The Man Who Never Smiled

There are three types of killers.
I have dealt with each, and only one is a murderer.1

The first kind of killer is predictable. He’s the textbook example, the one you hear about when you’re a kid: He kills out of passion. This killer isn’t crazy; he’s just been driven to extremes by his situation. Maybe he wants revenge, maybe he’s been consumed by envy… Or maybe he’s just having one hell of a bad day. Either way, he’s no murderer.2

The second one I like to call the zealot, a label which is both easy to remember and very descriptive. Basically, this guy thinks he’s God: He thinks his morals are about a mile above everybody else’s, and he’s ready to start killing people as a way of exerting his unique little viewpoint. Sometimes, he even makes you laugh. I met one of them once who thought his TV dinner had made him kill his next door neighbor. But being crazy doesn’t make you a murderer.3

The third kind of killer is the rarest.
This story is about him, and my dealings with him.4

I first met Smileyface on one of those days in October where it feels like the cold is going out of its way to piss you off. I felt I needed little or no preparation for our meeting: As a reporter, I had heard just about everything to do with him already. I actually already had a little bit of history with the guy: He was the only one I couldn’t get any dirt on. Before I go on, I guess I should tell you a bit about myself.5

My name is Roger Jacobs Spencer, three names which I despise equally. Luckily, my friends have elected to gift me with the title of “Bones”, which I now sign my articles with. I work as a freelance journalist, and I’ve gotten myself quite a reputation for getting the scoop on serial killers. It all started in ’86: Some asshole starts picking people off, and I was there. Our society is obsessed with violence, but what makes serial killings so interesting is they’re killings by the same guy: It gives the audience a character, a face to work with and a personality to attach to it. 6

But things started getting complicated a few years later. A new psycho showed up, and this one was torturing young women and animals. I cross referenced a few petting zoos, checked a couple of clubs… It was only a matter of connecting the dots. I helped the cops catch the bastard, and pretty soon I was having news stories written about me. I became “Bones” Spencer, and I helped the cops take down three killers after that. I guess I just have a sort of knack for picking up patterns.7

Now, getting back to what I said before, the first step to finding a killer is to figure out which type he is. This is pretty easy; you can always find a few touches of personality in his “handiwork”. Multiple shots in the body? Probably a crime of passion. Symbols carved into the bones? I’d put my money on the zealot. Figuring out their type is like figuring out their height, or the model of their car, or what they like to do in their free time (well, besides the obvious). It’s the beginning of the trail. Keep narrowing it down from there, and you’ll catch the guy eventually. Getting a killer’s type makes things a hell of a lot easier, which I guess is why Smileyface was so god damned hard to catch.8

Smileyface is the most prolific, and quite possibly the most famous killer who ever lived. He is guilty on more counts of first degree murder than any other human in history. Smileyface has drawn comparisons to Charles Manson, Jack the Ripper, and Adolf Hitler… But they don’t really match up with him. Smileyface is not just evil; he’s a different kind of evil. A whole new species. He is the third type of killer. Admittedly, I never knew why he kills; that’s something I couldn’t seem to figure out. Over the last forty years, this guy’s killed more than two thousand people, and nobody could ever figure out a solid motive.9

And I got to interview him. A little ironic, isn’t it? I spent two years trying to track the guy down, and I failed pathetically. In my defense, Smileyface doesn’t leave a lot of witnesses to talk to. But when the cops finally bagged him, the associated press decided that I was the only one they want interviewing the bastard. Lucky me. I figured I’d get to make some cash, wallow in my failures, and maybe find out how one more psycho sees the world. To quote two of our society’s more distinguished cartoon characters, “Happy happy joy joy”.10

So it was on that particularly nippy October morning that I made my pilgrimage to the Wilkerson Maximum Security Penitentiary, affectionately dubbed “The Wilk” by most of its inhabitants. In two days, Smileyface would be executed by lethal injection on multiple counts of murder, rape, theft, and animal cruelty. And the asshole had agreed to one last interview. I figured I should get there as promptly as possible.11

The drive was short, the jail was big, and the guards had that sort of smile that you reserve for an aunt you don’t really like seeing. A fat one with a long face greeted me.
“You Mr. Spencer?” It didn’t take a psychic to know that this man needed more sleep than he was getting.
“Yeah, that’s me.” My hand dove into my pocket, shuffling around to find my ID card. I wore a plastic white necklace that said “press” on it. Retrieving the aforementioned identification, I handed it to the guard. He glanced at it, and gave it back.
“Right this way.” 12

As I was led through the massive, steel complex that was the penitentiary, I wondered how many of the killers I had tracked were put away or executed here. The Wilk had itself a reputation for being roughly a step up from a prison for the criminally insane: If you were there, you were sick and crazy, but not fucked up enough to be diagnosed with anything. Because of this reasoning, a lot of serial killers wound up at The Wilk. In my humble opinion, Smileyface would probably be better suited to a prison for the criminally insane.13

As we passed a few more miscreants, I could see that the path was coming to a close. We had begun to pass empty cells, and now we reached a white door, which the guard opened. As we entered the hallway, I absent-mindedly wondered why they always have to be beige. Why beige? I guess it’s comforting, but it’s so boring. But I suppose it’s not as boring as pure white, which was the color of the room we now stepped into. The room was a pure cube of chipping white paint, with a brown wooden table sitting in the middle of it. There were two blue plastic chairs attached to the floor on either side of the table, with another two pairs of silver handcuffs fastened to one of them. And fastened to the other end of these handcuffs were the arms of Smileyface.14

Smileyface was imposingly tall, with muscles that were visible beneath his tight-fitting orange prison clothes. His head was round, with a short nose and empty gray eyes. The slightest bit of beard stubble protruded lazily from his chin. His ears were packed tightly against the side of his head, and Smileyface had fingers that would make any pianist jealous. He looked as powerful as he had ever been… But tired. He knew his age, and his fate. Wrinkles were just beginning to set in on his face, and had he had any hair, it probably would have been gray. And of course, his most striking feature was clearly visible: In stark contrast to the grim straight lines that were his thin lips, a scar had been meticulously carved from one cheek, down to his mouth, and then to the other. It was a demented clown’s grin.15

For his part, the guard looked mostly calm, but exuded a certain… Awareness. As though he knew that Smileyface’s eyes were intently boring into him. Avoiding the gaze of the murderer sitting within ten feet of him, the guard turned to me.
“You get twenty minutes. I call every ten.”
Obviously, I needed no introduction to Smileyface. Before I could thank him, the guard shuffled out of the room. Now it was just me, my briefcase, and a merciless serial killer. I wondered when I had stumbled out of reality and into The Silence of the Lambs.16

Smileyface just stared.17

I placed my briefcase on the table and opened it. As I pulled out my tape recorder, I began to feel the same sort of cautiousness that the guard had seemed to feel. Of course, I had no reason to be afraid. Smileyface had no reason to kill me, let alone a way to escape his restraints. I had dealt with countless killers. So why was I nervous? Better not to think about it. I pressed record.
“Hello, Mr. Cipher. I’m Roger Sp-”
“You’re Bones Spencer. You’re here to interview me.” His voice was a strange mix of gravel and morphine.
“And you don’t have to call me Mr. Cipher. Call me whatever it is you call me in your head.” John Cipher was Smileyface’s oldest and most frequently used alias. His real name was unknown to the authorities or the public, and not something he had been willing to divulge. But in any event, I had always referred to him as Smileyface, the name given to him by the media upon his capture and the discovery of his horrific scar. I considered it to be just as valid as any other false label he might bestow himself with. Even so, “Mr. Cipher” sounded a lot more respectful, so I figured I’d stick with that.18

“OK. It’s good to meet you, Mr. Cipher. And how are you today?”
“On death row. Yourself?”
“I’m fine, thanks. I was hoping I could talk to you today about your past.”
“Talk away.” One thing I was beginning to notice about Smileyface was that he wasn’t big on movement. His light eyebrows occasionally fluttered, and his lips opened and closed with perfect precision, but everything else was completely inanimate. He was also paler than I had originally noticed. His voice wasn’t so much monotone as it was devoid of emotion. Trust me, they’re different. Smileyface was perfectly capable of things like emphasis and intention; there was just no feeling or slant behind his words. Every sentence was a grim proclamation. I continued.19

“You’ve been incarcerated here for almost a month now, and in two days you face your execution. First, do you have any statements that you’d like to make for yourself?”
“No, I do not. Any views I have I have already expressed in my work.”
“Your… Work?” Obviously, he was talking about his murders. But I needed to get him talking about something.
“Vicky Callahan. Terrance Wilson. Roger Moore. Sarah Quinnette.” Just victim’s names. Damn. I considered asking more about his work, but I figured I’d stick with my original list of questions.
“Oh. Well, would you like to tell me about your childhood?”
“Not really. Would you like to tell me where you learned to play psychologist?”
Cocky bastard. I started to give him my usual rap.
“If you’d prefer, we can move-” 20

Smileyface leaned in slightly.
“Mr. Spencer, I’m going to give you two stories. One of them is true, and one of them is not. I will leave it up to you to decide which one to print. The first story is that I was raised in rural Tennessee, living with an alcoholic father and two sexually abusive older siblings. My father beat me regularly with a leather belt, and I spent much of my childhood crying in the darkness and torturing small animals. I made my first kill at the age of twelve and left home at fifteen. The second story…”
He paused, perhaps to leave space between the two stories on the tape, or perhaps to allow these details to set in.
“Is that I grew up in a generally happy, well-adjusted family in Toronto, Canada. I experienced few or no negative influences until I joined the army upon my completion of high school.”21

I sat in silence, in a sort of awe at this man. He understood the workings of the press – and what I was looking for – perfectly. It was then that I fully grasped what the guard had feared: This man was no Charles Manson, no Adolf Hitler. He was not manipulative because he hardly needed to be. Smileyface projected an aura of such confidence, such dominance that many of those who had dealt with him had probably found themselves bending to his will. And those who hadn’t… Well, their names were probably written down in my notes somewhere.22

“I see. I’ll consider them both carefully, Mr. Cipher. You mentioned negative influences.... Would you like to expand on that subject?” Smileyface shifted his weight in his chair.
“No.” Now I was getting low on questions. Was he going to play this game with me the entire time?
“…Are you sure?” The murderer just sighed.23

“If you are expecting my life story, you will not receive it, nor will you receive any major psychological insight. But it should suffice for me to say this: I have seen the world, and I have seen our species. I have seen what we are capable of, and I have seen our true face. I am nothing, and neither are you. I am no monster; I am just the tip of a very dark and twisted ice berg. I have only dared to do what the rest of us are afraid to.” I considered this. By now, I was under the impression that Smileyface was most definitely a zealot. He clearly had strong views, and justified them. But now, I was picking up on something… Different. I didn’t know what. Suddenly, my cell phone started playing the theme from Mission Impossible, so I picked it up.24

“Hello?”
“This Joe Hendricks. Just checking up.”
“…Joe?”
“I’m the guard. I let you in. Is everything all right?”
“…Yeah. Everything’s fine.”
“Right.”
Joe hung up, and I turned back to Smileyface, who hadn’t moved an inch. Another irony about his name: He never smiled. Ever. This guy might have been the coldest son of a bitch I’d ever encountered, his lips barely even curved. His eyes still staring intently at me, I promptly moved on to my next question.25

“A lot of people have called you evil. Do you think you’re evil, Mr. Cipher?” A little redundant next to my previous question, but I was actually kind of interested in this one.
“I don’t believe in evil, Mr. Spencer.” Now there was an awkward silence. He had spoken the words with such cold precision that I could practically imagine them on my tomb stone.
“Well, do you-” Mission Impossible played again.26

“’lo?”
“Hey. It’s Joe again. Mr. Spencer, I’m afraid we’re going to have cut your interview short, we have a friend of his here to see him.”
“He’s allowed to see friends?”
“He is if he’s gonna die in two days, sir. You’ll be able to finish up your interview tomorrow.”
“…All right. Thank you.”27

“Looks like I have to go. Thanks for your time.” I stood up… But Smileyface’s eyes followed me wherever I went.
“It was my pleasure, Mr. Spencer. I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow.” I nodded and gave a weak smile. As Joe Hendricks entered, I picked up my briefcase and swiftly walked out, happy to be done for the day with this warped man.28

~0~29

“Scream.”30

Darkness.31

“Scream.”32

A deep throated gurgling finally erupted from the girl’s mouth, and he felt the last breath of air travel through her windpipe. Squeezing it one last time, he let her throat fall limply on the bed along with the rest of her body. A smile faded from his face.33

John Cipher turned on the light, and the shabby motel room was suddenly illuminated: One window overlooking the city, soggy wooden floorboards, a musty old camp bed, a comfortable green chair, an old table with an older phone, and a nightstand on which the activated lamp sat. Handcuffed to the bed was a dead prostitute.34

Needing to relieve recent stresses, John had requested the girl’s services. When he asked her to put on the handcuffs that he had looped around the end of the bed’s metal frame, she obliged. She had dealt with numerous of clients who had held such fascinations… But she became uneasy when he did not take off his own clothes, and proceeded to tape her mouth closed. By the time her suspicions grew to genuine fear, it was far too late.35

John spent the next two and a half hours torturing her: He sliced her arms, beat her face, and burned her flesh. Taking cold pleasure in her every noise and wincing, he never removed a single article of his own clothing. Finally, when her eyes rolled back in her head and John saw that the prostitute could no longer experience the pain that he had prepared for her, he took to strangling her. Now the deed was done, and John breathed heavily.36

While the sounds of engines and sirens floated into the room through the open window, John washed what blood remained off of his tuxedo. His most recent job had involved posing as a waiter at a very high class restaurant, and he hadn’t bothered to change into anything more casual. But John was experienced when it came to washing blood out of clothing. It didn’t take long until the suit looked as good as new.37

John walked slowly back from the bathroom into the bedroom, looking over the girl. He felt no pride, no joy or remorse. He didn’t even feel the icy satisfaction that had seeped through him when he had killed her. The girl was now to him a piece of garbage, as inanimate as the bed she was lying on. Sitting down on the chair, John massaged his temples and looked up at the ceiling.38

As he began to wonder how long he would stay in this city, the decrepit phone on the table began to ring. The noise it emitted was blaring and obnoxious, and John was irked upon answering it.39

“Hello?”
“It’s me. Come down to the McDonalds on Fourth, I have a job for you.”
“How much?”
“Fifteen hundred. Come now.”40

The call ended abruptly, and the phone began to make an equally-annoying electronic noise. That had been Steven, John’s handler. Within the next twenty-four hours, John would have to kill some high rank politician or businessman, but he knew that it would not be as enjoyable as the prostitute had been. Hanging up the phone, John went downstairs and checked out of the motel. He stepped through the door and onto the pavement.41

It was a warm sunrise in May, 1982. While light began to creep over the city, John took to walking briskly toward Fourth Street. Thoughts and images of the prostitute tucked themselves away in his mind, perhaps for his retrieval at a later date. She had been his hundredth murder.42

Years later, the world would know him by a different name.
But this morning, he was John Cipher.
It was going to be a beautiful day.43

~0~44

When I woke up the next morning, rain was falling heavily on the windows of my apartment. I felt like a small child: Safe and cozy in my warm haven, aware of the major difference between me and everything else: I was inside, it was outside. I was at peace.45

Then, I remembered that I had to go interview a deranged serial killer. Damn.46

During my drive to The Wilk, I did some more thinking about Smileyface. I was starting to wonder which type he was, as I was now under the firm conviction that he was neither the first nor the second. Back then, I had not yet created a third. And there was still the burning question: Why did he kill? What was the point? Surely he was not driven only by nihilism… Disdain can only carry us so far. As I pondered this and ate the bagel that I had brought with me, the rain started to ease into a drizzle.47

When I walked into The Wilk, the guard looked even more tired than he had before. He looked up at me and nodded.
“Hey. We moved him to another room; I’ll have to take you there.”
“Ok. Why’d you move him?”
The guard stepped forward, and began to make hand gestures as he told his story. It made him look Italian, but he also appeared to be signaling to some unseen baseball team.48

“That guy who visited him yesterday… Well, we didn’t really know too much about him, so we figured we’d stick a camera in Smiley’s room. Y’know, just in case. So this guy – crazy son of a bitch, looks like one of those old hippies and has a voice like a faggot – gets in the room alone with Smiley and starts laughing. That’s all he does is laugh hysterically, like a maniac. He does this for a good five minutes, so I figure now would be a good time to take a piss. When I get back, the visitor’s dead. We send in a few guards to clean up the mess, and I watch the tape. The hippy laughs for a while longer; they talk quietly for a bit… Then the visitor leans in close and says something, and Smileyface smiles really wide… God, it was the sickest thing I’ve ever seen. Smileyface gives him this huge, shit-eating grin and then rips his throat open with his teeth. He locks the visitor in place with his legs, and then gets his face… Anyway, he’s in a more secure room now. I have to take you there, come on.”49

As the words sank into my head, I must admit I had trouble processing them. He ripped a man’s face off with his teeth? What kind of… I could hardly even comprehend it. How badly did Smileyface hate this visitor? Or worse, was he just that malicious? It looked like I had some interesting questions to ask. We rounded the final corner, and the guard unlocked a large wooden door.50

This room was a stark contrast to the one I had been the day before. While that one’s design consisted only of chipping white pain, this room was perhaps inspired by the painter’s more gothic tendencies. Each wall was black. Other than that, the layout was similar to that of the last room: A table in the middle, a chair for me. A video camera was perched in a ceiling corner behind me. Smileyface’s chair was quite different, however. Now his arms and legs were secured with leather straps, and he could hardly even shift his weight. He had now been shaven clean, and he looked to be in a better mood than before.51

“Good morning, Mr. Spencer. I trust you slept well?” Smileyface said this as the guard closed the door. His lips were still uncurved, but he spoke in a manner that was far more upbeat. Still no emotion in his voice, but now there was more intention.52

“Good morning, Mr. Cipher. I slept OK. How about you?” I opened my briefcase and put my tape recorder on the table.
“I slept wonderfully.” He said the final word as though to taste it, and I saw that his eyes were smiling wider than his lips would ever be able to. I was about to push the record button, but I hesitated…53

“Why did you kill the guy who came to see you?” I was genuinely curious, and Smileyface seemed to revel in this.
“Because he asked politely.”
“…What did he say to you when he leaned in?”
“He asked me how the champagne was here. I told him it was delicious.”
Staring at the enigma in front of me, I knew I would not receive the answer I wanted to my question. I pressed record.54

“Good morning, Mr. Cipher.”
“You already said that, Mr. Spencer.”
“Today I was planning to ask you about your career. The police have determined that spent many years as a hitman-”
“Assassin. I started as a hitman, and then I became an assassin.”
“Assassin. Sorry. Did this profession get you into killing, or did you have… prior experience?”
“I had prior experience. My career served as an outlet where I could use my talents to make a living.”
“And you never considered the moral conflicts of-”
“I think we’ve already had that conversation, Mr. Spencer.”
“Oh yes, I’m sorry.” Smileyface seemed far more open today, and more responsive. He was still cold, but this time a face was carved in the ice. And a scar was carved on the… Well, you get the idea. I figured I’d skip to the big questions, and save both of us some time.55

“How did you get your scar?”
“An old friend gave it to me.”
“A… friend.”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Well, were you in some sort of feud?”
“Yes, and it was between the two of us, Mr. Spencer. I’m afraid you’ll have to move on to your next question.”
There was still the big one. But I would save that for a little later.56

“Why did you torture so many of your victims?”
“I didn’t torture them. I altered them.”
“Mr. Cipher… Some of them, you tore to pieces. Some you burned alive. Are you denying that you tortured your victims?”
He was now a little less at ease, but still amused by my words and mannerisms.
“Pain is only a sensation. It means no more and no less than a powerful itch. I altered them because it allowed me to feel, and it allowed me to relieve myself of certain… Stresses.”
This was maybe the only straight answer I’d ever gotten out of Smileyface. He continued.
“You look at me like I’m a monster, Mr. Spencer. Like an insect. Why is that?” All of the intention had drained from his voice. He was back to his old self.
“…Well, I don’t think you’re a monster, Mr. Ci-”
“I know who you work for, Mr. Spencer. You don’t want to know who I am; you just want to fill up one more page in the tabloids.” Now I was uncomfortable.
“That’s just not true, Smileyface-” I froze, realizing the impact of my words. Smileyface projected the satisfaction of victory. I knew there was no way I could recover from that remark, and we sat in silence. The only noise was the whirl of the tape recorder. I felt as though he was dissecting me with his eyes.57

“Do you have something you want to ask me, Mr. Spencer?”
Sweat was running down my face. My suit had begun to constrict me.58

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. Why do you kill?”
And Smileyface nodded, like I had passed the final test.59

“That is information….” He paused, heavily.
“That I will take with me to my death.” For a moment, I just looked at him. I pushed the stop button on my tape recorder.
“Thank you.” I gathered my things and walked out.60

~0~61

This was it.
Endgame.62

Tonight, it would be one or the other. John or Simon. This was the grand finale. For the first time in years, the two of them were pitted straight against each other in a fight. Tonight would be the end.63

John ran through the falling debris. Huge fragments of ceiling were pouring down, crushing those who were too slow or too weak to escape them. Luckily for him, John was not one of these people. He dove and sidestepped, weaving his way closer and closer to the main ballroom. This hotel was prestigious, and knowing Simon, John had a feeling that it was probably the only room not rigged to explode.64

In the distance, he could hear Simon’s cackle.
“John? Where are you, John?! It’s time for this to end!”65

Another charge exploded, this one sending a small fireball through a doorway to John’s left. That had been one of the dining rooms; dozens of people had probably just been killed. Not that it mattered to John. Finally, he stood in front of the closed doorway to the main ballroom.66

“I see you…”67

John heard the shotgun being loaded just in time to jump out of the way of the shot. Now there were three holes in the door, and another charge detonated beneath it. He was out of the way of the blast, but he felt the heat. John knew this would have to end soon, as distant sirens indicated their fate.68

Leaping through the smoke, John broke the door down in a swift motion. His body was powerful… But he was old, now. How many years had it been since his first kill? 30? 28? Still, he could hold his own. He would win this battle. Finding himself a suitable hiding space amidst the debris, John looked at the figure of the man before him as the smoke cleared.69

Simon McGraw was tall, thin, old, and extraordinarily ugly. He had a large nose that was almost like a beak, and wrinkles had set into his face. He had hair down to just below his shoulders, and was often mistaken for an aging hipster or a homeless person. There was no hair on his forehead or directly on top of his head, however. His teeth were crooked, and one sharp one was pointed awkwardly outward.70

On top of that, Simon’s flesh was a tan-bronze mess of odd birthmarks and freckles. His frame was wiry and bony, and it appeared that there were perhaps ten pounds separating him from skeleton-hood. His voice usually resembled a cracked screech. In spite of all this, Simon remained the most determined and resilient person John had ever encountered, apart from himself. Also, for all intents and purposes, Simon was probably insane.71

But now his head turned in John’s direction, and John knew he had to move. Simon had been trying to track John down for ten years, and was so obsessed with killing him that he had gone so far as to rig the entire hotel with explosives. The main charges had detonated ten minutes before, and John wasn’t too surprised that Simon was operating them. He rolled from his pile of debris to under a table. 72

“John… I’m going to be frank with you. I’ve been planning this for a very long time, and if you don’t come out here and face me, I’m afraid I’m going to have to bring this whole building down on both of our heads.”73

There was a pause, and John stopped moving as more rubble settled and Simon listened for him. A shrill cry:74

“FACE ME, YOU BASTARD!!! FACE ME!!!”75

He would. But not yet.
What John was planning to do was sneak around behind him, and then sever Simon’s spine with his knife. Perhaps it was cowardly, but it would do the job. Slowly and meticulously, John weaved his way under tables… Suddenly, a shot rang out. The glass table behind him shattered in a display of crashing noise and reflective light. John would be there to face him, soon…76

John and Simon’s conflict ran back ten years: Simon had been, and still was, a terrorist, attempting to overthrow the American government. He had always suffered from a flair for the dramatic and strong delusions of grandeur, but John was willing to put up with both when he was hired as one of Simon’s mercenaries. Simon had spent much of his life amassing an army powerful enough to overrun a small city… Until John came along.77

When John learned that Simon did not have the funds to pay him, he chose to set fire to Simon’s makeshift barracks. The result was 341 dead mercenaries and a blood feud between the two of them. Simon had spent all of his resources tracking John, chasing him around the world in his desire for vengeance. Tonight, he planned to take it.78

Now John was under the last table. He could see Simon’s ankles perhaps six feet in front of him… He took a deep breath, and lunged.79

Just as John could almost touch the backs of his legs, Simon spun around and fired a shot at the glass table John was under. As it collapsed, he soon found himself held down. John was trapped under the metal and glass, and was pushing it off of himself when Simon fired two more shots. John felt tingling sensations in his chest and stomach. Simon laughed maniacally.80

“Good effort, Cipher. But it looks like I’ve won.”81

John’s body was going numb. He tried to push the fragments off of himself, but could not muster enough strength with the hole in his chest. The bullets had not seemed to puncture anything vital, but blood was pouring out. Simon kicked his head, and John winced. He had a very high pain threshold… But the shards of glass were digging into his wounds.82

“Always so serious, John…. You never could lighten up. Here, let me help you!”83

With the grin only a maniac could have, Simon pulled out a knife. He leaned down so he was at eye level with John, and began to carve.
The rest is history.84

When his work was finished, Simon looked at the mess of blood and flesh now etched across John’s face.85

“You’re done. You think you’re going to be able to keep taking jobs with a scar like that? Hell, any cop would recognize you in a crowd!”86

John had to get up. He had to. Mustering every bit of strength he could, he began to push the metal frame of the table off of himself.87

“Poor little John Cipher….. No more prestigious hotels. No more fancy dinners. When you get to hell, tell me how the champagne is.”88

John Cipher threw the huge metal frame into the air and over his head, watching it fly backwards and out of his field of view. It made a loud noise as it collided with Simon. John hoped it hurt. Getting up, he looked at Simon’s form: He was out cold and bleeding, and he imagined a few bones were broken. John would kill him… But he had already heard the police break down the door. There was no time.
Another day.89

Clutching his wounds, John managed to find a back door and stumble out into the December night. He would later go on to get the holes in his chest and stomach repaired and stitched with relative ease, but the scar would prove to be permanent. His disfigurement was ultimately his downfall: In 2006, two years later, a pedestrian would recognize him and give the police his license plate number.
But John Cipher would get his revenge.90

~0~91

At 11:34, I was still editing the article. There was a lot to write. I listened to the tape recording three times, and it never failed to chill me. I also had to edit it heavily. My article would be printed in several publications, but none of them had a readership that was… Mature enough to handle the full scope and darkness of Smileyface’s words. What he said was scary, but not tabloid scary. Just scary.92

And in retrospect, I’d figured out which kind of killer Smileyface was. He didn’t kill out of passion, or because he was crazy. He was the third kind. He killed because he was evil. That was the only reason. Smileyface was simply not capable of feeling any kind of empathy for anyone else. He probably didn’t even know the visitor.93

As I pressed save, my phone started to ring. It surprised the hell out of me, and I picked it up on the second ring.94

“Hello?”
“Mr. Spencer? Are you all right?”
“…Yeah. Who is this?”
“It’s Joe Hendricks. Are you OK?”
“Um… Yeah. What’s going on?”
“Look… I don’t want to alarm you, but Smileyface got out.”95

Suddenly, every sound around me seemed louder. I could hear my heartbeat. I instantly felt very warm in my sweater.96

“…How?”
“The bastard used a fucking tooth. That guy he killed earlier? Well he bit out one of his canines. We think he kept it in his mouth the rest of the day. But anyway, he used it to cut through the leather. Took a guard by surprise, got himself a gun…”97

Shit. Shit. Shit.98

“Where is he now?”
“That’s the thing. Of course we got the cops on his tail, but they lost him after he got off the highway. And, Mr. Spencer, well…”
“What is it?!”
“He looked through our visitor records. He found your home address. That was the last thing he did before he left.”99

I heard a loud noise from the other room.
I hung up the phone.100

As the sound of my front door hitting the ground carried its way to me, panic and fear started to set in. I began to experience the strange sensation that I was going to die that evening, and believe me, that’s pretty damn scary.
I got up from my computer as heavy footsteps started to hit my carpet. I had to hide, or get out. Now.101

The door to my room opened sharply, and Smileyface stood with a gun. Pain exploded in each kneecap as it was shot. Now I was left lying on the ground, staring at the light on the ceiling as pain turned into a tingling numbness. Smileyface stood over me and looked around.102

“This will make a fine death.”103

He knelt down and spoke quietly to me. Now his words were intimate, almost affectionate.
“I think we need to finish our interview Mr. Spencer. Do you want to know why I kill?”104

I winced.
“DO YOU!?” He jammed his gun in my mouth, and I nodded.105

“I kill… Because it is who I am. Because it is who we all are. I am not some warped and distorted version of humanity, I am no beast: I am only a mirror. And when we look too deeply into that mirror, we don’t like what we see…”106

He paused. Several car doors slammed shut outside.107

“I have the same nature each of us has; I just choose not to deny it. I don’t suffocate it, I embrace it. I kill…”
He looked up attentively. Men – at least ten, by the sounds of things – were charging up the steps to my apartment.
“Because I can.” 108

Pulling the gun from my mouth, he stood up and prepared for his final murder. Standing in his orange prison clothes against the background of the bright ceiling light, Smileyface looked like a dark God.109

He put the gun to his head.110

And John Cipher smiled wide…

Author notes

GOD DAMNIT.
I just saw The Dark Knight.
I think it's worth pointing out - as you can tell by the date posted - I came up with this story and the Smileyface character long before I even knew Dark Knight existed, let alone its coming out.

Wow.

DW stands for Dora Winifred.

A contest entry

Please tell me what you think

    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
    : Cost: 0 free left 0 points, You have 0. (?) (Line numbers)
    Ratings:

Comments

1 - 57 of 57

  • Cupcake14
    February 5

    Edit | Reply
    And I got to interview him. A little ironic, isn’t it?

    wallow in my failures

    I didn't get both of them

    You should have labeled this 'Adult', there is a lot of profanity. Not that kids will know, but if their parents look over the computer, they'd freak. Which parent would like their kid to read murder stories?

    I'm a bit confused about the word psychic-does it mean to read minds? I always confuse the word psychic for the word medium.



    finger-fingers



    And of course, his most striking feature was clearly visible: In stark contrast to the grim straight lines that were his thin lips, a scar had been meticulously carved from one cheek, down to his mouth, and then to the other. It was a demented clown’s grin-This character is clearly inspired by the Joker isn't it?

    Awareness.-awareness.

    Well, you've taken references from Hannibal Lecter too, it seems.

    as it was shot-as I was shot

    In the end, you gave a great buildup, but the fact that he was speaking in past tense(Which means he is still alive at the time of narrating), and the short ending sort of killed the suspense.

    It had a great beginning, but in the end, it just got cliched like the rest of the murder stories. I'm quick commenting, so I didn't know you came up with smiley before the dark night before i read your A/N













    • Xineph
      February 5
      Edit | Reply
      Yeah, labeling it adult is probably a good idea. What do you mean by "wallow in my failures" and "finger-fingers" and "Awareness. -awareness-"? A psychic is someone who can read minds, whereas a medium is someone who can supposedly speak to the dead. Also the "as it was shot" bit is correct, because it's referring to the kneecaps.

      Like I said in the author's note, I wrote and conceived this long before The Dark Knight had even been announced. Also, I don't think the past tense kills the suspense, as I think the source of suspense towards the end isn't "is Mr. Spencer going to die". Rather, it's "What is Smileyface going to do?" I don't understand what makes the ending "cliched", as you didn't specify. Either way, thanks for the comment.


  • Wildpaw-Lily
    January 28

    Edit | Reply
    Hmmmm.....Not sure what to say......I suppose I'm strange for saying this but I didn't like it as much as I could have....It seems too played out to me (Characters (obviously), events and storyline.) Not much spur of the moment type things >.< ... It was great at the end which kinda saved the story but the rest didn't get my attention that much...


  • Oddems.
    January 18

    Edit | Reply
    I am sitting here, all goosebumpy. That story was chilling, and spectacularly written. The only thing is that for my contest the wprompt needs to be included in the story. However, since you included the carving of the face...I might let it slide. Anyways, good luck!

    PR


  • sodancewithsoda silver member
    January 11

    Edit | Reply
    *reread* and I love your story
    I hope this piece of writing comes out more in SW...

    And I remember telling you I thought you're a genius.. and I believe that, even now

    *tries to give applauses again*


  • Zapuruxo
    October 21, 2008

    Edit | Reply

    By now, I think that I can safely assume

    that you are both a brilliant author and a psychic. Seriously. Or something along those lines.

    Or perhaps you are lacking in the ESP department...in which case, all I can say is that the Dark Knight writers were obviously part of a conspiracy to rip your character from your mind.

    You should be paid royalties, at least.

    Excellent story. I never expect anything less from the great Xineph. :]


  • Azzy Bear
    March 31, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Oh dear lord.
    That WAS AWESOME!
    Like OMG!

    It left me at awe to see how many trophies you've gotten for this one story! You deserve at least a hundred!
    Wooo!

    My fave paragraph you ask? :

    “I kill… Because it is who I am. Because it is who we all are. I am not some warped and distorted version of humanity, I am no beast: I am only a mirror. And when we look too deeply into that mirror, we don’t like what we see…”

    He paused. Several car doors slammed shut outside.

    “I have the same nature each of us has; I just choose not to deny it. I don’t suffocate it, I embrace it. I kill…”
    He looked up attentively. Men – at least ten, by the sounds of things – were charging up the steps to my apartment.
    “Because I can.”

    And John Cipher Smiled Wide..... Photo Finish!


  • IrishYndina Greeters member
    March 29, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Jesus Martha! *gawks* Wow, that was amazing. You have a true talent for story-telling, a narrative voice most people would kill for (I hope no one gets any ideas from that statement *laughs*), and a strong sense of pace. Your technical skills are also advanced, which always makes reading so much smoother. I had thought I had the story figured out, and then you turned it on its head by having Smileyface escape - really, brilliant. I can definitely see why this has won so many trophies!

    A couple of notes:

    * I love the flashbacks, as they add so much to the story, but it seemed a bit awkward to me to switch between first person present and third person past narration. I'm not sure what to suggest as far as fixing that, either, but generally if you follow someone with first person narration you are limited to their knowledge and the things that they see/experience/know. It would be a shame to get rid of the first person narration for Mr. Spencer, since it allows you to give him such a great voice. *ponders* I don't know, I guess I'll just bring it to your attention... *laughs*

    * There are a few things you could tighten a bit, to give this the ultimate zing - basically, it's already fantastic, but you could make it phenomenal very easily. For instance, I would really like to see a little more of parallelism between the introduction about the three kinds of killers and the ending, the fact that there is only one kind of murderer and then the final murder, Mr. Spencer's philosophy on serial killers and how Smileyface helped form them. Everything is there implicitly, all you have to do is make it explicit!

    * The champagne was simply inspired!

    Hopefully you find this helpful, or I will just have wasted space on your comments page for nothing... *laughs* Absolutely loved the story, though, and will no doubt read it again...and again...


  • B Chandler Greeters member
    March 29, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Only one person on this site has ever and I mean EVER made me gawk endlessly....and that's the greeter Andy Stephenson. Now I freaking loved the comparisons you done in comparing the killer to three famous murderers, BUT I think you could've taken in comparing 'The Wilk' a step further by comparing it to the top two most famous prisons in the US- Rikers and San Quinton. Nevertheless, oh my freaking gods!!!

  • abba12
    December 8, 2007
    Edit | Reply
    wow, that was great! i dont have any suggestionns for you. well paced, well written, i love it.


  • Miss Hanako Cullen
    November 3, 2007
    Edit | Reply

    SPEECHLESS

    WOW, all I can say is that's the longest story I've ever read..that I actually enjoyed. Honestly, I was a little bored in the beginning but then you really picked up the story and I got caught in it!

    All I can say is AWESOME JOB on this story! I really enjoyed it!

    beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.


  • Kevan gold member
    October 26, 2007
    Edit | Reply
    Extremely good job on this piece! You pulled me in right from the beginning and everything after that was... well... lets just say it COULDN'T have been written better. You deserve a trophy in my contest for this (and look at all those other ones.. WHOA) so I'll see what I can do! Good luck!
    xxx
    -Kevan


  • LostShadow silver member
    September 8, 2007
    Edit | Reply
    Nicely written. I've already read and commented this but reread it and it was just as good as the first time I read it.

    Keep up the great work and goodluck.

    Emma


  • ladynigritude
    August 23, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    Random notes as I read:

    Ooh, the first three paragraphs were brilliant and completely captured my attention

    "You’ve been incarcerated here for almost a month now, and in two days you face your execution." - This fact bugs me. In today's prison system, it would take years/decades for him to be executed...I doubt he'd be executed after only a month. I don't think this little fact is a huge part of the story (as far as I can tell), so it would be fairly easy to change it.

    "Then, I remembered that I had to go interview a deranged serial killer. Damn." - That WOULD ruin a nice rainy day, wouldn't it?

    ' “Why did you kill the guy who came to see you?” I was genuinely curious, and Smileyface seemed to revel in this.
    “Because he asked politely.”
    “…What did he say to you when he leaned in?”
    “He asked me how the champagne was here. I told him it was delicious.” ' - Ooh, I loved this bit of dialogue!

    "The police have determined that spent many years as a hitman" - You forgot a "you" between "that" and "spent"

    “Pain is only a sensation. It means no more and no less than a powerful itch. I altered them because it allowed me to feel, and it allowed me to relieve myself of certain… Stresses.” - He killed them to feel? This kind of confuses me, because at the end this wasn't the reason for killing that he discussed...

    "and was often mistaken for an aging hipster or a homeless person" - That's funny. I can now visualize Simon perfectly.

    “Poor little John Cipher….. No more prestigious hotels. No more fancy dinners. When you get to hell, tell me how the champagne is.” - Ooh, ooh, the champagne!! So it was Simon who he killed... That was great!

    "And in retrospect, I’d figured out which kind of killer Smileyface was. He didn’t kill out of passion, or because he was crazy. He was the third kind. He killed because he was evil." - This is incorrect, right? Smileyface wasn't evil, he was just a "mirror"...Or was he mirroring the evil in humanity? ( !!) Gah, so was Mr. Spencer right or wrong here?

    “Look… I don’t want to alarm you, but Smileyface got out.” - Oh yeah right, geeze. -_____- That's absolutely terrifying!

    “I kill… Because it is who I am...I am no beast: I am only a mirror. And when we look too deeply into that mirror, we don’t like what we see…I have the same nature each of us has; I just choose not to deny it. I don’t suffocate it, I embrace it. I kill…Because I can.” - So...basically his motivation for killing is that he's just giving in to (well, more accurately "embracing") his urges to kill, instead of ignoring the "basic nature"/"carnal instincts" of humans (and that nature that most people deny because of the moral consequences of killing), which is to kill? Hm... Anyway, his reason for killing is slightly murky in a way (see my previous comment about him killing to relieve stress), and if what I've just said is the reason you're going after, then you may want to have it explained a little more thoroughly... Actually, looking back at it, you did very well in conveying this, but it didn't really sink in right away. Perhaps you could reword his dialogue a bit to make it sink in more? And if you're also trying to make the point that ALL humans have a part of them that is exactly like Smileyface's and that most people just deny it, then you may want to somehow work that into Smileyface's dialogue as well. It would make Smileyface's killings all the more horrible and his point would be brought home even better.

    "Standing in his orange prison clothes against the background of the bright ceiling light, Smileyface looked like a dark God. / He put the gun to his head. / And John Cipher smiled wide…" - That is one of the most perfect endings I've ever seen. Beautiful. I'd love to see that last scene (or this whole story, for that matter) played out on film.

    I hope all of my insane editing has helped you in some way. Anyway, thanks for entering this in my contest.

    • Xineph
      August 24, 2007
      Edit | Reply

      Wow.

      This was just about the most helpful comment I've ever received. Thank you for the time you spent on this. Some responses:

      He's been incarcerated for three months, but that doesn't mean they haven't known about him for more. With a criminal as sensational and well known as Smileyface, the court is certainly going to focus on him more than the common petty thief. And considering he's killed "more than two thousand people", I should think there would be substantial evidence to condemn him to death.

      Yeah, I did forget the "you". Thanks.

      Your largest question seems to be regarding Smileyface's motives, and many of your comments about clarity were particularly helpful. The character is certainly open to debate, but in my mind...

      The second of the two stories that Smileyface told Mr. Spencer was true: He lived a mostly normal life, until he gradually became warped. By what, I am unsure, but I can tell you there was no particular spectacular event that turned him into a serial killer. In my mind, the scariest possible backstory is that one day he just woke up and said "Hm. I think I'm going to go kill people." Obviously, he's warped and deranged. Mr. Spencer is incorrect, though: He's not just "crazy and evil". It seems to me that Mr. Spencer has trouble dealing with a serial killer who does not subscribe himself to one of Mr. Spencer's simplified character analysises.

      Smileyface has a very high pain threshold, but he is also very, very numb to emotion, a problem he has experienced most of his life. His murders do allow him to experience some sort of dark emotion/satisfaction, which he relishes. His primary reason, though, is that he believes (and he may well be right) that his urge to kill is deeply rooted within him, just as his urges to sleep and eat. He thinks that everyone in society has this urge, it is merely repressed while he indulges it.

      In all of your comments, you never told me whether you enjoyed the story. I hope very much that you did, and thank you for your helpful thoughts and suggestions.

      • ladynigritude
        August 25, 2007
        Edit | Reply

        You're very welcome. Anytime you need feedback, just ask! :)

        True, with all of the media coverage Smileyface would have received, his trial and all that would have happened a lot quicker than normal. I just thought it was still a tad too soon for him to be executed... But really, you never know with these sort of things, so your guess is as good as mine.

        "The second of the two stories that Smileyface told Mr. Spencer was true: He lived a mostly normal life, until he gradually became warped." - Yes, I figured this story was the true one.

        "It seems to me that Mr. Spencer has trouble dealing with a serial killer who does not subscribe himself to one of Mr. Spencer's simplified character analysises." - Ah. I could sense that in Mr. Spencer, but toward the end I wasn't entirely sure whether he was meant to be right or wrong...

        "His murders do allow him to experience some sort of dark emotion/satisfaction, which he relishes. His primary reason, though, is that he believes (and he may well be right) that his urge to kill is deeply rooted within him, just as his urges to sleep and eat. He thinks that everyone in society has this urge, it is merely repressed while he indulges it." - I see. So I did understand it correctly then...I guess my confusion was mainly because of the fact that there are two reason. I wasn't sure if one of them was a lie or not, or perhaps Smileyface didn't fully understand it himself and was making guesses, or what. Maybe you could make it more clear that his motivations WEREN'T an "either this, or this" kind of thing (as Smileyface's two presented histories were) and that BOTH were true.

        "In all of your comments, you never told me whether you enjoyed the story. I hope very much that you did, and thank you for your helpful thoughts and suggestions." - Oh dear, I did, didn't I? Well, I VERY much liked it.


  • hobo kiti
    August 13, 2007

    Edit | Reply

    Intriguing...

    If you say you don't like this story as much as your others, then I think I'm just going to have to read some more...

    I really, really liked this. I don't "do" dark stories like this so much anymore, because people mainly focus on gore, killing, it's an equivalent to porn, basically. This is so great because the focus is the character- this smileyface guy. I thought the beginning was awesome- the three types of killers... I kept thinking the whole way through, "the hell can the last kind be?" It seemed you had it pretty much covered with zealot and psycho... apparently not

    I didn't like the protagonist as much. I was kind of hoping he would die in the end. :/ but, I'm kind of wierd like that. Indiana Jones-type of main characters make me gag. I dunno, something about him was just toooo cool, if ya know what I mean? Maybe not. Great story, anyway. I'm off to read more...

    beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 4.


  • lovely nightmare
    July 28, 2007
    Edit | Reply
    Oh I've read this story before!! It's just as good now as it was then. I like the Smileyface character, and the fact that you even relate it to Hannibal in Silence of the Lambs (since you had a very Silence-of-the-lambs scenario going on). Great write, keep it up! Thank you for entering


  • EmeraldDreams
    July 23, 2007
    Edit | Reply
    Well, i have read this once before, and i still really enjoyed it second time round! lol
    Thanks for the entry


  • LiveLoveLearnDie
    June 5, 2007
    Edit | Reply

    Woow

    That is sooooo good!

    beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.

  • contrast
    May 29, 2007

    Edit | Reply

    o-m-g

    “I kill… Because it is who I am. Because it is who we all are. I am not some warped and distorted version of humanity, I am no beast: I am only a mirror. And when we look too deeply into that mirror, we don’t like what we see…”

    Wonderful!!!
    I could'nt stop reading it.
    Everything was intense, from the 'interview' part' to the article, and it had a good twist (Smileyface's escape) in it too. I really liked the dark, humourous moments of this piece and the tone of the narrative voice.
    And the above quote, well...I totally agree with it.
    I loved how you used Smileyface to reflect on human nature.
    well, well, well, well done.

  • xNothingxGoldx
    May 29, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    This story was amazing. A large part of me is intensely sorry that I entered the same contest you did.

    Smileyface's character is parallel to Hannibal Lecter himself. You did a wonderful job of making him so multi-dimensional.

    beginning: 4, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.


  • KingWolf
    May 28, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    Oh my god... WOW! Your story was in short: Amazing! I had sweat dripping down my forehead and neck. Very engrossing read and your descriptions were eloquent and beautiful. Even though the description was not as physical as some might expect, the images and emotions you left in my mind blew me away and left me looking at my own door, acutely aware to every sound that occurred. Very powerful!

    I was a little confused with the character and scene changes at first, but I quickly caught on. I have never liked murder mysteries, crime stories, or any of the like. But this just made me a fan. Good job and thank your for entering my contest.

    Are you sure you're not John Cipher yourself?


  • katiefran
    May 21, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    wow....i'm really glad that i decided to allow prewrites now! i was a little put-off when i saw how long this was, but it was worth reading very single word and it ended up not seeming quite as long.
    very, very well written. i loved both of the characters and i'm still shivering thinking about the end scene.
    when i was reading the dialouge between the gaurd and bones when smileyface got out, i had to tuck my feet up under me so that they were off of the floor!
    honestly, great job on this! thanks for the entry and good luck in my contest!


  • eyeambaldman
    May 19, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    I really like the structure of this story. The flashbacks were especially inventive. Nicely done there. I think you may need to do some research on maximum security prisons to make those scenes a bit more realistic. I find it hard to believe that Smileyface can cut through leather with a tooth and then escape. I can see possibly surprising some hillbilly guard but then making it all the way out would be extrememly difficult. I suppose you had to do it that way to get the ending you wanted, but to me it seemed a bit contrived (the escape, I mean!).

    Your prose has an excellent flow to it. Again, good job.

    • Xineph
      May 20, 2007
      Edit | Reply
      Mmm... I don't know about the escape thing. It was a stretch, but a man who can rip out a leather restraint with another man's tooth is pretty damn resourceful. And when he got a gun, he was basically home free. But thank you for the critique.


  • Rain Valie
    May 19, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    I really liked this story because it was very descriptive. It was well planned out, and now I'm like..really scared. You have a nice style of writing and it actually pulled me into the story and I sat here reading it and never wanting it to end, but it did when I scrolled down and got to the "Author notes." I got pretty disappointed there. Again to tell you I really like this story; and I didn't really find any errors. Thank you for writing this story!


  • Rosemary silver member
    May 18, 2007

    Edit | Reply

    Interesting story

    Good attention to detail.The story was was interesting and captivating. The characters were well created even though they were surreal they were beleivable. Good writing.


  • playjazz67
    May 18, 2007
    Edit | Reply

    Fantastic

    Yes, this captured my attention from the start. Beautiful description, the protagonist set well.

    At the beginning one area had you using "Smileyface" quite often when "he" might have been a better choice. Maybe a few small grammar errors but who cares?

    This is a "Silence of the Lambs" based idea yet you have told it with a reporter view. So well done!!

    beginning: 4, language: 4, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 4, characters: 4.


  • paperacid
    May 17, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    Wow, this was an awesome read. The best I have read so far on storywrite. Your intelligence in writing and word fluency is amazing.
    I figure you may want a couple tid-bits of critique though, just for helps sake? (You are indeed a god among writers, however.)

    A couple parts of the story sort of threw me. Here's one that just made me feel a bit, bleh, if you know what I mean, as if the dialogue itself could have kept its 'depth', in the mass of amazing writing.
    -“Look… I don’t want to alarm you, but Smileyface got out.”
    'Got Out', to me, seemed kind of...Lacking, I guess. It seemed as if they would have said something different. As in, escaped, or something else I guess.

    The entire time I was reading this story I kept placing myself in front of a mental movie screen and it played out wonderfully. The only other thing I might be able to say is, that, despite it's amazing literacy and accuracy on many things (I love the psychology/law references you so correctly used), it seemed too 'normal', for me. And, I don't mean that in some demented way. It merely seemed to follow a similar plot-line, and the characters themselves seemed influenced by previous writes/movies, such as Silence of the Lambs, which you did reference in the story.


    I think, altogether though, that you have an AMAZING talent, and this story deservestwo thumbs up in literacy and decency alone. Exellent job!

    ((BTW: the begining of the story is what REALLY captured me. Your introduction REALLY seduced me (as well as you exit)! Thanks!))

    beginning: 5, language: 3, plot: 2, ending: 4, dialog: 2, characters: 3.

    • Xineph
      May 18, 2007
      Edit | Reply

      Thanks.

      I'll try to work on the whole, "linear plot thing". But I'd just like to mention that the use of "got out" is Joe Hendricks' character, showing how he's not very professional or good at his job. Thank you!


  • Phantasmix
    May 16, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    All of the writing in this passage actually made me tear up at how wonderful it was to read. I didn't mind the word count, a story is a story. I liked how exciting/enticing your story was and how everything just sorta fit into place. I loved your story. Look at all the points you got from it as well! Great job dude. Keep up the writing because I'd love to see more of it. ~ZeroKiryu. Message me!


  • TheBlueRoad
    May 15, 2007

    Edit | Reply

    Very Realistic

    To be honest, I am impressed with your age and the maturity in the story. The story is very believable and yes, very memorable.

    John Cipher... is one character that has a huge meaning in the story. I thought very deeply about him. He said, "I can kill because I can." I had to agree with him. I can't and won't kill because I definitely don't like killing and I don't have the wits to, lol. John can kill because he can. Why? Well, his brutal father and sisters who sexually abused him. They gave Cipher this ability to kill.

    What struck me in the head is that John Cipher broke loooooooose from prison and ran straight to Mr. Spencer JUST to tell him why he kill. Man, that was crazy. I never expect that. I thought he is just gonna get executed and that's it. You got a crazed-smartass creative mind, no kidding!

    You portrayed these characters very detailed. I like how you make description and their thoughts.

    Straight on, this rocks!

    beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.

    • Xineph
      May 15, 2007
      Edit | Reply

      Thank you! But....

      I don't like commenting or explaining my work too much, because I think art has been partially ruined by too many director's commentaries. I prefer to leave it up to the audience. That said...

      Thank you for all of your comments, but one important thing about Cipher's character is this: As the writer, I am dead positive that John's "real" childhood was the second, and not the first. The whole point of the formulaic story about an evil family is to show Cipher's character, and how he knows the media would rather portray him as a monstrous villain than a regular human driven to extremes. But that is exactly what he is, and, in my mind, that's what makes him so scary.

  • EmeraldDreams
    May 15, 2007
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    WOW! this is absolutely amazing! i love serial killer stories anyway, be them real or fiction, but this was amazing!

    the character of smileyface was terrifyingly believable. reality is always scarier than fiction, and that is what makes it so scary.....because it actually happens.

    i really am blown away by this piece, its amazing.

    beginning: 5, language: 4, plot: 4, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.

  • sodancewithsoda silver member
    May 13, 2007
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    I have a VERY short attention span - the smallest things distract me, shiny objects distract me most. And I read AND finished this at 7 or 8 am, when I normally should be still sleeping so, I should ask you, do I think this is a great story?

    Back during my college corporate speech class, we were "given tips" on how to maintain or catch your audience's attention. One of them was "to give a new information" that most of them have probably never known before - something which you did. VERY well. *claps* I admit that (listing the 3 types of killers) was a huge reason why I kept reading ^_^

    Also...
    Gender...
    in most stuff I read on this site and elsewhere, I often wonder what gender the narrator is... ^_^ In here, I immediately knew that the one telling the story was indeed a guy - and I really have to commend you for that because writers, myself included, sometimes fail to fully convince the readers that the character IS really a guy or a girl(I'm not sure if you understand what I'm saying x.x ). But to "sound" and "read" like a guy or that it is from a guy's point of view, BEFORE the real gender is disclosed, is just.. something great writers could do ^_^

    Your dialogues.. you handled them well... they even go well with your scenes and flashbacks.. and... this could work out as a mini-story (I imagined it as such in my mind, as I read ^_^)

    Oh, one final thing.. as I read this, I kept thinking of the article I read some years back (from Reader's Digest), written by a woman who worked with THE Ted Bundy (she was not "attacked" because she did not fall under the criteria of women that Ted Bundy often went for)... I think your interviewer's point of view could pass off as a REAL one since, well, you DID remind me of the actual account of someone who DID speak and know a real serial killer.

    I am just.. completely envious of your writing.. But yes, that's a good thing I'm sorry I can't offer much constructive criticism since my own writing is deeply falwed (and I didn't really see anything to be "corrected" here)

    Please write more, and we'll read more Thank YOU for sharing this with us ^_^ Hope to read more

  • MDavid
    May 6, 2007

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    You say you are looking for constructive criticism then here is some for you. Every now and then, whether by accident or design we do something that is praiseworthy and truly admired by others. Some may be easily impressed and have no discernable taste when it comes to literature. However, I can see by the awards you've already won that the majority of opinion is that this story was very well done. My suggestion is to be just as gracious when you are praised or complimented because I can assure you I wouldn't have sat through 6k story because I'm into pain.

    Yes, a story about a serial killer has been done over and over, but your story has within the broad scope originality. I did like the scene breaks which told other sides of the story and I had thought I would have put them in a differnt order than you had them. I like things chronological.

    The MOST impressive to me was how clean, neat, and tight, was your writing style. Stories come and go, but the way you wrote it seemed to be completely professional, well polished, making me wonder what is your age and writing background.

    I would only hope there are other entries that will reach the level of this story.

    Well done.

    beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.

    • Xineph
      May 7, 2007
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      Thank you very much.

      I very much appreciate that. I do try to be gracious with praise and criticism alike, but I can't always respond to praise because my response is basically "OMG THANKS!".

      And in answer to your question, I'm 14.

      That said, your comment was very helpful. It's not often I see constructive praise as opposed to constructive criticism, and yours was a mix of both. Thanks.

  • LostShadow silver member
    May 2, 2007

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    This was very well done...I thank you for msging me about the lenght it was a good idea since being way over the limit...Thanks for that...

    The story was great, it kept my interest all the way through (even though it took a while)The wording and flow was great. I see it has won many other trophies so very nicely done

    Thank you for entering and good luck in the contest.

    Keep up the great writting.

    Em


  • Andy Stephenson gold member
    April 28, 2007

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    Very good

    I wasn't certain at first that this story would keep my interest during its full length, but it did. I see that you have won many trophies with it. You may win another in this contest. Good story.

    Andy


  • asthray.heart
    April 23, 2007

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    WOW

    This was awesome, took me a long time to read bit wow. I am speechless this was so good.
    Thnk you for entering this The wording and the ending it all came together and bang, wow what a story.
    *Will stop ranting now*

    Wishn you well and all that stuff my dear, good luck too.


    Lady Madeline.

    (awesome write)


  • Delfishie
    April 23, 2007

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    Hah!

    What a bunch of useless idiots those prison guards were!

    "That’s all he does is laugh hysterically, like a maniac. He does this for a good five minutes, so I figure now would be a good time to take a piss."

    Dude! You have a INSANE, super STRONG serial killer and the SINGLE guard leaves him alone to PEE!?!?!?!

    And then, later on in the story, he escapes because apparently his only restraints are LEATHER!!!!!

    Dude, what sort of prison is this? S&M Leather and Idiots Prison for Men with Small Bladders? What, do they hire prison guards based on how high they can count before using their FINGERS?

    Argh!

    Um....heh. Okay. I kinda got a LITTLE to into the story, there. But still! It's a valid complaint! And it's the same complaint that I had with the original Saw movie.

    Did you see that one?

    If not, let me explain it: A serial killer kills people using ornate boobytraps. The cops find out where he lives, but instead of calling for backup, the TWO of them enter the serial killer's building that is FULL of boobytraps! Gosh! Who would have suspected THAT?

    Suffice to say, the killer escapes from the cops. Amazing, huh?

    The reason I'm focusing on this petty detail is because the rest of your story was awesome, as is usual in your stories. I liked how real you made Reporter Guy and how well-made his personality was.

    And I REALLY loved the ending. I can't stand it when the killer goes free in these sorta super-human-killing-machine stories, so it was awesome that he was the only person who could take himself down.

    Oh! And I wanted the dead prostitute to rise from the grave and rip his balls off with her teeth. You claim to have a high threshold for pain, Johnny boy? Let's see how brave you are as a soprano!

    ...Um. That last bit probably wouldn't fit into your story. Heh.

    Great job. Thanks for entering the contest.

    • Xineph
      April 23, 2007
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      Del, I love you because you're the only person I can count on for constructive criticism. Where everybody else is just like "OMGAWESOMEZ", which doesn't help me at all, you actually give me useful information. Thank you

      In my defense though, how would Joe Hendricks know how ridiculously strong Smileyface is? They've only heard stories of sadism and murder, not of strength.

      And the leather restraints are because of what I've seen of portrayal of mental institutions: The patient is always strapped down, not chained down. And leather is strong! Have you ever tried to tear through leather?! Hence the Wilk being "just a step above a prison for the criminally insane". And no, I haven't seen Saw.

      Thanks again!


  • On.Cue
    April 13, 2007
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    Wow. That is all I can say. It is very well written!!! Wow. Amazing. =)


  • roars-in-public
    April 10, 2007

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    ...you mean i never commented yet? Agh...

    Your first four paragraphs are very professional sounding. Like… a seasoned detective who has, in fact, had a chance to encounter both types of killers. Bravo – you sound like you know what’s going on, and that’s cool.
    I am also loving your descriptions.
    ‘Endgame’ I find, is a cool expression – or whatever you used it as.
    I don’t know why, but I have a feeling that William Golding would _love_ you. Or at least Mr. Cipher’s Philosophies.
    I also noticed that at the last moment, the narrator finally thinks of ‘Smileyface’ as John Cipher. Whether or not you did that for effect, I perceived it as such, and thus, you get bonus marks.

  • Kitzwa
    April 4, 2007

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    This story was completely and utterly perfect. I loved your characters. I'm often fascinated by serial killers and Smileyface just seems so real. My attention was grabbed right from the beginning, and you held it right to the end. It's too bad Smileyface had to die (be did have to die, I understand that), he's such an interesting character though, it would have been cool to see what you could do with him. The last sentence is absolutely perfect. Just the idea that he doesn't smile until he kills himself. He reminds me a lot of a Hannibal Lector who doesn't smile. It's stories like this that make me jealous and wish that I could write like this. Keep writing and I would be crazy if I didn't make you a finalist in my contest.


  • Oblivion Kitty God silver member
    April 3, 2007

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    This was a very good story, if somewhat long. I don't mind long stories, but my contest rules requested nothing longer than 5,000 words. Nonetheless, this was a good story and I liked it. Good job. I didn't noticed any errors - and that's not exactly easy to accomplsih, but then I'm not too good at spotting them, anyway. Thanks for entering my contest. I'll let you know if you story is a finalist


  • yumesandman
    April 2, 2007

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    I. Loved. This.

    The rotation between the first-person interview and the third-person flashbacks was the really nice touch, and over all the piece was very enjoyable to read. The first section, where you had the journalist describe the different types of killers irked me a bit, mainly because I didn't agree with some of it, but a little adversity in writing certainly never hurt anyone.

    Ren and Stimpy was distinguished?

    Oh, and pure white walls hurt the eyes- thus the biege. Hehehe.

    So over all very very good. You did an excellent job on this, and save for a few minor "huh?" moments it read well.


  • EtherealButterfly
    March 24, 2007

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    This is a really good story, but I had to remove you because you've only got 1 trophy, if you get another trophy (gold, silver, bronze) by or before April 13, you can re-enter. I'm really sorry.


  • Zaedyns Mommy
    March 21, 2007
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    wow this was very well written, good luck.


  • Gbanger
    March 19, 2007

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    Simply Amazing

    When I first starting reading this I really didn't think I would like it. I don't like stories that involve murder, crime of mystery but it really surprised me when I felt the need to continue reading this.
    There wasn't one piece of this I didn't like, it was a masterfully told story.
    Beautiful craftsmanship with the plot, I've never read anything quite like it.
    Great work.

    beginning: 3, language: 5, plot: 4, ending: 4, dialog: 4, characters: 4.

  • strangledbysolitude
    March 15, 2007

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    Wow, I really liked this story. It was long but well worth the read. I never lost interest. I absolutly love the ending. Great work!

  • halo4277
    March 15, 2007
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    your poem about cats is more gentle. you seem to think cats are less cynical =D


  • The Wall
    March 12, 2007

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    Noooo!!!! You can't do that!!!!
    That's just cruel to leave it at that point in the plot!!! Finish it! Please!


  • darkpaintedreams
    March 8, 2007

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    Oh Wow. I just wanted to say thank you for entering my contest. It took a while to read the whole story, but damn it was worth it. That was awesome. Your an amazing author, awesome job. I loved everything about the story. Again, awesome job, and good luck.

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