Jehovah'S Witnesses

A 1-post collection

Challenge #00711 - A346: Saved!

Serial killer (real Hannibal Lechter-type) turns himself in to the authorities a sobbing wreck after months of being hounded by a pair of REALLY persistent Jehova’s Witnesses.

Every serial killer makes one big mistake, and for Kevin Leerie, that mistake was answering the door one peaceful morning to the door-to-door evangelists.

“Have you heard the good word of our lord and saviour Jesus Christ?”

“Rack off,” said Kevin, and slammed the door.

He should have pretended he wasn’t home, but no. That day, he had been expecting a courier parcel and therefore raised their interest. Something about him must have said ‘poor lost soul’.

They popped by.


They took advantage of his malfunctioning peephole and may have sabotaged it themselves. There was no proof, of course. Kevin’s landlord was already a lying asshole in near-permanent fifth place on his little murder list.

These two? They were trying to do good. He could not, in all good conscience, eliminate them like he did the very scum of humanity. Therefore, he had to put up with them at least twice a week.

“Are you prepared for the coming apocalypse?”

“Did you know that Christ is planning the End of Days?”

“Do you know what happens to you after you die?”

“Have you secured your mansion in heaven?”

They wouldn’t go away. Not even when he answered the door naked, covered in blood, and carrying a carving knife. Though their smiles were rather fixed and nervous, that day.

“There is still time to save your soul.”

“You can repent at any time.”

“Welcome Jehovah into your heart and be cleansed!”

They were relentless.

They were driving him to distraction.

And worst, they always seemed to chance on him shortly before or shortly after a kill. Hunting became fraught with the risk of them raising an alarm.

The only way out… was through.

Which was why, one peaceful weekend morning, Kevin gave them the keys to his house and car, saying only: “I won’t need these any more,” before he took a leisurely stroll down to the police station to confess.

It was rather relaxing, really. Inside a prison cell, none of them could get to him.

[Muse food remaining: 17. Submit a promptAsk a questionBuy my stories!]