Could you predict the two plot twists? "The Murderer and His Hallucination" My fifth short story

The Murderer and His Hallucinations

They called me names. Pushed me around in the halls. Dumped lunch on my head. Followed me home just to beat me up.

So I killed them.

My mother would always wait at home, smoking her cigarette, just to yell at me. She would scream about how I was the reason her life was ruined. My father would down himself with alcohol and whoop me.

So I killed them, too.

Ten years later, I’m the most wanted murderer in the world. I kill basically anybody who pisses me off in the slightest. I really couldn’t tell you why; it's just how I always was. Call me twisted, but at least I’m smart. I’m uncatchable. Every single detective who has ever taken on my case all died tragic deaths. Not to brag, but I’m kind of the king of the criminal world. That’s literally what they call me: “King”. 

I’m off the grid when it comes to technology, so I’m usually late to the trendy stuff. So when I first overheard about this new detective that was going to take on my case from these people at my local café, I thought it would just be another easy kill. But I kept seeing posters around town. After a week, nearly every building was plastered with them, with titles like “King Shall Die”, “We Are All Saved”, and “Detective Grant, Where Were You All This Time?”. This detective guy seemed to be the real deal. If people were reacting at this level, I guessed he was at least top 5 in the world. This made me a bit worried; I had no idea what the top 5 were like, and how they functioned.

The moment I entered my apartment and locked the door, I knew something was off. It wasn’t the apartment itself, no, everything was as I had left it exactly. Someone was watching me. I turned around in a fraction of a second and drew my gun.

There, standing right behind me, was another man. He was tall, blonde, and handsome. He put his hands in the air, but seemed quite calm about it.

“How the hell did you get in?” I asked, maintaining my composure. I literally remember locking the door, so there was no way he could have just sneaked past me. He said nothing, and pulled out a lighter. He began lighting a cigarette. I cocked my gun. “Answer me, or you’ll just die right here.” He smiled.

“Shoot me. I don’t care.” Was this guy sane? 

“Why, that would be boring.” I laughed. “I need to know how you got in here. The security I have in this place is too advanced to just sneak in.” He said nothing. I gritted my teeth. “Maybe I’ll just torture you for it.”

“Torture me? And what good would that do you?” He leaned in closer. “I only know as much as you do. You created me, after all.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” He shoved the lighter back into his pocket.

“You’re hallucinating, King. Get your act together.” My eyes widened. Nobody, not a single soul in this world, could possibly know that I was King. 

“I have no idea what you’re saying.” Maybe that would play it off. He just laughed again.

“Sure, sure. You can’t trick yourself.” He moved past me and sat down on the nearest chair. I made sure that my gun was on his head at all times.  “I’m not so sure as to how I’m here. I kind of just…” He clenched his fists, then opened them, signalling an explosion. “...popped into existence.” I scoffed.

“There is no reason I could be hallucinating. I’m perfectly healthy, and I haven’t been taking anything.” The man just stared at his shoes, then raised his head to look at me.

“Healthy? Do you truly believe that you’re healthy?”

“Well, yeah. I’ve done countless medical tests–”

“No, no.” He jammed his finger into his head. “I mean up here.” I gulped. He was right–I was diagnosed with a couple of serious mental disorders. I didn’t believe it at first, but I guess that’s what it took to create a killer like me. Still, I didn’t buy that he was truly a figment of my imagination. It seemed that the man knew that too. He sighed, then got up from the chair. He walked slowly towards me. My muscles tensed. Was I…scared? He walked until he was just a few inches from my face. He was towering over me with that height of his. 

“C-come any closer and I swear I’ll shoot you.” The man didn’t budge.

“I’m you, King.”

“No you’re not. We don’t even look the same.” He leaned in closer. The butt of my gun was touching his forehead.

“Look into my eyes.” I was sweating now. For some reason, I didn’t want to look at him. I turned away.

“No.” 

“Look.” He grabbed me by my head and twisted it. Just when I was about to fire–I stopped.

His eyes were dead and salty. He had this thing about him–this chilling, horrible feeling that I recognized instantly. It was the feeling of a killer. A twisted, intelligent, cold-blooded monster. The same feeling I carried around with me every single day. I was the only person in this world who could’ve possessed those traits; he wasn’t fooling around. He really was me. I put my gun down. He smiled. “Do you believe me now?” I nodded slowly. He moved away from me, and sat back down on my chair. “Now, as to why I am here…” He motioned me to sit down. I took a spot on the floor. “You haven’t heard of Detective Grant Mercer, have you?” I raised an eyebrow.

“The bigshot detective who recently took on my case?” The man nodded.

“I’m going to help you kill him.” I felt offended. I glared at this man–this hallucination.

“I don’t need your help in killing anyone.” I spat. The man stared at the ceiling.

“You can’t outsmart Detective Grant. Not even you, King.” He sunk deeper into the chair. “I think you created me because you already knew that.” I thought of standing up and punching him. Maybe break his nose. 

But he was right. The truth was, doubt had started to build up. The people were just so confident in him–I couldn’t help but wonder what this man was capable of. I took a deep breath, and looked the man in his eerie eyes.

“How do you plan to kill him?” I asked. He shook his head.

“You mean, how do we plan on killing him?” The hallucination rested his chin on his fist, deep in thought. “We can’t kill him as we are now.” I already knew where this was going. I had always gone with this tactic when facing people stronger than me: kill all of the people close to them. One by one, as they die, the target becomes more and more restless. Blind him with emotion; then strike at the greatest moment of vulnerability. The hallucination was looking at me. He seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. “We must kill the Carnage Choir first.” he said. I exhaled, then burst into laughter. The hallucination’s expression did not change.

“The Carnage Choir? We’re supposed to kill some middle school band to get to the great detective?” Obviously, I knew who the Carnage Choir was. They were an established group of the top 10 killers currently. I had created the group, after all, and was leading it. The name is so stupid because I named it while I was drunk.

“You done?” asked the hallucination. I stopped laughing, then spoke up.

“Why the hell would I kill my own people? My tactic involves killing Detective Grant’s men, not my own.” The hallucination, expression still blank, paused for a moment. It was a subtle pause–but one with meaning.

“We are killing his men. Grant is heavily involved with the Carnage Choir.”

“Bullshit. I built the whole thing; if something like that were true, I would know.” The hallucination laughed quietly, almost to himself.

“They’re betraying you. All of them. Grant has been teaming up with them to take you down since last month.” I stared at the man.

“You’re just my hallucination. How would you know something I didn’t?”

“I’m the version of you that tells you things you already know–and refuse to accept.” I said nothing.

The truth was, I had noticed multiple signs of dishonesty among our group, but never took the time to really go in depth about them. But the hallucination was right. I did know about it, and refused to accept it. And that fact alone pissed me off.

“I’m going to kill them all.” I looked at the man furiously. The man smiled, satisfied.

“That’s the spirit.” 

And so I did exactly what I said I’d do. It was a lot of work, because the Carnage Choir didn’t know each other's faces or who we really were. But eventually, with the help of my hallucination, I tracked each of their locations down and just shot them all. One by one, I stripped them off the face of the Earth. How was that, Grant? All of your closest comrades, the ones you thought you could use to kill me–dying. 

Finally, only one member was left to kill; codename Jonah. He was the second most wanted murderer, and therefore he was that much smarter than the rest. Technology was one of his strongest points, making him impossible to track down. The hallucination and I decided to strategize at one of the hotels we were staying at after killing the eighth of ten members. We both sat down on the chairs in our room, which were placed in a way in which we were facing opposite of one another.

“If we can’t track him with tech…” began the hallucination, “perhaps it's impossible to track him at all.” I scoffed.

“Yeah, you’re totally right. Why didn’t I think of that?” The hallucination seemed confused at my blunt sarcasm.

“I am you. So technically, you did think of that.”

“Oh, shut up!” I sat up and paced around the room. My hallucination spoke up.

“Maybe even Jonah is smarter than you.” He joked. It wasn’t funny at all.

“You know that’s not true. I’m going to kill him; I have to.” An idea sparked. “The Carnage Choir uses a special type of phone that we use to contact each other. Our voices and location are masked during phone calls.” I smiled. “I’ll pretend I’m Grant Mercer, and call Jonah. I’ll tell Jonah that I caught the king, and ask for assistance. I’ll make him come to one of my warehouses, then shoot him.” 

“Alright…” The hallucination seemed hesitant at the idea. “But I think that’s stupid. If you call Jonah, and he accepts, Jonah needs to ask you for the password. If you answer incorrectly, Jonah will blow up the bomb in your phone and kill you. If you answer correctly, Jonah would know that you’re not Grant Mercer since Grant doesn’t know–” I cut him off with my laugh.

“You really think the greatest detective in the world wouldn’t know the password?” How stupid was this hallucination? “I’m convinced detective Grant could figure it out himself; and Jonah probably knows that too.”

“Sure, but the code is different for each person and changes constantly. Not even Jonah knows your code–Isn’t it impossible for Grant to get it?”

“Of course it's impossible. But the idea of someone smarter than me is even more impossible; yet here we are.” 

“Wait, so you don’t even have a logical reason as to why–”

“Let’s go.” I said. I was already packing my things. 

“Now?”

“You wanted to go tomorrow?” The hallucination said nothing.

We hopped into my car and raced towards our destination. The hallucination just sat back and slept the whole way.

After an eight hour drive of pure silence, we had arrived. The warehouse was in the middle of nowhere, and was quite old. The hallucination and I exited our cars and made our way towards it. Inside the warehouse was when I called Jonah with our group’s specially tailored device. 

“Don’t forget to say the password,” He said for the first time in hours, “or we’re both dead.” I ignored him, and dialled Jonah’s number on the phone. After a few seconds there was a click. He had answered.

“Jonah. This is King calling.” I said.

“Password?” The fuzzy, altered voice asked. I said nothing. Seconds passed. Still, I said nothing. The hallucination started to fidget impatiently.

“King–what the hell are you doing? You have to say the password.” Still, I remained silent. 

Ten seconds later, the hallucination’s calm persona completely vanished.

“King, what the hell?!” The hallucination was backing away. “Have you forgotten about the bomb?” I said nothing. The hallucination looked ready to run for it, but we both knew how strong the explosion would be. It would be too late to escape. “YOU’RE GOING TO KILL US BOTH!” He was screaming now, but that didn’t move me one bit. Based on my counting, there was about five seconds left before the bomb would explode.

5…

“KING!”

4…

“SAY THE FUCKING PASSWORD!”

3…

The hallucination was running now.

2…

He wasn’t running from the explosion, no…

1…

He was running from me.

0…

“So it really is you, King..” said the fuzzy voice. I smirked.

“I didn’t even say the password, and Jonah accepted it.” I looked away from the phone to look at my hallucination, frantically running away. 

“So what’s the problem?” I didn’t reply. “Grant Mercer? Sorry King, but I don’t have the time to deal with him…” The fuzzy voice, or Jonah, was talking to himself. I didn’t say anything, not once–but he kept responding anyway. “Sorry man. I’ll hang up–good luck!” And then nothing. Jonah had hung up.

 I tore my eyes away from the phone to see my hallucination continue to run. He had gotten pretty far during those few seconds, but not far enough.

I pulled out my gun and shot him in the leg.  

“This was a fucking pre-recording, wasn’t it?” I walked slowly to where my hallucination was clenching his leg in pain. “You really thought you could predict what I would say?” I laughed as loudly as I could. “You got ahead of yourself there, buddy.” The hallucination slowly tried getting up, and was crawling away from me. He looked back, and when he saw me walking towards him, he immediately began to panic. 

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” Oh, the poor guy was scared. That made me happy.

“I knew it. You weren’t my hallucination; you were the physical, alive Jonah!” Jonah continued to crawl, clenching his bloody leg along the whole way. “You tried to use me to kill the Carnage Choir, right? You’re lucky I wanted them dead too, or else you would’ve been fucked a long time ago!” I walked closer and closer to him. 

It was so damn obvious from the start. Jonah had dropped below the top 10 most wanted list, being newly ranked as the 14th, so he was kicked off. He thought he was so smart using me to take revenge, since I was the smartest and ‘most vulnerable’ because of my mental disorders. He tried to trick me into thinking that he was a hallucination. He should’ve known I’m way too damn smart for that.

Jonah eventually realized that running away was futile, and collapsed on to the ground. By the time I reached him, he was laughing to himself.

“You idiot–Grant Mercer is going to kill you!” Jonah spat at my shoes. “Me and him have been in contact for long enough–you’re dead!” Oh my god, this guy was so stupid.

“Why the hell do you think I killed the Carnage Choir?” I leaned in. “It wasn’t because you tricked me too, no. I knew they were betraying me.” Jonah tried to bite at me, but I backed away just in time. He cursed at me. I just stood there, smiling. “Everything you’ve done to me up until this point, like tracking me down, I let happen.” 

Right then, I heard police sirens. Jonah stopped trying to attack and looked up at me. He smirked. 

“You’re fucking caught!” Jonah’s voice was raspy from his screaming. “You’re dead, King! You’re dead!” The police rushed in, guns pointed at Jonah. 

Just in time, fellas.

 I handcuffed Jonah firmly. He laughed. 

“Is this your last little trick, King? Handcuffing me isn’t going to–” 

“Police! Detective Grant! You’re under arrest!” I flashed Jonah my badge. He froze. Every moving part of his body immediately went limp. He couldn’t believe his eyes. This couldn’t have been happening–but the evidence was right there, directly in front of him.

“You–you’re Grant Mercer?” 

“Detective!” One of the police officers rushed towards me. “Are you alright?” I brushed my shoulders.

“This one was a bit of a hassle, but we got him in the end.” The officer smiled. “I knew you could do it, detective.” The other police officers were trying to stop the bleeding, and had already called the paramedics. Considering there was a hospital close by, they had already arrived. Another officer came up to me.

“I can’t believe we finally caught the King!” She looked over at Jonah. “I didn’t expect him to be blonde, though.” We laughed at the joke. 

“YOU DUMB FUCKS!” Jonah was screaming at the top of his lungs. The paramedics were moving him into the back of an ambulance on a stretcher. “I’M NOT KING–THAT GUY YOU CALL DETECTIVE GRANT IS!” I walked towards him. Jonah was shoved into the ambulance, and the door slammed on his face. I looked at him through the window. 

“King has quite the temper, doesn’t he?” I remarked. The officers chuckled. “You really think you’re tricking anyone?” I said, just loud enough for him to hear. The ambulance raced away. 

I later drove my way back to the station with another officer. After a few minutes, he spoke up.

“We–we caught him, sir. We caught the King.” The officer looked out through the window. I could tell by his voice that he was crying. “After all those years…” 

“That’s right, officer.” I said. The officer looked at me. I kept my eyes on the road. 

“B-but…I just can’t shake off the feeling…” His voice shook. “What if…we really didn’t arrest King? What if that guy we arrested really wasn’t who we were looking for?” He wiped the tears off his face and looked into my eyes for an answer. I continued to keep my eyes on the road. “I just feel like this was too easy, you know? I really hope we caught the real murderer, and not–” His voice cut off. His body went limp, and he collapsed into his seat.

I tucked my gun away and smiled.

“You’re forgetting something, officer.” I said to the corpse. “The King is uncatchable.”