforter then he turned around. He seen me for a split second right before I plunged my knife into the base of his throat. As I pulled it out I could hear him gasping for air, and trying to keep his balance. He fell backwards onto the bed, Holding his throat. Looking into my eyes, im not sure if I blinked the whole time while he was dieing. All I could remember is the satisfaction of knowing that these 3 men would burn in hell for what they did to me. Then it clicked, im going to have to kill the woman. She knows my name and what I look like. This is when I realized I had messed up, I should have never let her live in the first place. She is just as bad as the people around her. She had the right to chose no to use my money to buy shit for themselves. She could have walked away and never made that decision. But she shouldn’t suffer like the other people. I walked over to the bathroom opened the door and pulled her up off the floor. I knew if I used the knife it would be a slow painful death so I grabbed her by the back of the head and rammed her head as hard as I could into the sink. But I was so filled with rage I couldn’t stop. I think after the fourth or fifth time I stopped and let her go, then drug her onto the floor in front of one of the beds.” I glanced at the reporter and I could see the terror in her face. The second she noticed I was looking at her she moved her eyes from me to the notepad, and started writing again. She seemed more mysterious to me that I was to her. Everyone knew what I had done, but there was something I couldn’t figure out about this woman, she obviously didn’t want to be here. But why the hell should I care, im finally getting some recognition for what I tried to do for the world. Or at least to make the US a better place to live.
“After I had finished, I stood back and looked over the room. I was proud of myself happy to stop this so no one else could ever feel what I felt there in the rest stop bathroom. Hoping and trying to make a difference in this fucked up world. Where the weak minded are shit on constantly and the media controls what we eat, sleep, wear, watch and how we live our lives. Always trying to impress people, make other people happy but ourselves. Thinking that as long as we can please everyone and make people happy that someway everything will be ok. Never taking a second look what is happening around us to stop and help some one who has fallen down. Always kicking them and stepping over them cause we don’t have enough ‘time’ to stop and wipe our own ass so we pay someone else to do that for us. So shit In the world like me getting assaulted was not a ‘Huge issue’ in the united states. So I figured I would take care of that for them. So after I killed these four people I vowed to help rid the world of the Assholes and the fucking jack off’s in the world. So I went into the bathroom and took a shower, found some of the deceased clothes and walked out of that hotel room a new man. I walked south away from the hotel back to my car, started it up and drove all the way to Chicago. I had never felt better in my life, I couldn’t stop smiling. Hell I could have died that day and would have never felt better in my life. I rented a motel and stayed there, was about two to three weeks until I found a job at a construction company doing bitch work for ten dollars an hour. Then one day I was sitting at the motel and on the news popped up a story. Arrests were made in the Grisly murder of three men and a woman. Murdered in a hotel outside of Chicago. I don’t think I could move for at least a good five minutes as the story was on the news. Evidently some roamer was looking for a place to stay and walked in the room and had the knife in hand as the hotel housekeepers walked in the room. I didn’t even think of me getting caught until that point. That there we a chance I could be put In jail for that.

For about two weeks after that I layed low only going to work then strait home. Until one night on my way home I stopped at a bar, was going to get a nice cold brew before heading home. As I walked in I could tell something just wasn’t right, the air was thick and not from the cigarette smoke.