As the blood yet again stained the pure white keys of his Bosendorfer piano he didn’t feel a thing. Lately he had fallen into a rut. As he walked over to his fridge and made the 99th mark on his sheet, he began to wonder if he would ever feel the same feeling he had in the beginning. 26 years of killing had taken a toll on him. He went to the sink and looked up into his gold-plated mirror. His heart dropped yet again as he took in his weak, wrinkled appearance. He still could not believe it. He had played that message a thousand times since he had received it. Cancer. 2 weeks. These were the only two things he heard anymore.
The piano had been his entire world. Since the age of 5 it had fascinated him. The different ways he could manipulate the keys to make beautiful music began to enthrall his life. It was almost inevitable that he would love the piano. Both his mother and father had been concert pianists and had sold millions of copies of their piano how-to books. His parents told him that he was even better than the two of them combined. He was set to go to Julliard in a year and a half on full scholarship although he could care less about the scholarship. His parents had inherited millions from his grandfather, a business tycoon who could sell ice to an Eskimo. He could not be happier with the way his life was going. This was, until the day that changed his life forever.
He woke up to the sound of his mother screaming. In his normal happy family screaming was unusual so he knew something was wrong. When he got to the bottom of the spiral staircase the screaming had stopped. He stood at the doorway, afraid to open it. After a few minutes he finally worked up the courage to slowly creak open the door. He dropped to his knees and started bawling. His mother’s face was pressed against her favorite piano in a pool of blood. How could someone do this? He was never the same after this. He captured and killed his first victim a week later. He placed the victims head in the same position his mom had been in and he felt a sudden warmth come upon him. This was what he was meant to do, he realized. 26 years later he was a master criminal, paid millions for every hit. It was becoming old to him, though. The extreme warmth he had felt during his first kill had faded to almost nothing. He decided he had to change something to make it fun again.
He suddenly realized who he wanted to take next. He hopped in his Porsche and speeded to his next victim’s house. After this, his criminal instincts kicked in. He was in and out in less than a minute. As he sped home, he looked over to his blindfolded passenger. He smiled. He had really outdone himself this time. Suddenly it began to rain. What a way to ruin a perfect day he muttered as he put the top up on his Porsche. As he pulled into his driveway, something seemed different. He could not figure out what it was though. Whatever, he thought, nothing can ruin the finale. He took the victim into his living room and ripped off his blindfold. He smiled an evil smile. He pushed him down on his piano seat and jumped on top of him. He was going make this one good. As he pulled out his gun, he heard a pounding on the door. “John, we are from the FBI open up the door or we will kick it in.” Suddenly there were a dozen FBI agents busting into his house. He quickly put a gun to his victim’s head. He knew it was over, though. As the FBI agents tried to talk him into putting the gun down, he realized what he really wanted. “I am tired of all of this, I want to see my mom” he said. He then turned the Glock away from his dad’s head and put it to his own and fired.