The Ink Murders

Fortunately, the boy’s crime was never discovered, unfortunately, his guilt for the crime was never shed.

Well, that was unfortunate for other people, certainly not for him. Nick Haven was many things, but sorrowful wasn’t one of them. And, he certainly wasn’t going to tell on himself. He may have been a sociopath, but he wasn’t stupid.

In fact, Nick Haven had always been a very bright boy. He was considered an intellectual by his family and teachers at Laywood College. He loved to read, especially classics. But unfortunately, the books that he read inspired him and led him to commit his next murder, and when he did so, he would leave a page from the book that had inspired him the most.

That was why the police had named those killings ‘the Ink Murders’. It was really an attempt at covering the fact that they had no clue who was behind it.

Nick had been reading “One flew over the cuckoo’s nest” when he electrocuted Eleanor Rojas to death, in an abandoned hospital.

He had been reading “Moby Dick” when he drowned Edgar Reeves in the sea.

And now, as Nick Haven was reading “Macbeth”, he was inspired once again.

But, he wanted to make this murder different. After all, all Ink Murders were special in their own way, or so Nick thought, being the one who came up with it and all. He was clearly biased.

He had grown tired of just killing people. He had explored all the different ways he could do so.  He even left those pages at the crime scenes, and yet he hadn’t been caught yet. He of course didn’t want to , but knowing that there was a slight possibility of being arrested always gave him a thrill. A ‘troubled pleasure’ as Wordsworth would put it. However, all games had to come to an end, so why not make this a little bit more interesting, as it would be his last time?

So, Nick started planning his last murder.

He had to do so subtly, he knew that his parents would never suspect him, but others might. He didn’t want to reveal that he, Nick Haven, was behind the Ink Murders, until the very end.

Nick had already picked his next victim. After all, he was a planner. He had chosen a girl, aged eighteen, named Dalia Myers, who attended the same college as him. After having spent a while researching her, Nick had learnt everything that one could possibly now about Dalia. It was settled then, he wasn’t going to approach her, to then lead her astray to a remote location where he could murder her. Oh no. Things were going to be different this time.

He had seen that Dalia was friends with Nick’s friend, Anton.  Nick may have been a sociopath, and since it was correctly believed that ‘sociopath were people with personality disorders, that manifested themselves through antisocial behaviour’, he had made an effort to make at least a friend, in order to dismiss any assumptions.

The next day, Nick met Anton at the only place in Laywood where teens didn’t dread going. The park. He was going to race Anton from the gates, to the red picnic table underneath the oak tree, at the end of the park. Anton would, of course win, as Nick would use this opportunity to steal Anton’s phone. Nick would then head home, and steal Dalia’s number. In this way, no one would be able to know that he had done all of this. Furthermore, he wasn’t going to use his normal phone, he really wasn’t stupid. He was going to use a burner phone. The day after, Nick met Anton once again, and when the former mentioned that his phone was missing, Nick swiftly put the phone in Anton’s trousers’ back-pocket and said:

“Have you tried checking all your pockets? You might have left it in a pocket of another pair of trousers.” Luckily, Anton unlike Nick, was stupid, and didn’t suspect the latter at all.

So, all that was left to do, was write to Dalia Myers.

The exact words that Nick used will not be reported, but they did the trick. While reading ‘Macbeth’ Nick realised that maybe, what he needed, was to psychologically control someone. And who was more perfect for the role, if not gullible Dalia?

The plan was working. Nick blackmailed Dalia into committing despicable things. Things not even he had ever done. Not because they were despicable, or because he couldn’t do it, but simply because it wouldn’t be possible to do so, without making anyone suspicious. But, no one could suspect sweet Dalia, especially because she was the most quiet out of six children in her family, so no one would notice her absence.

And slowly, Dalia began losing her mind, guilt was eating her alive, calmly, but it was happening. There would come a point when she would refuse to do anything else, despite Nick’s threats. But, he knew this, he didn’t dread it, he was waiting for that moment. It was exactly what he wanted.

Finally, that day came. Dalia said that she would do no more and Nick told her to meet him at the Laywood park, at midnight. It was perfect; he was going to end this where he had started it.

Nick left his house in the middle of the night. The stars were bright, and while he walked towards the park, he admired them. It was his last night of freedom.

He reached his destination, and there was Dalia, standing in the middle of the park. She looked up and saw him, but she didn’t speak at first.

“Why… Why are you doing this?” she finally asked. her voice was hoarse, as if she had been crying.

Nick hadn’t been expecting that question. Sure, this was fun, the Ink Murders were always being mentioned in the newspapers, they were famous across the whole of Britain. But was there an actual reason, to why he was doing all of this?

“Because I can, thats’s why” he answered. All his life, people had underestimated him. It didn’t matter if his parents and teachers found him ‘bright’. No one had noticed the links between him and the murders. It was insulting really.

“I’ll keep on going until I get caught. But this, should be it really.” he said.

Before Dalia could reply, Nick pulled a gun out and pointed it at her.

He fired it.

But somehow, it didn’t hit her. She was still there, standing with her eyes closed. Nick was speechless, when he did use a gun to kill people, he never missed. One shot, and out it goes. What had happened?

While he was busy reflecting, Dalia charged at him. There was a struggle and finally, a gunshot was heard. All the crows flew away, and the sky was clear again. Dalia stood up and ran away with the gun, while Nick laid there, on the grass covered with mayflowers. His face still with pain. Dalia would never tell a soul what had happened that night in the park. No one would ever know who the Ink Murderer was. They would all probably think that Nick was just another victim.

Unfortunately, the boy’s crime was never discovered, fortunately, his guilt for the crime was shed.