Post by logan on Nov 8, 2010 4:27:21 GMT -5
logan gage ambrose.
twenty seven. resident. serial killer . ian somerhalder.[/font][/i]
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everything can change in the blink of an eye, this was something i learnt that night five years ago. the night i lost it all. i was sitting there, contemplating my future, contemplating a career as i bounced my beautiful two year old daughter on my knee, her mother was in the kitchen baking up a storm, i could smell the ginger bread cookies in the oven, and the roast was coming along nicely. josephine was giggling like mad, every time she bounced her brown curls would leap with her, bright blue eyes gazed up at her father with so much love and admiration i never even knew was possible. christmas was fast approaching, we'd set up the christmas tree as a family, and were eagerly awaiting the night santa would come and deliver a large pile of presents to the excited little girl. i could hear erin in the kitchen, singing softly to her favourite christmas carol, and i set josephine down to play with some of the wrapping paper she'd been so attached to when she found it on top of one of the boxes we'd just wrapped. i slipped into the kitchen, my arms moving easily around her waist and i drew her body back against mine, my lips seeking the back of her neck as i hummed lightly, it was going to be the perfect christmas, snow had fallen outside and after building snowmen all day, we were getting tired, and eager to see what the next week would bring for us. i was so happy back then, my little family was perfect, i cherished them so much, and the love i held for both was astounding to see. even to me now, as i sit back and write my memoirs, expecting someone to stumble upon these, trying to figure out what happened to the perfect family man. aged twenty two, my life was complete, my wife was beautiful, my daughter was perfect and i had nothing else to ask for, except the possibility of a lifetime with the two of them, endless and absolutely perfect.
i can remember that night like it was just yesterday, every single little thing that happened that day is glued in my mind, because the next night things changed forever. like a normal thursday night i returned from work, six thirty, expecting dinner on the table, expecting to come home to my beautiful girls, bathe josephine and spend the evening curled up with my stunning wife on the couch, watching all her favourite shows, because thats just the husband i was. doting, and putting the two before myself. i parked my car in the driveway, a smile had spread over my lips as i glanced at myself in the rear-view and brushed my fingers lightly through my hair, musing and teasing it just the way erin liked it. grabbing the roses from the passenger seat i headed up to the door. the first thing i'd noticed was that it was ajar, and voices echoed from the halls, thumps and screams before it all went quiet and the laboured breathing of whoever was inside broke out. did you kill her? it wasn't a voice i recognised, and my brow pinched together in question, confused i gulped back a lump in my throat and pushed the door open. the first thing that caught my eye was the flash of red streaking the hallway walls, splattered over like some kind of modern artwork, dripping down the blank canvas and to the floor, where blood seemed to drag down the hallway and into the living room. setting the roses down quietly, lightening sparked outside behind me and my eyes flashed a dangerous blue, reaching for the baseball bat beside the door and clenched it in my fists, taking small hesitant steps towards the people in the house, the intruders that had left their filth all through my families home.
my pink tongue ran over my lips and my eyes widened, hand slackening around the bat, i was shaking, quivering, my eyes filled with tears as i took in the picture before me. my daughters body was mangled, covered in blood, her perfect curls stained a permanent red, and blood bloomed around her head, staining the carpet. and my wife was still cowering against the wall, bleeding profusely through a stab wound in her neck, blood dripping from between her fingers. her eyes widened as she took me in, standing in the door, the storm echoing around me, i felt like a mad man, and thats how i must've looked. my pupils had dilated, turning my eyes pitch black and i swung for dear life, right into the first mans head. a thump and a groan, and he sunk to his knees as again i drove it into the mans head, holding my bat pointed at the other man, i growled in annoyance, quivering in disgust, my eyes closed momentarily and flashed back open as the power went out. i heard the cry from erin, and the confused grunt from the man before me as i dropped the bat and reached into the top drawer of the shelving unit and pulled out my fathers hunting knife. i never thought to this day that i would end up like my father, abusive and deadly, but things change and it seems i have as well.
my fingers closed around the hilt and i stepped forward, lashing out with the blade, striking his side as lightening flashed. i could hear the cries of my beautiful wife as she slunk towards our daughters dead body, but my mind was too fucked up to even care in that moment. this guy was intruding, putting my family in danger, and he needed to pay. i grabbed the back of his head, ripping it back and drove the knife into his throat, once, twice and three times before the body fell limp at my feet. as the power flickered back on, i looked down upon the massacred bodies and trembled as my eyes moved back over to my family. my wife clutching my daughters body as the life drained from between her fingers. i fell to my knees, blood dripping down my face and to the floor around me, and crawled, the knife slicing against my hand , streaking the floor and staining the hilt - that must've been the biggest mistake i'd made. i pulled my daughters lifeless body from my wifes arms, feeling around harshly for a pulse, bruising her tender skin, as blood continued to drip from a wound at the back of her head, a bullet wound. i looked to my wife, gasping for air and pulled her close against my body, our blood mingling as i sobbed, holding them both close against my chest, screaming out for help, but no one could ever have heard me.
hours later, police had tapped the house off as an official crime scene and i sat in the back of the police car with handcuffs around my wrists as they took me in for immediate questioning, noting i was the only survivor they obviously had they're speculations. looking back now, i know i treated the scene wrong, i'd left finger prints and blood everywhere, i'd left bruises on my own daughter and that was probably what pushed them to incarcerate me. but i can never forgive those men for thinking i would be so heartless to have killed my own daughter and wife. i don't know how long the case lasted, or how long they questioned me and my motives, they didn't believe a word i said - even the lawyer hired for my case doubted my innocence, it was at that point in time i lost all respect for humanity and the law. they could judge so easily without even having a clue about what had even gone on that night, they ignored the roses i'd brought home, and the tears i'd cried, they put it all to a psychotic turn due to my fathers misbehaviour when i was a child. you see, my father had murdered my mother, the most loving figure i'd had in my life - he'd abused my sister and myself on numerous occasions, so of course the police judged my case on that alone. because of that abuse, i must've been an abusive man. no one took into account the loving relationship i had with my wife, apart from a few domestic arguments everything was always perfect between the two of us, the cast was mine... or at least i believed until that mallet was brought down and the judge announced me as guilty, informing me that i was a vicious and malicious man, that there was no reason i should have taken four lives that night. there was no doubt in her mind that i should be placed on death row, and that was where i was sent.
if you've ever been to jail, you would know, it is definitely not the most pleasant place to be. it's hard and dark, the people are scary and vicious. i was scared for my life, although i knew it would end eventually. i'd become that man they all pointed out in there, i'd become a psychotic man. so, i befriended another, someone in my own boat, whose story should be told from him and not i. kieran samuels, as i'm sure you know him, one of the most feared men in the world, my brother, my best friend and a man i have come to love over the years, someone who never turned his back on me, despite the fights and threats, the attempts from both. we'd become comrades in prison, eager to get out of there and show the world just who they were fucking with. four years later, and a lot of planning we finally had worked out how we would escape. with some help from my lovely sister felicia, we had organised it all, down to the smallest details. there was to be a riot that day, that we would of course. kieran had ducked out from his daily excercise routine to join those few in one of the workshops, of course he'd got a little over excited as he'd grabbed one man by the head and drove a drill into his brain - the guy was dead in an instant and as the uproar began, and men started filtering into the room he'd slipped out to join me in my cell. we'd been feeding information out to felicia for years, and she knew everything that went on inside that hell hole.
i fingered a set of keys eagerly from my mattress and pushed up to my feet, a smirk fell over my lips and my brows wagged in amusement lets go i murmured and nodded to the gate at the end of the hall, grabbing the shanks we'd put together in secrecy, between workshops and work outs and stepped out past the dead guard who was slumped against the wall, eyes bugging out of his head as blood poured from his neck still. we stepped over the slumped body and unlocked the gate, knowing most of the officers would be down in the workshop, we had our perfect chance to escape - of course the place was on lock down so some areas were harder to slip through, but we managed, and although we ended up killing probably around thirty men together that night it was well worth it. felicia waited out the back in an unmarked truck, and we climbed into the bed, dragged the canvas over our heads and out of the way as she sped out of the gate. it seemed as though we were under there for hours, and for a while we believed no one had noticed the two death row inmates had seemingly disappeared from under peoples noses we were soon proven wrong as we approached the border to tennessee. i could hear the sirens behind us and kieran and i glanced at each other and then to the shot guns sitting in the back, loaded and ready, in case of moments like this. felicia took the first shot, hanging out the drivers window, using her knees to keep the wheel straight as she shot through the window of one of the cars, swerving to miss an oncoming truck, who lost his load all over the road, smashing right into a group of cars, but two more slipped through. grabbing our guns, we crept forward to the end of the bed, and pushed down the gate, aiming and firing till our black hearts were content.
cars scattered over the road, bodies hanging out of cars that had swerved and crashed into trees. my breathing slowed momentarily as i saw we swerved off the main highway, confused i spun around pushing the canvas off and stalked up to the end of the bed of the truck, and leaned against the shot out window, resting on my knees. the forest surrounded us, drowning out the sound of the sirens coming up the road, she followed a steady road at a fast pace. glancing back at me, i saw the excitement in her eyes and smirked to myself, glancing back to kieran and chuckled darkly, eyes darkening in delight as i saw the car that was just ahead. felicia slowed to a stop and told us to get out, and we happily obliged, letting her drive off, knowing she'd be back shortly. she must've looped the truck back, and leapt out, we noticed as we drove past the crashed truck in the ravine just alongside the highway, cop cars lined the bridge, and we both somehow managed to hide in the trunk as we crept over the bridge and sped off into the sunset, much like something you'd see at the end of a movie - we felt victorious, although we knew they wouldn't find bodies in the truck, they'd know we were still alive, but the trail would have died.
we drove for hours through tennessee, changing cars periodically, felicia really had thought everything out, and each time we left a car, we made sure to blow it up or destroy it in some fashion. but finally we arrived at out safe house in nashville, right on the outskirts of town and out of the way nestled in the woods, and just off the main road. hard to get to with a car, but fine if you were walking. it was a meagre little shack, falling apart around us and we didn't stay long, a few months at least before we'd managed to secure a nicer location, the one we're living in now. although felicia has departed on her way, we know she'll be back soon. i sit now, by the fire, writing as i watch my latest victim roll around on the floor, fire eating at his skin, his cries of agony pure pleasure to my ears, kieran is laughing whole heartedly, prodding him with his knife, enjoying the spectacle, blood lust in his face. i know we are find now, safe for the time being although the bodies we leave behind are constant trails to where we are, i know we are okay. i watch the news still, waiting for the day to hear they've captured my sister and on that day, i will repay her for all she has done for me, and for kieran. we've decided tonight, our methods much change, we've decided we must no longer use our real names, and i will from here out be known as gage, while he shall be known as samuel. of course, this is for the best for both of us.
i ponder, whether or not i will be able to return to that carefree family life i so desire to have back, and although i shall never love another as i loved erin, i know the possibility is always there. i can imagine the torment the whole ordeal must've caused her family, and i wonder now if they are hoping never to see my face again - i want to pay them a visit one day, tell them my story. maybe they'll read these memoirs and decide my fate, maybe they will tell me whether or not i'm an innocent man and right all the wrongs i have made since that dreaded day. i can only hope someone sees the innocence in my life and forgives me for all the wrongs i have made. i hope one day i will be able to find another who can love me as endlessly as she did, i hope i can find someone who will treat me a she did, and i hope one day to have another child to protect from the monsters that lurk around every corner. but for now, i rest this pen, i rest my head and i let the future be just that, the future, a gift waiting to be unravelled and devoured. a gift that could quite possibly be the end of my life, and the beginning of a new one. something that could change the beast i've become for eternity.
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[/color]jenners. twenty. austen, kayla, bailey, sofia.[/font][/i][/center]