Intro
Being stabbed 27 times is a feeling I’ve never experienced, but I can imagine (pretty accurately) what it feels like for I have come close to that number. I don’t care who you are, what type of person you are, what you like to do at 3:00 a.m in the morning; But I’ll tell you this if you are stabbed 27 times there is a guarantee you will scream. I know what you are thinking, I obviously don’t need to tell you this. This is common sense to you right? You don’t need to be stabbed to know it’s going to hurt.
Imagine if I were to corner you in the alleyway of New York one night, overpower you and pin you, and then proceed to impale you, jabbing and jabbing at you with the knife. I bet you would scream right? Obviously, but then again, I suppose that is not something you would like to imagine.
On the other hand, it makes you think. You may think to yourself, I guess it also depends on the size of the knife, the style, how the edges are, the ridges and points and the make and brand. To that, I say: suppose I was to try to stab you with a butter knife versus a trench knife. You see, a butter knife is clearly not meant to be designed for stabbing, I may not even be able to impale you with the butter knife and might just awkwardly (and painfully) saw away at you for hours and hours. This process to kill you might take days, weeks even. Whereas if I used the trench knife, a war knife specifically designed for defending oneself against enemies, it would be far more effective. Your death might even be quick, hopefully. The obvious choice is to use the sharper knife because like I said I want to stab you to death not saw at you.
Perhaps there is the thought of, what if I’m a maniac and want to make it last long for you, then the butter knife would be the choice. Now all this thinking is pretty gruesome. I’m not a maniac anymore, I swear and I would never torture a person again. I vow to never inflict this type of murderous sadistic pain on someone else. I would never want to be stabbed 27 times, why would I want to do it to someone else?
Which begs the question, what is the reason murderers do what they do? I’m talking about serial killers and villainous inhumane monsters that belong on death row. The maniacs that can’t be figured out. I was asked this question once. Why did you do it? I recall that day. I looked into the detective’s big brown inquiring eyes and said simply, “I don’t know.”
Maybe there is no reason to do inhumane acts of torture. Maybe I’ll corner you in the alley because I don’t know, I just feel like it. Maybe I can’t help but stab you 27 times with the butter knife that I had in my lunch box. Maybe it’s just the way I was born and it can’t be helped.
Like a rabies infected dog maybe it’s best I be caught and put down. For if I feel the curious need to inflict pain for the reason of I don’t know, I need to be on death row, right? Maybe I want to be put down. What if I have these feelings and can’t control them I want to be put down? Do some criminals think this way? Heck, sometimes I wish I was put down then put in this situation. Karma is a weird thing.
I have dedicated my life to these questions, I have searched for answers for reasons why. I spend my life alone in my little New York apartment overlooking the grim city, below, the view of an alleyway which I peer down upon from my little window.
Here I am in my own little world of 27 stabbings and wondering why? Why did they do it? What is the purpose of this string of clues and leadings and calling cards? Are they seriously having fun playing with my mind?
I don’t understand, I try to think of every possibility, I look at every angle from the perspective of the killer and the perspective of the victim. The victim: 27 stabbings and they would scream. I would scream, you would scream. Yet no one reported a sound. Killer: 27 stabbings with what type of weapon? Was it to satisfy sadistic needs? The victims don’t seem to be connected!
I want to scream. Everyone thinks I can solve this, “Come on Bruce. You think like them. I saw the glint in your eye when you saw the body, something ravenous.” Detective Gordon. Loves to put this whole case on me, loading the pressure on me, the price I pay for my mistakes. You can do this. Solve this case for us. Why does it seem like I’m the only one being productive! All these puzzles being put down! I should be able to solve this. Maybe then I will be forgiven. Maybe then I can forgive myself.
Think Detective Wayne! Think!
