# The Equilibrant (Serial Killer-type thing, violence, some gore)



## CJ Tomlinson (Jan 11, 2015)

_This is the first chapter of one of the three things I've been working on and trying to finish. The reason I might go with this one is because I think it's something pretty different. The reason I might not go with it is because, well, it's something pretty different. It's hard to categorize. The chapters are somewhat standalone short stories, and it ties together somehow later in the book. My main concern is if the reader would continue reading, and if the shorts feel like nice standalone reads to the reader. Also, I'm not sure if there's like, a rule or something or a point where it just becomes too gory, lol. So yeaaaah here's the first draft of the first chapter of this thing!_

*The Equilibrant*
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Staring bug-eyed at her own blood-drenched palms, her smile widened until it abruptly mutated into an uncontrollable burst of laughter. Though physically she could not feel a single thing, she cried more than she ever thought pure joy could make her cry.

He spoke to her in his normal voice, albeit at a slightly higher volume to cut through her racket. "And then?"

She laughed loudly, an absonant cackle that echoed through the hallway and tumbled down the stairs. He simply observed from a dozen feet away. She held onto the walls for support, but did not manage to hold on for long. Falling to her knees, she clutched her stomach. "Then... Then I said... I asked him... Why the kitchen..." 

Her words were almost unintelligible, drowned by laughter and dripping with merriment. 

The man's grin was deeply ambiguous; either a cheerful mask hiding something wicked or the smile of a man who never truly learned to do so. She did not notice, nor did she particularly care. All that existed to her in that moment was The Joy. It blinded her, coated her world in a bright sheen and exiled any traces of straight thought or concentration. It filled her ears with the sound of her own laughter, reflecting loudly and vibrating throughout her skull in different tones and notes. She fell to the ground and writhed on the hardwood floor in jollity.

The man calmly watched her. He had a pad in one hand and a blue pen in the other, but up until this point he had not written anything down. He almost seemed entranced by the display. "Yes, go on, please continue."

Without warning or provocation of any kind, the woman ripped her blue blouse. She struggled and managed to get part of it off one shoulder. She then tore off the bright bracelet that hugged one of her arms. Anything and everything on her body had become weighty and suffocating, an enemy attempting to restrain her ascent into pure happiness. She struggled to her knees and elbows and stayed in that position gasping for air. Chuckles and giggles escaped her here and there, at first almost rhythmically but then sporadically and stilted. She grabbed her ribs with her right arm and for a very small fraction of a second she seemed to feel not joy, but the deepest of horrors imaginable to man. The instant passed and she smiled contently. She took a moment to try and breathe, slowly drawing in as much air as she could. She laughed again, but the laughter rapidly subsided to a few soft chuckles.

"Stay focused," the man said. "Think solely about the good. The hilarity."

A burst of short laughter followed, then a strained cough. She could breathe again. He did not sigh nor hang his head. For a still moment, it seemed as if he was absorbing everything that was happening. He walked over to her. "How do you feel?"

The woman spoke in short, breathless bits. It was as if she had run a marathon and now collapsed at the finish line.
"Nothing... I don't... I... Empty."

He knelt down. Some tattered remains of her blouse were obstructing his maneuvering, but he did not remove them. Pushing the small, carbon steel blade through the fibers and into her flesh with one hand and steadying her body with the other, he noticed the owl tattoo on her shoulder. He did not seem impressed.

"If I remember correctly, you once told me you did not like animals."

One long, red line from her neck to her lower back. "I did... I do..." 

At each end of the line he made another one, effectively creating a capital letter I shape on the brunette's back. She appeared to not mind, or possibly even notice. He shrugged for no one in particular. "It does not matter, I suppose. I just find it a curious thing to lie about." His hands slowly passed around the back of her head to her face, and he felt around her facial features.

Using his thumb, forefinger, and a bit of struggle, he pulled her left eye out of its socket. She let out a slight moan. With the other hand the man showed her other eye the blade. "I am going to put this in your mouth. I want you to chew. I promise you will not feel any different."

"But... Why?"

"Like most things in life; for many different reasons, yet at the same time, no real reason at all."

She smirked. "You and your balance."

He firmly nudged the blade through her grinning teeth and she chuckled. As a result of the motion, blood started trickling down the corner of her mouth even before she began chewing. With a crack and a shriek-like noise, a tooth or two fell out with thick drops of blood soon chasing them.

"Every living person knows one thing that nobody else on earth does, can, or will ever know. Sometimes, even the person does not understand it, but that does not mean they do not know it. The interesting thing is, even if you understand it, you are unable to pass it on to anybody else."

"What..." There was a slight drop in her tone. Hollow. Absent.

He gently peeled one part of the skin on her back, then he did the same with the other side, effectively transforming the I into a block-shaped O. The flaps of flesh became flimsy wings, nearly paper thin and caked in crimson. The area in between was a maze of tendons, muscles, veins and a lot of red.

"It is different for every person. Which is why nobody else can understand it."

Running his finger across the meat inside her back, the man looked up at the clock across the room.

"I am at a crossroads. I either finish with you and take my time with Vincent, or I take my time now and see what happens with him after."

She mustered up all of her strength to mutter her final words.

"Where's the balance."

He almost smiled.

"You always were smart. Goodbye, Abby."


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## Burroughs (Jan 11, 2015)

Great discriptive writing. A good start to what looks like a interesting novel.


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## aureliochavez (Jan 12, 2015)

descriptive and vary interesting


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## HMCBHT (Jan 13, 2015)

I've always been interested in serial killers. This was interesting. I felt that the narrator was indifferent in his tone to the transpiring events, which I liked. Good story.


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## aureliochavez (Jan 17, 2015)

Every living person knows one thing that nobody else on earth does, can, or will ever know. Sometimes, even the person does not understand it, but that does not mean they do not know it. The interesting thing is, even if you understand it, you are unable to pass it on to anybody else."



I don't quiet understand this part I like to the start of the story had me in deep, but this part confused me.


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## Crowley K. Jarvis (Jan 19, 2015)

I was more interested in Abby's state of mind myself. It made me wonder. Drugs? Insanity? Oddly enough, this killer you've created reminds me of Vendetta more than a little. Philosophical! That's one of the best phrases I've ever seen. I'll be writing that one down. Otherwise, the tense and style of writing was perfect for the content. Your choice of words was enthralling and also neutral and passive, as if you were looking on with the same equal interest and disinterest as the killer. At least that's what I gather. That style you use here would work well with horror too if you have a mind to write anything scary. Otherwise, very interest-arousing and dark, without overdoing it. Balanced. Haha.


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## Peter Baine (Jan 25, 2015)

I agree with Crowley. You'd think a woman busy laughing herself into a coma while a man cuts her up would put you in the "Wrong Turn" or "The hills have eyes mindset." Yet, all I kept thinking was _what the hell is this guy up to? What's he trying to understand out of this? _It helps that the narration of the story is very laid back; it brings the man's mind forward, not forgetting there's a naked woman lying on the floor, but not paying too much attention either. Good read! Definitely like to know it continues.


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## Burroughs (Jan 25, 2015)

You have a really good skill for descriptive writing. I felt like you could have told us more about the state of mind of the woman. However, I do understand why you didn't. I really enjoyed the read and it would definitely be a great start to a novel


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## CJ Tomlinson (Feb 3, 2015)

Thank you all for the comments! It seems this piece does come across exactly as it should for the most part. 

The chapter that follows (which I will be posting soon) is somewhat of a drastic change, while still trying too keep a similar feel. I think that one will definitely need a lot of work on it... 

Anyways thank you very much for taking the time, I really appreciate it and it means a lot to me!


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## Jaysen (Feb 21, 2015)

I am in agreement with some of the other commenters; you are a very descriptive writer. I think the dialogue was very fluid and natural as well. It will be interesting to see what's next to come. Hope to read more!


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## Joe_Bassett (Aug 5, 2015)

Very descriptive.  In the beginning I thought the woman was the killer and the man was some sort of therapist.  Obviously I thought wrong. Has a very nice build up to the events taking place.  I, myself, am attempting a novel about a serial killer but the POV is that of the investigator,and I'm nowhere near as good a writer.


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## crimewriter95 (Nov 16, 2015)

I can tell that the most talented part of your writing comes with description and it helps when visualizing and comprehending the story. Although I'm not much for gore, you managed to still intrigue me throughout the story and I feel you did a great job as a story teller.


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