[ WP ] Make me side with a serial killer from the perspective of one of his victims .

I am beyond fucked. This lunatic dances around me 
 
 “ Your pinky toe has value doesn ’ t it? ” 
 
 His tone toggles effortlessly between friendly and evil, all the while a thin muskrat-clip knife dances around his fingers. 
 
 “ Isn ’ t that insane; that you can actually put a price on something given to you by God? Human money! Say the right thing, right now, and I will leave your ear on your face, or your toe on your foot, or your soul in your corpse. Everything is negotiable! ” 
 
 He bent down to my ear. 
 
 “ You think I like this? You think that I want to see another person suffer? My god, man. Just show me the goods. Show me what it is it exactly, that makes you so special, and you can keep your toes. But before you speak. Remember. That when i kill you, our ten year mission will finally be over. Think about that before you open your big dumb mouth. ” 
 My heart is pumping so fast my thoughts are stuttering. ju-jusjust dont cut me. just dont cut me. just dont cut me. FuckHeHasAknife. just dont fucking cut me. 
 
 “ I'm-i'm just a guy. I ’ m a nobody. I ’ m just a mechanic. I work at Jefferson- ” 
 
 “ LIAR! ” He stood straight and raised the knife above my head. `` ONE MORE TIME!'' 
 
 “ PLEASE!! I ’ m just a guy! I ’ m Randald Hasken. Former Left Army. Private First Class. 1191983 ” 
 
 He dropped the knife, and staggered backwards. 
 
 “ My stars. Randald!? The Randald Hasken. Right here in my basement? I should tell the kids, they ’ d die before I let you leave without saying hello. ” He snapped his fingers and turned cold. 
 
 “ Denise! ” 
 A soft girl leaped to attention. 
 His transformation complete, he became morose, and grumbled with authority. “ Send in the kids. ” 
 
 She nodded and opened the door to the basement and beaconed up a stone staircase. She returned to attention and ganged way for a parade goons. 
 The former knife wielding man chatted with one of him when he came in. Their quick aside was over in a flash and the goon leader put his goon face as close as he goon could. 
 
 `` You are not Renald Hasken.'' 
 
 He wound up and clocked my jaw. Showed me the stars. Right on the button. I was out ten seconds, maybe more. Everyone is still standing around gawking when i eased back in. Their punches and kicks are relentless. By the end, my face is a bloody cloud. 
 I am only guessing that my lower lip is still attached. It feels like a beach-ball, but that could be my tongue telling lies again. Time for some truth, i guess. The psycho with the knife stumbles back in. 
 
 `` I have been following you, Arnie. I have watched you for years. I'm a psychopath, I know that. But you. You are supposed to be rational.'' 
 I struggle to see out of my left eye, I can see him walking circles around me. I am fucked. 
 `` Do you know who i work for Arnie? Can you guess?'' 
 
 `` The Arc..'' 
 
 `` Yes. Thats right. And why does the Arc want me to add you to the dead list? Is it because I am Awesome?'' 
 
 He spins around my chair to face him. My bloody wrists tear against the square portions of the zip-ties. 
 
 ``..Or is it because you are an asshole?'' 
 He gets cute `` Ca n't it be both?'' 
 
 `` How much did you take, Arnie? From charity. From...'' 
 He pulls out a small notepad from his back pocket. 
 `` St. Jude? MY GOD. Kids, Arnie!? Kids? How much? I just want to know. Look, I'm an evil guy. I get that. Blah blah blah. From asshole to douchebag. What's the going rate for a man's soul these days? If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine.'' 
 
 `` In total? or just St. Jude?'' 
 
 `` Total.'' 
 
 `` Three hundred million. Tax Free.'' 
 
 `` Not bad, Arnie. Not bad. Would you give it all back for your toe? Fuck it. Now I'm jealous.'' He slams the knife into my hand. `` Nobody, is more of an asshole, than me.'' 
 
 He steps back and pulls his pistol. 
 
 `` NOBODY!'' 
 

