As I walk to my from door I see a package. I didn’t order anything so it couldn’t be mine. Maybe the mail man mistook it for someone else. I look on the package and it has a note saying, “ take this, I don’t care what you do with it but take this cursed item.” There was no signature. I take the box inside. I grab a knife and a bowl just in case something jumps out. I slowly cut the box open, no sign of life, no telling what it is. I peak through the crack of the box, and inside it’s dark, but I can make out an outline. I open the box up rapidly, ripping out all the foam and cardboard until I can see the item. Only this is not an ordinary item. I turn away, feeling my mouth fill with vomit as I get ready to throw up. Why the hell would someone send me that!!!!! I slowly look back to the box as my stomach is still wrenching. My hands shaking, body tightening, heart beating as rapid as a sprinter in a track race, beating once every millisecond. I look into the box and see the pale, cut up, dented, deformed head of my classmate, Issac. Missing an eye, half it’s teeth, and nose cut out, I stare in disbelief and star struck in what I’m looking at. I look next to the head, and there lies something just as bad as the head. The blood, and the missing eye, poked into the end of the knife the murdered one of my dearest friends. How has this happened? Who would do this? I hear a knock on the door. Who is this terrorizer?? Should I answer? No I should call the cops. I pick up my phone, but before I can hit dial the power goes out, disconnecting me from all data and internet. Damnit. I look to go hide, but then my phone rings… . What? How is that even possible? I decline the call. Without a breath it rings again. I answer this time, praying that it’s not what I think. I hear screaming, and slashing. It’s a recorded message, and I know what it is. I hear the scream, the horrid, deep scream of my friend as he gets repeatedly stabbed for over a minute, each stab causing the loss of more blood. I can hear Issac’s voice get scratchy, soft, and then silent. I hear the breathing of the murderer, and when the call ends I catch the sound of a door opening. Shit, the back door. I run to my room and hide. I listen for his footsteps, he gets closer. I watch the door to my room slowly open and… no one’s there. What? I stay where I’m at, and when the man jumps at me out of nowhere I…

I look at the man lying on the floor. I walk to him. Pale like Issac. I pick up the knife, which now has a new persons blood on it. I call the cops as soon as the power comes on and when they arrive I tell them the whole story.

They inform me that the man that had killed Issac was at the top of the most wanted at the police stations world wide. No man has killed as many people as he has. And yet here I was, his blood at my hands.