Chapter Four: Into the Mind of a Madman
Marvin Predjin was in his house devising his plan for vindication. He had a dry erase board, and was furiously writing on it. He kept all of his calculations in his head. It turned out that many psychotic geniuses had eidetic recollection. That way, no one could copy their notes. In Marvin’s case, the police would have no evidence to convict him. He was free to devise.
He was creating another dastardly plan to find another couple. He had to think of where two people, family or friends, would meet.
His twisted logic of thinking stated that if he killed in twos, his herculean task of cleansing he earth would be shorter.
Marvin was a mixed child of a Xhosa tribe female, and a South African British man. He followed the ways of the Khambata, a branch of Xhosa. He didn’t know of British culture because his father was just a conqueror of a native woman. He had his way, and just left her high and dry for Great Brittan without concern of any consequences he left behind. Marvin was one of those consequences.
His mother, Nonyameko, named him after his elusive father, or at least what he said his name was. Marvin became a native Khambatan. He followed the Khambatan God, uQamata.
The philosophy of their supreme being was purity, to repent to stay healthy. Marvin’s psychosis misconstrued that philosophy.
After he traveled to Port Elizabeth in the Eastern Cape of South Africa, and saw all the atrocities, and the segregation of apartheid, His mind became set on being a vindicator.
He began to study the world to see who needed to be cleansed the most. He found that the land of the free, the United States, was in desperate need of vindication. He hopped a fishing boat to make some money to get on a cruise liner to the USA.
When he arrived in California, he decided to go deeper into the country. He did odd jobs to get more money to get on a bus to Leavenworth Kansas. It was a suburb of Kansas City.
Marvin studied to become a citizen of America. He lived in the library. He saw all the history of the United States, and learned of all the wars, and even the national anthem was war like. The country was birthed from violence.
The Native Americans once flourished in their own country, but now live in segregated areas called reservations. The Chinese were brought there to work on the railroads, and the Africans, his people, were enslaved, and made to pick cotton, and build the nation. It became official for Marvin. The Europeans raped everything for their pleasure.
He studied for citizenship, but secretly planned to vindicate the country. Every American was worthy of vindication. It didn’t matter you ethnicity. If you were a proud American, you deserved your fate. You were fine to live in a country based from blood.
That was what Marvin thought. He didn’t realize that the country had gone through its growing pains, and only radicals believed in the separation of the country now. They were the country’s only creaks in the joints for that aspect.
Once Marvin learned of all the atrocities of America, it reminded him of the atrocities of South Africa. His goal became solidified.
Marvin was an artist, and a painter. He began to paint houses, and create family portraits. He also taught at Algonquin Art Technical College for a semester. If his mind wasn’t corrupt, he could have lived a lucrative life, but his mind was on one track with no merges for success. Even when Winthrop Condominiums contracted him to paint all of their condominiums, and he became the name in the housing community, His mind was still laser focused.
He had made enough money to get a house in Leavenworth. It was a larger house equipped with a basement. He painted portraits upstairs, and constructed a torture chamber in his basement. He concealed it, and made an alternate fruit shed for deception. It took a while to complete it, but there was no deadline, or covertness. He had no spouse.
Immediate pleasure wasn’t important to him, and the street walkers were disgusting in his eyes. Vindication was the priority.
His only weakness was his allergy to certain metals in his mouth. He went to eat at a posh restraint one evening, and almost gagged from a silver fork. He had never ate his food with a silver utensil, and it caused severe anaphylactic shock. He was in the hospital for a week being pumped with antibiotics to stay healthy. His determination didn’t augment. Even though the doctors saved his life, his gratitude became alleviating them from this vile country. When a mind becomes damaged with psychotic animosity, it will show no rationality.
Once his self-made dungeon was created, he went hunting. His first victims were a couple of girlfriends jogging in Kleiko Park. They were listening to music being oblivious to the horrors of this country. They would be the first to be vindicated. He had perused crime scene photos in a detective magazine, and read of the police procedures. He knew how not to get caught. If criminals did a bit of homework, they would be elusive as well. He watched too many crime dramas, and thought the detectives always got their man. That fallacy just made him more scrupulous.
After he vindicated the women, he positioned them in a ghastly posture, and painted them. It was his cure for stress, and the grisly portrait became the beginning of his collection to hang in the basement so the others would see what would be done to them.
He was looking for others he had to vindicate, and saw a movie theater. That would be his next target. Yes he was crazy. Crazy in that fox motif. He began to calculate. Afterwards, he would wipe clean his board. The same way he would wipe clean his next victims from this country.