Behind The Serial Killer

c, but exhilarating. They spoke of revenge, of tak

ipulator, using Jack's pain an

r," The Architect wrote.

th that. He had felt t

his curiosity getti

chitect replied. "Just be

s hooked. He was in to

e Architect grew more frequent. They spoke of pla

pation. He could finally see a

alize that something was off. The Architect

f to stop. He was too far gone, too

ck's nerves were on edge. He knew what he was abo

ife free from pain and suffering. And Jack was

r staring back at him. A stranger with a heart f

ment, Jack kne

ck's nerves were stretched to the breaking poin

andoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. Jack

t waiting for him. He was a tall, imposing figur

Architect asked, his

trying to h

nife. "Put these on," he instructed. "I

The Architect's words echoed in his mind: "You

k and took the knife. He was ready to u

de his heart skip a beat. His mother was home, standing in t

grabbing The Architect's

art of this too," he hissed. "She's been

t pushed him forward. He was trapp

everything

d throbbing with pain. The Architect was nowhere to b

pened. His father lay on the floor, a knife lodged in his chest.

tripping over his own feet. He fell hard o

d of his mother's screams, echoing in his

police officers and detectives. They asked him questions, but Jac

he Architect, and the plan for revenge. But he couldn't shake off the feeling tha

ar: Jack was guilty of murder. He was sentenc

n a dream world, a world of darkness and shadows. He had let h

he Architect was still out there, pulling the strings

e had to stop him, n