When Lives Collide
Jake’s training was complete. They told him to wait for further instructions. But Jake was not good at waiting. He had a questionable impulse control. His training had improved on that problem but Jake was not a long-term thinker. He had progressed from the guy who would pull a knife or gun to solve an altercation in a bar to a guy who would appear to walk away from the fight but be waiting outside with the knife or gun and attack you from behind. Jake was more dangerous and still impatient. He wanted to try out his new skills in stealth and murder, and he knew exactly what he would do.
Jake went to a dollar store and bought a cheap ice pick. They had taught him that there were two types of killing. The one type was the noisy killing which would get lots of media attention. Its purpose was to spread terror and convince people that no one was safe, so what was important was the media coverage with lots of noise and flames and blood and bodies. The other type was the individual killing with a specific purpose. These killings were usually solitary, quiet, and done with stealth. Their purpose was often revenge or elimination of someone important to the infidels. The president of the US was the ideal figure, but too difficult to get at. There were lots of others who were easy targets. They particularly favoured returned soldiers when they could get names. These killings received different media coverage but sent a chill through the military when a soldier had been home for ten years and was suddenly killed and a note from ISIS left with the body.
Jake had decided he liked the second type of killing and that it wouldn’t hurt if he practised his skills. His newfound brothers would never know unless he told them, and he would not do that. Jake didn’t realize it, but he was soon to meet the criteria for being called a serial killer.
He was walking around after dark exploring alleys when he found what he was looking for. A passed out wino sleeping under some broken down cardboard boxes. He walked past and then returned in stealth mode. It really impressed Jake with how quietly he stole upon the sleeping man. He ignored the fact he had just walked by the drunk and had not disturbed him. Jake was in a fairy tale world where he was the hero with superpowers. He carefully pulled the cardboard back until he could see the man’s head. The drunk was not disturbed. Jake pulled out his ice pick and rammed it into the man’s ear up to the hilt. The man shuddered and thrashed about. Jake took off at a run. The guy was supposed to die instantly like on TV. As he ran he remembered the careful instruction they had given him on placing the ice pick. He had just shoved it in. They had talked about the brain stem and other things that Jake ignored, but he remembered that once inserted he was supposed to give the handle a hard push sideways so that the pick cut through the brain. They had trouble getting him to remember that but now he remembered. He would need to practice more.
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