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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required ...Of course he had arranged it all in a place where they’d find nothing, the sports world mourned this ‘tragic death,’ police couldn’t find anything. That opened up a murder spree, though no one could see it as such, he roamed around, used different ways, never left the coppers with much. Soon one life wasn’t good enough, began to take multiple souls, it increased the difficulty, no one knows the entire toll. Carson even would kill people in broad daylight, in public space, calculating how to do it without people seeing his face. But as a reader might expect, with this too Carson soon grew bored, he saw every play moves ahead, it just didn’t thrill anymore. This was weighing upon his mind when he picked out his victims, a family of four, walking to church, he’d do it, and all would see him. They were not anything special, he just saw all the folks around, gauged how they would react to it, who would run, who would go to ground. He knew what the father would do, he looked like an upstanding type, with a wife and two young daughters, he’d be terrified, but would fight. Not that it made too much difference, he’d kill them all in ten heartbeats, saw from the way the man’s armed moved he’d used punches initially. A quick duck and stab to the ribs would finish him there on his feet, his wife was small, she would tremble, and die before raising a bleat. As if it already happened Carson raced on after his prey, his machine mind calculating probabilities all his way. The father saw Carson coming, the wife and the kids shrieked in fear, Carson saw the man squaring up, one more easy prey, it appeared. Carson saw him loading to punch, and ducked low to slide in the blade, but the father spun and stuck out his foot, and forward Carson splayed. His mind reeled as he hit the road, how had he not seen this before? What factor had his system missed, and then realized, with pure horror that the professor had been right, a chaotic system men were, he could read almost everyone, but out there, some would be blurred. Some kind of small mutation or variation he’d not thought up, a factor that escaped notice had left Carson sh-t out of luck. And yet, despite all that happened, he felt then a moment of hope, something new he could not predict, something still quite beyond his scope. He had to turn and tell the man to go home and have many kids, so no future generations would know the kinds of boredom he did... CONCLUDES IN PART V.
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