Don't Kill It Page #3

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I tell people what I do,

they just sit there,

looking dumbstruck or laugh.

Then they gotta see something

on their own that proves it.

Maybe they see me pull one

of these things out of their son

his body twitching

and flapping in ways

the human body ought

not to do.

Or they see their momma

looking back

with those dead,

black eyes.

Or sometimes,

they never do come around.

That is, until they

get possessed themselves

and feel indescribable

pain and fear

that comes

with losing control

of your body

as your conscious self,

your soul, burns and evaporates

into the abyss,

like you never was.

Now, every once

in a while,

I'll meet someone,

or maybe a pair of folks

that aren't so thickheaded and

think that it's pure coincidence

that I end up here

in the middle of f***ing nowhere

and without asking,

know exactly

the patterns

of the murders in question.

And when those people

put their trust in me

and just let their doubts

aside, then

lives are saved,

lives that would've been lost

had I just got tossed

out of here

and have to do

all this sh*t on my own.

But, you know, sometimes,

the lives saved are their own.

Now,

having heard that,

are you gonna hear

me out?

Are you?

Are you gonna hear

me out?

Make sure you keep

an eye on him.

Where are you

off to?

None of your business.

The eyes.

Ask about the eyes.

Kind of...Dark in here.

See if I can find

the light.

Pretty messy, huh?

Do you have those pictures?

Yeah.

This is the daughter here?

Yeah. That's her.

And that's the son over there?

Yup, that's him.

And Mr. banks

killed them both?

No, he shot

the daughter.

Father shot this one--

--after shooting Mr. banks.

You're saying he

killed him

and then killed his own kid?

Yeah.

Doesn't make any sense.

Well...

You said there was

a live witness on this?

Yup.

I'm gonna need

to talk to them.

Mrs. macullum?

My name is Evelyn Pierce,

I'm with the FBI.

Is it all right if I come in

and have a word with you?

I'm really sorry

to disturb you.

I know you're going through

a terrible ordeal.

I just need to ask you

a few questions.

They always used to fight.

Who? Who used to fight?

Benjamin and Bethany.

So rambunctious.

They could ruin

an entire house

if you didn't keep

an eye on them.

Those--

were those your kids?

I used to scream

at them.

I'd get so angry.

But I didn't want them

hurting each other.

I didn't want them

growing up so...

Violently.

But they were just playing.

That was not violence.

I never knew what

violence was.

Mrs. macullum, I just need you

to tell me what happened--

I think about all the times

i sent them to their room.

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