Short story I

Once upon a time, there was a man who sat in his study desk while examining an interior decoration magazine that included a special article about the Top 10 Mass Murderers of all time. Suddenly he realized how bored he was with his life and concluded that engaging on a binge of blood and murder would be a huge relief for his boredom. Therefore he took some money he had lef over the microwave so his wife could pay the bills and strolled to the city’s antique store where he bought a Samurai Katana.

Upon paying for his new product, he drew out the curved sword and slained the store owner. In his surprise, the man was unable to shout and died silently. Excited by the drops of blood that had stained his face, our new murderer went out into the street in search of a new victim to continue with his awful plan. Sadly, and elder woman had decided that single day to take a walk with his little grandson through the park. Before the boy could realize, he was penetrated by a sharp and curve blade. As he fell to the ground, her grandmother’s throat was slit. She died above her grandchild’s corpse.

These murders had surely brought the attention to the spot. Within minutes, a group of people had cautiously approached, staring horrified at the bloody bodies. Many bystanders had also called the police, which failed to appear at the crime scene for at least ten more minutes. Dying to get more blood in his hands, our killer used wisely these ten minutes to kill two more old persons, an unsuspecting ice-cream seller, a dog, a cat and three pigeons.
Three police units arrived simultaneously and screeched their tires into a hasty stop, now surrounding the suspect. He was ordered to put down the sword. He immediately did.

But just then, three silent ninjas fell from the sky and just behind the three gun-wielding cops that surrounded our previously bored man. Blood filled the boulevard as it emerged as a fountain from the collapsing cops. The four of the Katana masters now got into one of the police cars and headed south down the avenue.
It was not long before a whole caravan of police cars followed them at full speed, and a helicopter had them at their sight. As they took the highway to leave the city, the cops in cars started to shoot at them; they knew, nevertheless, how to avoid the incoming bullets.

In no time, our heroes had lost the police trail. Their adventure of blood and horror continued all across the country, slaying people in some town, peacefully passing by across others, until three months later, they decided it was time to say goodbye.

In the middle of a red desert, they bid farewell and promised they would never see each other again. Our protagonist decided it was high time he got home by now: his family was probably waiting for him.