Burn

By: Maris Hurt
September 11, 2008

I honestly believe she deserved it. Nothing these ‘doctors’, or ‘health care professionals’ they send can say will change my mind. Even now, as I am imprisoned, I am glad she is dead and in ashes. “Ashes to Ashes” and all of that fairytale nonsense!

Now, you probably wonder how I went from meek to wild, or zero to sixty in such a few steps, am I right? Well, I will tell you. You look too Rose-colored to exist long in this world.

Alexia and I were neighbors, you see? Well, I guess you can’t. Okay – block out the images of her burnt remains and IMAGINE her with smooth, cover-girl skin, (white, of course) and devil-in-a-blue-dress eyes. Got it? Good. Alexia was a werewolf in sheep’s clothing. Her ‘children,’ her appearance, and her little apartment were all a sham! She was just as sinful as the rest of the degenerates here.

See, Alexia’s kids were not hers. I know this. Yeah, she has two birth certificates – but if you look closely at them, they are forgeries. The children are never the same. She would use the two she had, kill them, and then start her ‘Hansel and Gretel’ bit all over again. Only this time, the witch was getting away with it! I couldn’t stand it any more. Every month, a new little boy and girl were lured to her apartment! Every month! There is no telling or way of properly calculating the number of little victims.



I lived across the hall from her for a year before I truly noticed the changing faces of her ‘son’ and ‘daughter’. Before I set her aflame, I lived in that building for three years. That would put her victim count in the seventies, right?



I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, until I noticed the ‘smell’. Have you ever smelled burnt flesh? Or heard the screams? The blood curdling screams of young children? It is enough to push a saint to sin, or an angel to fall, if you can understand the imagery.

I tried to save the children on numerous occasions. The police reports will back up that story. It doesn’t say ‘save;’ the witch actually used some kind of ‘glamour’ on the police. Any time I tried to help – they called it ‘harassing!’ It wasn’t! I was trying to save the babies! You should try to explain something so wrong, so out of the norm that you get ill just thinking about it! I never had a chance. So, I took good vengeance into my own hands.

I waited. Waiting is an art that I had perfected. I had to wait two months after my last ‘police encounter’ before I could act. Four children died, but it only strengthened my resolve. After the witch’s last supper, I took the blade from my kitchen, and broke into her apartment.

Alexia already had two more children in her home! I couldn’t believe it! She was obviously still bloated from her last meal as her stomach looked so incredibly full. If I hadn’t known she was a monster, something incapable of creating innocence, I would have thought she was pregnant. Obviously she had just eaten a child. Whatever the examiner says is utterly ridiculous when you look at the truth of the matter.

As I was saying, the witch had put the new children to bed. I heard her singing her enchantments to them as they lay. It made me sick, made me feel like God had put me here to see the evil I was stopping.

Without delay, I took a small statue off her bookshelf and smashed it on her skull. She was unconscious immediately. I dragged her bloated carcass into her bedroom, tied and gagged her to ensure my protection, then went after my supplies. In their beds, the children were fast asleep. I didn’t think it very normal – it was only eight at night. I shut their door and stuffed wet towels underneath so they wouldn’t smell what would happen. As I walked back through the apartment, I noticed that all the pictures matched. Somehow, this witch had ‘glamorized’ everything in the home. The pictures all matched the little boy and girl in the bedroom. I can’t vouch for that. I only know I did the right thing in killing the monster.

So, I ran back to my apartment, got my gasoline and matches. I figured the only way to kill a witch was fire or water. That is what all the books said. Water was too much of a hassle, so I went with fire. I took my tools and returned to the monster’s room. I soaked her with the gasoline, and the aroma filled the air and drowned out the burnt flesh smell. She started to wake at that point, so I acted quickly. I poured a circle of salt around the bed, made sure the area around her was flameproof (wet with water). By the time those tasks were complete, she had begun to stir from her place, so I grabbed the statue again and bashed in her head. It only took about four blows.

Then came the glorious fire. I lit my matches and threw them on her and the flame burst immediately. Her body twitched, but didn’t move off the bed. The flames roasted her bloated boy, but she never moved. I won.

I took out the fire after about twenty minutes. I used a flame retardant blanket to kill it. After I was certain it wouldn’t spread, I walked out, closed the door, and went back to my apartment. I took my medications and went to sleep. You know everything after that point. The cops came, accused me of murdering my ‘pregnant’ neighbor. Someone had the children – she looked like an older looking version of that monster Alexia.

And now I sit in a prison cell, committed for this ‘crime.’ I took action while others ignored evil. I followed my gut when I knew something was wrong. No one else saw what she was. They think she was the victim. Only I know the truth, and now you. And you believe me, right?