It was a bloody, gory, crimson mess. Alfred’s father’s corpse laid in the library, in his favorite chair, chopped and sliced in several places, nothing more than a heap of bloody flesh. His mother laid dead in the master bedroom, her body severed into six pieces, head, arms, legs, and torso.
His brother, he’d made sure to make his death the slowest, lay in shreds upon his bed. Bits of his legs, arms, torso, even chunks of his head were spread all over his comforter and sheets. Alfred decided to be merciful enough to his sister, Alyssa, and gave her a sweet, painless, swift slice across her neck artery.
Alfred couldn’t see his youngest sibling, Katelyn, having associated herself with the rest of the family in scheming to kill someone, so he used his dart gun, knocked her out, and placed her on the steps of a church with a note asking the church’s nuns to care for her.
“Forgive me Katey, but it was needed. This class system that society has set up is far too corrupt. I need to change things, and I can’t have that kind of danger be put on you. I love you.” He said, then picked up his suitcase with his harbinger of death and set off down the familiar route to Jacob’s house.
When he arrived at the place he once called home, Jacob was sitting on the porch, staring off into space. His eyes were stained and red from tears and he was shaking slightly.
“Sir, hello.” Alfred said slowly, making Jacob look up at him, then at the case he held.
“A-Alfred? Wh-why’re you here?” Jacob asked quietly, his voice quivering as he spoke.
“I came to say I am sorry for everything that’s happened, and I’m especially sorry about Mel… it was all my fault. But I won’t plague your life with my presence anymore, so I guess I also came to say goodbye.” Alfred said, staring Jacob in the eye, then turned and began to walk away.
“Oh, and thank you, sir. Your kindness to me is something I’ll never forget.” He said, looking back at the shaking man in the porch steps. Then he turned back and continued walking.
Everyone he knew was out of the way, and was now out of danger. As Alfred walked on, his heart turned to stone as all the warm emotions he had for someone was left behind with that person.
Alfred made his way to the old, falling apart building that he would make his new place of residence and where he’d plan his next moves. Once inside, he began cleaning up his room, removing the fallen beams of rotten wood, took out the mildew and bug infested mattress, and swept all the dirt, grime, wood, and bug carcasses out of the room.
Stolen novel; please report.
Next, Alfred scoured a garbage heap that was owned by an older gentleman, who’d sell the junk he collected to junk artists and mechanics, and bartered for a new mattress, a pair of jumper cables, and a slightly beat up cork board. He then went behind an electronic appliance warehouse and found a discarded mini fridge and a microwave with its door panel attached by only a single screw.
After tidying up his room and positioning the cork board on the wall, he hooked up the mini fridge, fixed up the microwave, plugged it in, and discovered that the whole building had no electricity running through the circuits.
Taking the jumper cables, Alfred went to the roof and hooked his building’s wires to the electrical wires on the neighboring building, then went downstairs and tested the circuit box. On came the lights and he heard his microwave beep with electrical power now running in it.
“Sorry to steal power, but I’m going to need it too.” He said as he went back to his room. The light hanging from the ceiling was working, and Alfred silently celebrated that. Finding working bulbs in dumpsters is hard, and he doubted he’d be able to haggle to get some from anybody.
“Now,” he said as he began to plan out his situation and what he’d do in the future. “Time to change the world.”
Alfred went out and collected any physical information on the high class tycoons and business kings who ruled the class system in New York, stole a box of thumbtacks from a small office supply store, and began pinning all his gathered intelligence on everyone in the high class to his cork board.
Mr. Alexander King, CEO of King Insurance Company, was caught last week by the NYPD running a whore house that basically enslaved the men and women unlucky enough to end up working there. But he bought off the police captain, and all evidence and documents of the incident vanished within a week.
Miss. Lucy Swanson, founder of America First Footwear, was caught embezzling millions from her company out of her employee’s paychecks and tried to frame her lead accounting team manager and was using the money to fund her private vacations, which were known to be big, lavish, and often quite extravagant. However, her lawyers were skilled enough to actually frame the manager, who was later sentenced to 20 years in federal prison.
Madam Constance Holloway, founder and CEO of Holloway Fashion, was suspected of murdering one of her designers for offering an idea that Madam Holloway hated so much, she threw the designer off the cliff her manor is built next to during a party for her employees. No concrete evidence or eyewitness reports have surfaced, so the police can do nothing, but every one of Madam Holloway’s employees knows she did it.
As Alfred stared at the newspaper clips, photos of televised footage on the crime reports, quotes from people claiming to have evidence of the crimes, and photos printed from social media sites that he printed at a local library, he smiled and imagined all the ways he’d change society and destroy the class system.
“They will learn, and they will abolish what is now, and from the ashes will rise a new world where money will mean nothing but currency, and material things won’t hold status. In fact, status won’t exist! I’ll destroy it! The only status allowed will be political leaders, because a society can’t exist properly and peacefully without a ruling system, but society classes determined by material things will be GONE!!” Alfred yelled to himself, then began to laugh for a long time.
On that day, Alfred Jerrod Smith, son of a corrupt and now dead family, became a being of fear and death, and lived with the motivation of one goal, a single goal none had ever tried to achieve with such vigor before. Alfred was born anew as a soon to be serial killer, one who’d go down in history as the one man who put true fear into the entire human race.
“But first,” he whispered to himself. “I need a new name. I cannot carry this tainted, dirty name of those people I once called family.” He thought for a moment. He needed a name that would strike fear into people just by saying it. Alfred smiled as a name came to him. “Forseti.” The Norse god of Judgement.