I'm a Warrior: Part One of The Slut Strangler Series

The moans and screams travel through the only vent in our little house. They keep me up at night. I just wish they would stop. The squeals, they make me want to hurdle myself out of a window. There's going to be a big day at school tomorrow, all the kids line up and speak their names and read the best poem they've ever written. Mine is about a little dog that loses his way in a dark forest but finds his way back home thanks to a trail of decaying bodies and rotting flesh. I won't be able to read it if I fall asleep in class, the teacher will give me an F. She's almost a bigger whore than my sister, actually. The rumors spread like wildfire about her. She slept with the principal to get her job and gave the janitor head so he would clean her house and watch her children while she went out on dates or as I like to call them, Slutty Sex Nights.

My sister continues to moan in the room next to me. She brings home a new boy every night. This one just so happens to be her cousin. Girls do anything for attention, they really do. Dad was sent away to an insane asylum after he "sexually abused" Cathy, when she was seducing the poor man. I guess us men aren't so innocent either, we give in so easy. I would never give in to Mrs. Roberts. That's right, Mrs. You heard it correctly. She's married and still sleeps with the whole school twice a day. She's never touched me. Maybe it's because I'm ugly. The dark circles under my eyes have been growing and growing ever since Cathy started having sex. She was raped in a school bathroom two years ago, her being 13 and the boy being 17. I think she likes the idea of rape. She owns handcuffs and gags and whips, I'm not sure if that's rape material though. I'm only 12, I don't know much.

My name is Harry. I was born in Kentucky but had to move all the way to Vancouver when daddy was sent away. Mom has been looking after us on her own for two years now. Her name is Kendra. She never spends time with us, her job at the strip club must be more important than us kids. She's there every night and asleep every day. When she's not asleep or working, she's high on meth.

Cathy refuses to shut up. It's four in the morning and her moans are getting louder as her sex adventure progresses. Poor girl; 16 and already a whore. She must follow after her mother.

I finally fall asleep and wake up to the joyful noise of my alarm clock two hours later. Cathy is asleep in bed and Ron is on the couch watching porn. I grab my backpack, open the door, and slam it behind me, waking the bitch up, hopefully.

As usual, the bus is already half way down the road so I grab my rusted black bike and take off for school.

"Good morning, class." says Mrs. Roberts in a sweet, hushed tone. She bends over in front of me exposing her cleavage. "Can you hand me that ruler, babe?" She never calls me babe. Ever. Something’s fishy here and I really hope it's her loose cunt. If it's not, the teacher spotted her next student to sexually harass.

I walk down the halls after class and get shoved against lockers by the three Pickled Pussies. That's what I call them, at least. Those are the three virgins at school who always talk about how tight and wet they are. They throw all the parties and provide the weed, the alcohol, and the heroin. They always give lap dances and hold reserved bedrooms so the boys can feel their breasts. The leader of the group, Heaven invited me once. She has C cups. They're really big but saggy when she removes the push-up bra. She told me to lick them so I did. It didn't really taste like anything, but she was making all these weird sounds. Was she trying to turn me on or something? If so, it wasn't working. She sounded like a dying horse. I may have shrunk two inches. When she left for the bathroom, I jumped out the window. She's hated me since. The other two girls; I don't know them too well. I've heard a lot about them though. They like tongue kissing.

"Harry, hand me that fork please." My friend Aaron is the only person I can really depend on. He takes me to his house when Cathy has more than one guy over. It's never pretty when that happens. I hand him the fork and we set our lunch trays on the gum-infested tables.

"Anything new with that slut sis of yours?" he asks.

"There was this guy, Ron. He actually stayed at the house all night, just watching porn. I guess my sister's not as good as she makes herself out to be."

After school, I go straight home only to see Ron passed out on the couch with his shlong hanging out. Cathy walks up to me and glares into my eyes.

"What's this, Harry?" She holds up a piece of paper. It's the notes I was passing to Aaron at school. All it talks about is how much of a whore Cathy is.

"Harry... Harry... What do you think Mom would say about this? Why don't you go to your room. I'll meet you in there in a few minutes."

It's useless arguing with her. She always wins. I run into my room, lock the door, shut the windows, and wait patiently for my sister to arrive with her punishment. I sprawl out on the bed with tears. Rage slowly builds inside of me as I think about how horrifyingly disgusting my life is. All these whores, my whore mother, whore sister, whore teacher, everybody just wants to fuck...

"Harry, open up please." I ignore her the first time she knocks, hoping to calm down before I get punished. "Harry, open up I said!" She's banging on the door now; almost screaming.

I slowly walk over to the door in fear, scared she might break the door down, trapping me under the broken wood. I throw the door open and run to my bed. She walks in with a smirk. Her makeup is freshly done and she smells of lavender. She begins removing her shirt. I look away immediately, careful not to stare and get turned to stone by her massive breasts.

"Try not to get your slut tit milk all over me." I say. She screams with anger.

"That's it, no more Ms. Nice girl." She digs her knees into my chest, tying my arms to my backboard. Her breasts hang in my face. If my arms were free, I might just punch them. She turns around and ties my feet down, then gags me. The same gag that was used on Ron, possibly. She removes more of her clothes and sits on me. I close my eyes to block out any nightmares that are sure to come. I feel her hands rub against my body, dripping with sweat and fear. She grips my shirt and rips it from my chest. The breeze blows by my sweaty torso, making my nipples harden. She grabs and squeezes, hard... I try not to scream, if I show any pain she'll do it harder. I struggle to remove the tie on my left arm. If I free myself, I can grab the bat I have next to my bed and hit her with it. Maybe then I can escape.

The tie loosens as I maneuver my hand around the knot. Suddenly, Cathy removes my gag and shoves her disease infested tongue down my throat. My hand is freed and I grab the bat. I take one swing and she's out cold. Her mouth: wide open in mine. Her saliva runs down my face as I untie my other limbs. Finally, my arms are free and the blood circulates through them once more. I shove the cow off of me and she hits the floor with a thud. I notice a section of hair that turned red on her. She's bleeding. I killed my sister. My only sibling: dead. Why do I not feel regret? Guilt? Sympathy? With all the times she's sexually abused me in the past I understand. I know that what I did was right. It felt good to be free. I untie my legs and walk into the living room with my blood covered bat. I pass many mirrors and notice all the smeared red on my face. I like the way it looks. I'm a warrior.

I notice Ron on the couch, his hand down his pants, head phones on his ears, and eyes closed. Now's my chance. I walk into the kitchen and grab the biggest knife I can find.

"Ronny!" I shout. He looks up, my knife raised above my head. I thrust it into his stomach and twist. He's gurgling blood as I slowly but surely slice through his guts. Intestines fall to the ground, steaming and melting to the cheap plastic carpet. He stares at me, blood running down his chin and through the couch. I give a large smile as I look at my masterpiece. His mangled body lay on the cum stained couch, completely unaware of the life it's just lost. The front door swings open and Aaron walks in.

"Hey, man. I brought you some-" He stares at the sight. The blood, the guts, the knife in my hand, the image rots his brain to the core. He drops the bags he was carrying and backs away slowly. His mouth open, eyes wide; just staring at the murder I've committed. Now I see what I should have been scared of: Getting caught.

I walk toward my friend and tell him that I can explain. He looks from the body, to me, and back again.

"I- I don't understand."

"There's nothing to understand, Aaron. I was just really tired of my sister's shit. That's all." I smile my innocent smile and walk toward him. "Will you tell?"

"What?"

"Will you tell on me? I can't go to prison, Aaron. I won't survive there. I'll be raped, that's the last thing I need done to me." I giggle realizing how ironic that statement was. "Don't leave me... You can be my partner! My partner in crime! We'll go and kill Mrs. Roberts together!"

He runs out the door and I throw my knife. I don't know why I throw it, just reflex I guess. I couldn't go to jail. I just couldn't risk him telling anyone. A new part of me was born. I became the man I'm supposed to be. The whore murderer. Wait, maybe a catchier title would be better.. Hmmm.... The slut strangler? That's it. That's better. I'm the slut strangler.

Mom walks through the door with one eye open, one eye closed. She doesn't even register the bodies on the floor in her house. She goes to her room, grumbling to herself about work. She grabs the bottle of vodka from under her pillow and lights a cigarette.

"Hey, mom. How was work?" I say.

"It was…stupid. I only made 60 dollars."

Annoyed with her response, I take the cigarette out of her hand.

"Wha?" She says, looking up at me with one eye. "What's that for, Gary?"

I take the cigarette and thrust it into her eye. She screams with pain. I laugh my insane laugh and dig deeper with the ash. She's trying so hard to escape the pain when she could have stopped it from the beginning. All she had to do was love. Go to rehab. Do SOMETHING for Christ’s sake. It's okay though; I take the kitchen knife and stab the same eye, puncturing the brain, leaving her motionless. Again, I look at my work. My magnificent work. My life is better without these people. I should have done this before. Before dad was sent away. He could have helped me. Helped me kill all these whores!

I escape the house of corpses and walk onto the street. Blood stains my white T-shirt but I don't care. I'm free from them. Those evil cunts. Free! But now it's my time to free the others. To free the world from these monstrous sluts we call women. I set out to the nearest whore house where I begin my very first pornographic murder spree. It surely won't be the last. Time for me to kill all of the whores in this dreadful world. One Cathy at a time…

The Tricker