The Carnival Killer

Animals

Animals

Chuck Langston (teenage friend): He was normal. Our friendship was normal. We played hide and seek, we had sleepovers and we camped out and told ghost stories. Neither of us was into sports or music. Murphy loved poetry. Occasionally we went to the arcade and spent our afternoon pouring our nickels and dimes into the machines. We rarely had the money to waste on video games though.

Jason Linch (teenage enemy): That sick f**k better not ever show his face 'round here again. Bringing all this shame to this town. I told everyone he was a sick f**k and now when it's too late they want to listen. He's nothing but a sorry excuse for a human being and a waste of perfectly good oxygen. I pray he gets the chair. Lethal Injection is too peaceful for a sick f**k like Murphy Mark.

Chuck Langston: Murphy and I stopped hanging out when we got to high school. They put us in different classes and we both made new friends. He started hanging out with the Goth kids and they even started a dark poetry club. I was happy for him at first. I thought it was good that he found someone that enjoyed the same things as he did. Eventually they crossed the line. I heard some rumors that they were sacrificing small animals in graveyards and doing satanic rituals.

Jason Linch: He's been a creepy little weirdo his whole life. Why would anyone be friends with him? The only friend he ever had was Chuck and he finally came to his senses in high school. Cody and the other Goth kids were convinced Murphy was a god reincarnated or something. Those sick fuckers killed my mom's prize winning labra doodle, Sparky. They killed the Jefferson's jack russell terrier Rowdy and both the Watson's cats, Bubbles and Domino. Those bastards; and they wonder why I used to beat them up at school. They were killing all the animals in town. They deserved it.

Sheriff Daniels: That fall we had a lot of strange disappearances. Local pets were going missing almost every day. Some we found in a few local graveyards, most were cut in pieces in a ritualistic fashion. They were very gruesome and horrific. Some of the younger deputies would vomit near the crime scene. We never made any arrests; there was never really any evidence. Most people in the town blamed the Goth kids at the local school but I don't like to pass judgment because some kid likes to wear black. Hell my son is one of the Goth kids they blame. I know my own son and he wouldn't do something like that. Murphy on the other hand, I always knew he was a bad apple.

Diana Mark (mother): Everyone blamed Murphy for their pets disappearing. Murphy always loved animals, people not so much but he adored animals. He was always reading about them and telling me strange facts about them. He was such a smart boy. As for my neighbor’s pets, I think it was a pack of coyotes. They've always been around and in the winter rabbits and squirrels are hard to come by. A small house cat looks like lunch to a pack of coyotes.

Cody Moore (teenage/adult friend): Sacrifice animals? f**k you!

Chuck Langston: I had a golden retriever once. He was caring and affectionate. He would sleep with me almost every night. One night he stood at the door barking and whimpering to get out. I assumed he needed to s**t so I let him out. He darted off the porch and sniffed the edge of our cornfield. Suddenly three coyotes jumped out of the field and began to circle him. He growled and stood his ground while I ran inside to grab my rifle. When I got back outside seconds later they were all three gone without a trace. I never saw him again.

Jason Linch: No one ever mentioned coyotes until Murphy suggested it. Coyotes couldn't have killed Sparky, not to mention Rowdy; he was the fastest dog I've ever seen. Plus, he was a coward too, he ran from everything. I doubt he would have made friends with a pack of coyotes. Just more bullshit lies from Murphy and his friends.

Sheriff Daniels: We always had problems with coyotes causing car crashes out on highway fifty-nine. We nicknamed it "The Road Kill Lane" because the big trucks would pass through our town on that road but they would never slow down, not for anything. Guess they didn't want to be in our town any longer than necessary. Just about every day a dying opossum or raccoon would be lunch for a pack of coyotes. The townsfolk would swerve to miss the band of animals in the middle of the road. It would most likely end with the person in a ditch with a totaled car and a busted forehead.

Danny Matthews (childhood friend): One summer day Tony and I were at our club house we built in the forest behind my grandparent’s house. Murphy came in full of excitement. He told us last night he went into his bathroom to take a piss and found a mouse in his bathtub. He decided to do some "experiments". He held it by its tail and dipped it in the sink after he filled it with water. Over and over again testing the mouse's will to live. We asked him why he would do that, he replied, "I wanted to see how long it could hold it’s breathe."

After he got bored with that he said he got one of his model cars and stuffed the mouse inside it then dropped it in his tub full of water. He said he wanted to see if the mouse could swim to the surface before it drowned. Then he smiled when he said, "The third time wasn't his charm."

He filled the sink with scorching hot water and tossed the mouse in. I was shocked and Tony was speechless. Neither of us knew how to respond to something like that. Murphy stared at both us waiting for some kind of congratulations or good job gesture. Tony was always close to Murphy so he quickly dismissed it. I never looked at Murphy the same again.

Jackie Palmer (childhood friend): I only knew Murphy for a short time. Little under a year, I guess. He was strange but hell so was I. He told me before he moved to our little town his father had taken him to gun ranges and taught him how to shoot. They planned a hunting trip and invited my father and I to go along. The day finally came. Murphy and I sat with our dads in a large tree stand. Once we were all settled in, the sun crept over the mountains. The forest was cold, wet and covered by the morning mist. Our dads went back to the truck for more beer. Murphy was completely zoned in on his surroundings. He sat there and waited patiently for his prey to show. My father told me a lot of times you won't even see a deer, depends on the spot and the day. I'm sure Murphy's father told him the same. Murphy didn't want to miss his only chance. It's all he talked about for weeks. His dad gave him a small rifle like mine, probably used to hunt rabbits and squirrels. They defiantly couldn't kill anything the size of a deer, I thought.

Suddenly Murphy took a deep breath and stopped moving. A beautiful eight point buck walked out from behind some brush. It ate some leaves and grass while Murphy raised his rifle. No hesitation, perfect form, calm nerves, and no remorse. Murphy was a gifted hunter. He fired his gun and hit the deer right in the chest. It dropped to the ground and I stood shocked and amazed. "You got him," I gasped, "Nice shot."

"He's not dead yet, I have to finish him." He pulled out a large knife and jumped down the ladder. He sprinted toward the deer like a wolf going in for the kill. Our fathers came back from the truck. I told them what had happened. They were so stunned they dropped their six packs and the beer tops burst off spewing beer everywhere. Murphy's dad sprinted toward the direction the deer was in. My dad and I soon followed. We all found Murphy standing over the deer holding something in his hand.

"My first kill," he began, "in some cultures its customary for me to ear it's heart." He held the thing in his hand up and revealed what it was. A piece of the deer's heart he had cut out. He swallowed it without hesitation or gagging.

Cody Moore: When Murphy was eighteen he started his own business. A way for him to make some money before we moved to America to go to college. He was an exterminator; he always said it was his dream job. Sometimes he took it too far. He started to lose customers because he was being "too messy". Not in a way you would think. He didn't track in dirt on their brand new carpet or forget to bag a dead opossum. It was a lot worse than that. The Anderson's had a family of raccoons living in their attic. They called Murphy to take the raccoons and release them into the wild. Murphy went by the hardware store and bought a brand new machete for the occasion. He dismembered and entire family of raccoons. Once word got around about how he did his job he quickly lost it all. His mom lost a lot of money for cosigning the loan.

Jason Linch: Sheriff Daniels refused to do anything about those sick f***s killing all our pets. Murphy took that job too far and when he lost it he blamed everyone else. As soon as Murphy started that extermination business everyone knew he killed our animals. The Anderson's German Sheppard, Rosco was the first victim and I know coyotes couldn't have taken him out. That was the biggest most ferocious dog I've ever known. Most of the guys in the neighborhood wouldn't even date the Anderson twins because of their dad’s dog. He finished them all off and now he wanted us to pay him for getting rid of the other animals around town. It was revenge plain and simple. So I finally got my own revenge on that sick mother fucker and his friends.

Mr. Cooper (teenage neighbor and satisfied customer): All the townsfolk wanted to blame Murphy for their pets going missing. Hell most of the women in this town are alcoholics and wouldn't know if their kids were tucked in every night. Murphy climbed under my house and killed an eight foot long python that some dumb-ass teenager had down the street. The boy refused to come and get it so I called Murphy, the only exterminator in town. He couldn't bag it so he just killed it. That damn thing could have killed my kids but Murphy got to it first. He saved my family and I thanked him for it.

Jason Linch: This puzzle is easy to solve if you put the right pieces together. First, we know now Murphy Mark was a serial killer perhaps one of the most dangerous and sadistic killers of our time. Second, when he was a teenager a lot of animals in town went missing, and third, most serial killers torture and kill small animals as children. Seriously what more proof do you need?