[ WP ] Two psychopaths meets by chance as children and fall in love . When they are separated , they vow to find one another when they are older , by any means necessary .

We met over the dying body of Mr.Henson ’ s tabby cat and I thought you were going to tell on me. But the look on your face was different than what I had expected. You look interested and from your sock you drew a multi-tool, crouching slowly down next to me and drawing out the knife. Without a word, you pulled the knife down from the cat ’ s sternum to the centre of his belly and we spent hours picking him apart and bonding over the beauty of internal anatomy. Over the years, we grew together and so did our crimes. Missing cats and dogs were attributed to foxes or a coyote and, together, we were unstoppable. 
 
 
 One day, though, you grew distant. We were teenagers and my mother told me that it was only natural that we might experience rifts in our friendship, but I knew that she was wrong. You continued to give me excuses, stupid reasons that you couldn ’ t come over, and after a few weeks I was putting out pets on my own. Our creative expression was destroyed - the delinquent duo was torn apart. The fun that came from watching the light transfer from the eyes of some beast into your baby blues was irreplaceable. 
 
 
 Then things took a turn for the worst. My phone buzzed and I received a message which stopped my heart suddenly, before restarting it and urging the rapidly pumping muscle to tear from my chest. You told me that you didn ’ t want to hurt them. You said that you just couldn ’ t live with the thoughts anymore. And then, you told me that you were sorry. 
 
 
 An hour later our neighbourhood was brightly lit with the red and blue lights of police cars, flashing out of time with one another. People crowded the streets and I heard them whisper about how nice you were - as if they knew you. No one knew you or loved you like I did. My hatred bubbled and brewed and time began to slow. The salty tears on your mother ’ s grief twisted face froze in place, the lights remained lit but flashed no longer, and the gestures of the perversely morbid neighbours were still. 
 
 “ One hundred souls, ” stated an echoing baritone voice, “ One hundred souls and I will return her to you. ” 
 
 
 The ghostly dark figure circled me, repeating the instructions over and over, before disappearing. That ’ s how I knew I could get you back. Your life was worth those one hundred souls and the risks I took to get them. 
 
 
 The first was difficult, a homeless man sitting a box, but I took him out with a bat. As the bodies began to pile up, I learned more efficient ways of meeting my quota. The homeless were the easiest targets, and as long as I traveled after taking out a noticeable number, I didn ’ t get caught. Months went by and I had only managed to get sixty-four souls. 
 
 
 That ’ s when I bought the gun. A quick and easy way to take out larger groups of people. At first, I thought I had everything under control, dropping three or four bodies at a time. But once I had ten souls left, I slipped up. Thinking I could bring you back more quickly, I ran through the aisles of a grocery store, shooting and shooting until those familiarly bad news bearing police lights lit up the car park. 
 
 
 And here I am, ninety-nine souls later, locked in a jail cell. 
 
 
 I miss you so much and I am sorry that I failed. But your life is worth it. Maybe I ’ ll see you in another life 
 
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 She reads the letter, tears in her eyes as she wonders why he thought that a life without him would be worth living. Even with him, before she ’ d died the first time, she couldn ’ t seem to bring herself to move on. So, before taking a moment to live in the pain of his absence and her own insanity, she summoned the devil in the only way she knew how - knowing that she would finally see him again when it was all over. 
 
 
 

