Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-29970504-20160915144139

I like to drive in the dark. More specifically, the pitch dark, save for my headlights. I'll spend whatever free time I have looking for long, winding roads that connect towns that are miles apart, not lit by any lamps or house lights. Those are my happy places, my house of zen.

They are my "fortress of solitude."

The key word being solitude, I've never really liked seeing anyone else on the road with me, be it pedestrians, cyclists, even other cars. It irks me that they get to share this special place with me, when they have no reason to even be there this time in the morning. The time in the morning when the sun won't rise for several hours. My rage and anger came to a penultimate climax when I had had enough of the selfish bastards who dared to take my meditative device away from me.

I decided to do something about it.

One morning, I think it was at least 4 A.M., I was driving, thinking about the vacation I was planning in the coming months, when I saw the lamp of a cyclist. I felt this twinge of contempt, like normal, but it was...different this time. I could feel the edge of my lips curl into a smile of sorts. It felt like I was a spectator in my own life as I watched my hands guide the steering wheel towards the cyclist. I felt my foot press sharply on the accelerator. I don't remember the sound of the impact, but I sure felt it. Watching the lamp careen into the ditch through my side-view mirrors gave me a giddy feeling.

I had just killed a man.

And I loved the feeling of doing it.

This rush of emotions I received as I terminated another man's life was unlike any high I'd ever experienced. It lasted longer than any high as well. Every morning, I'd follow the routine; get up, get in the car, and drive down unlit winding roads, looking for any cyclists who had the misfortune of sharing the road with me.

Eventually, that rush wasn't enough.

I soon targeted both cyclists and pedestrian joggers. They had no right to invade my happy place! Why should I allow them to leave unmolested?! Although I learned, through trial and error of course, that joggers were harder to kill than cyclists, due to the fact that a mere side-swipe wouldn't solve my problems. Head-on collisions was the simple solution that I decided on, and watching the blood and viscera wash over my windshield brought a wide smile to my face and manic laughter to my lips.

Cleaning it was of no issue. There were many self-serve car washes in my town, and I used them to great extent. Using that pressure hose to wash blood off my killing machine has been one of, if not the most, satisfying things I have done.

So, to all you joggers and cyclists out there who like the prospect of going down that unlit back road in the early hours of the morning, I suggest you reconsider. That is my road, and I hope you know the price for invading my fortress of solitude. 