Jack-

I'm in one of the most famous American cities, broke, with no home nor friends or family. I could kick it with the homeless people of the streets or try to find someway to make some quick cash, but I don't know how. I walk down one of the more busy streets of L.A., which wasn't hard to find, and found a group of homeless people, huddling near a fire. The flight was long and after exploring the city for awhile, I was left empty handed late in the middle of the night.

"You cold, kid?" One of them asked and I nodded. They made space for me to join the circle they created around the fire.

"Thank you very much," I said genuinely, the one I started talking with giving me a small smile. He stuck his hand out to me, showing his fingerless gloves that looked as though they've been worn out for years.

"M' name's Mac," He introduced himself and I shook his hand, wondering if I should tell him my name or not.

"I'm Jack," I decided to give him a childhood nickname and decided that would suffice.

"Good to meet ya, kid. Whatcha doin' out here so late? Got nowhere else to go?" Mac asked and I shook my head. "Where ya from?"

"Ireland. I flew in earlier today," I explained vaguely before realizing I didn't answer all of his questions. I felt it was only respectful to indulge in conversation considering he was allowing me to stand with him and his group to warm up. "I... I ran away from home. It's kind of a long story."

"I see. You're too young to be livin' like this, kid," He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Ya gotta be careful around these parts. We're right on the edge of some killer's land."

"Killer?" I frowned.

"Yeah, kid. There's some maniac goin' round and murderin' randoms. Hasn't been caught yet," He informed me and I nodded slightly, unsure what to do. I was admittedly scared, but didn't want to show it. "It's okay to be scared, kid. We all are."

"You are?"

"Of course. We may live rough, but some of us are still afraid of the dark. This scares us all," He admitted and I bit my bottom lip. "You'll be fine though, kid."

"I sure hope so," I frowned and looked back at the fire, wondering if this was where I was going to be sleeping for the night. I had my backpack still slung around my back, which was beginning to hurt from the weight, and made me feel as though it wouldn't be too bad to spend the night out here. "Do you mind if I sleep near you tonight?"

"Sure thing, kid. No problem at all," He assured me and I sighed thankfully, warming my cold hands against the fire. I'm not sure if this is my life now, but either way, it's much better than my life back with my abusive parents.

~

Mark-

"Fuck," I swore after I accidentally cut my finger on a knife. The sight of blood caused images of people I've killed to flash through my head. I shook my head roughly, as if it could get rid of the past itself. The images went away and I sighed, going to get a bandaid.

I patched up the small wound and gave up on cooking. I had hardly started, so there wasn't much to clean up. I debated eating a pack of instant noodles or to just go get take out, which sounded marginally more appealing, but it, of course, came with the risk of possibly murdering some unsuspecting stranger. There's the off chance I may successfully make my trip without getting anyone hurt, which was enough to convince me to go when combining it with the angry growling from my stomach.

It's extremely late out, but it doesn't matter to me. There's a few 24 hour places in the city I could go to. I hoped not many people were out, as I've realized I become more angry around big crowds and some people's personalities tend to set me off into another blackout, where I'd wake up back at their place, them dead on the ground.

I'd hear or read the news the next day, claiming most of the recent murders around L.A. have been random killings and are not the works of a serial killer because it shows no pattern and happens at random. I wish I could work up the courage to expose myself, but I simply couldn't. I didn't want to disappoint the fans on YouTube or scare my family, I can't even imagine the faces of my friends after realizing I've become a killer who has some sort of mental disorder.

I headed out to my car and sat in the driver's seat, turning it on and keeping it in park for a while longer as I toyed with the bandaid on my finger. I have a terrible feeling I'm going to do something, but I don't think I'm going to end up killing anyone - which is a bizarre thought, considering I haven't done anything but kill. I haven't robbed or beaten anyone or anything like that - as far as I know, that is. I just have a weird feeling about tonight that feels different than all the others.

Nevertheless, I decided it'd be fine. Maybe the different feeling means I won't hurt anyone at all tonight. The thought made me smile a bit as I decided to start driving, turning on a local rock radio that I felt was better to listen to than the others at the moment. It'll be nice getting some real food in me for once and not just dehydrated noodles that will kill me someday if I don't change my habits. Tonight feels good, like it'll be the best one in a while. I can't explain it at all, but I'd rather not fight it. Hopefully things go smoothly.