《Hollow Degeneration》 Prologue, Degeneration. Prologue, Degeneration. ¡­
¡­ ¡°You have brain cancer.¡± Ezra closed his door, swinging his keys around his finger. He exhaled, a defeated look on his face as he stepped forward. He approached his house with a whistle. That was something he did often. Ezra Masse seemed to be tired, but not entirely devastated. You wouldn''t have guessed he was just diagnosed with a life threatening disease. But it wasn''t his first time. On four different occasions, Ezra Masse had been diagnosed with brain cancer. And each time, he went home with a sigh, carelessly moving on with his day. Any other person would be broken, with such news. But Ezra was unshaken. He stepped up the stairs, finding his way onto his porch. He shifted his keys within his hands, aiming it towards the front door. "Ezra!" He heard a shout from his side. Rather reluctantly, he dropped his hand down. "Are you serious?..." He sighed, annoyed. "Work got you caught up?" He glanced over, looking at the man peaking over his picket fence. He wore a straw hat, with sunglasses equipped. It was his neighbor, Will. The aged rich man, with a family he spoiled to the best of his abilities. "Indeed it has... Being a teacher has its downsides." Ezra replied with a smile. He nodded brightly towards the man, turning back towards his door and lifting up his keys once more. "Yeah I get that... I''ve been thinking about becoming a substitute. Could be something to fill up my free time with." Will spoke, Ezra nervously smiling. "Yeah... Good idea." He chuckled, turning the key and pushing his door open. "Oh I was hoping you coul-" The door swung shut behind him, drowning out his neighbors words. "Shut the fuck up, God." Ezra sighed, shoving his keys into his pocket and striding through the hallway entrance to his house. He entered the living room, gazing upon a furniture-less room. It was covered in clear tarp, not a single part of the room being left uncovered. On the tarp was a seat, a camera pointed towards it. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. He made his way towards said camera, toying with it for a moment. In a masterful fashion, it was turned on, and recording had started. Tiredly, he moved to the stool within camera view, slowly taking a seat. "Well..." He exhaled, staring into the lens. "This is the fourth time I have been diagnosed with cancer." He announced. "I am your father, Ezra Masse, if you don''t already know. As of now, I am twenty four years old, and you are five. Your mother is still alive and well, kicking hard at the ripe age of twenty five." He smiled. "I''m sure you have made the inference, but I''m making these tapes for a reason." He closed his eyes. "I am a serial killer..." ...
... It was dark, but of course the lights were still on inside. Ezra closed the front door behind him, this setting being slightly different from before. His real house was in a totally different neighborhood. He glanced around the front room, his eyes landing on an image resting on a table to his left. It was knocked over. He didn''t like that. With a sigh he fixed the picture, propping it up. It was a picture of him and his wife, their daughter sitting happily in his arms. "Hi dad!" A voice sounded from in front of him, making him face forwards. "Hi So!" He smiled brightly, dropping his bag and kneeling. His daughter came trotting over, jumping into his arms. He gave her a hug, lifting her up and relentlessly kissing her cheek. "Auh, stopp!" She giggled, Ezra slowly setting her down. He retrieved his bag, taking note of the figure that stood in the doorway to the living room as he rose back up. "And greetings, my queen Sasha ." His smile brightened even further, patting his daughter''s head as he stepped by her. With his arms swung wide open, he grabbed his wife, ignoring her annoyed smile. He crushed her, holding rather tight. "Okay okay! Greetings to you too, my wondrous Ezra!" She chuckled, trying to break free of his bear hug. Despite not being very bulky, Ezra was far stronger than most could imagine... A slim man that stood well over six foot. He had a sharp jaw line, and a decently large nose. There was short black hair on his head, almost in a bowl shape but far more scruffy. His eyes drooped at their ends, making him look perpetually uninterested. But when he smiled, you could hardly see where he was looking. It was clear that there was some sort of Asian in him at the very least. From behind, Ezra could hear his daughter giggling, her little feet pattering against the floor as she ran up on the two. "Let go of her!" She fought with a smile, pulling at her fathers leg. Ezra smiled, feeding into her attempts. He always loved these little moments. Ezra Masse works for the school district. He''s a high school teacher, and he''s rather well known by the community. He has a wife and one kid, and no other family that he has ever spoken about. Ezra Masse seems to be a rather normal, and loved character. But that''s not all that he is. Time had passed, and his daughter was put to sleep. His wife, Sasha, was preparing for bed. As for he, he was sitting at the kitchen table, his glasses equipped as he stared off into space. "It''s been two weeks... The downtime is only getting shorter and shorter..." He mumbled. His hands were shaking, and his family might not have noticed it, but he was paler than usual. He glanced up towards the corner. The walls seemed to be wavering, shaking like a wave in the ocean. Visual hallucinations. Ezra has a problem. He does not have cancer. Ezra is not human. Simply put, he feeds on them. Too long without the flesh of a human leads to cellular degeneration. His body stops functioning correctly, and he develops all type of problems. Namely the cancer he has been diagnosed with on four separate occasions. Twice as a child, once as a teenager, and just today for the last time. But of course, he long knew the cure to this "cancer". "I''ve ran out of my supply..." He groaned, swinging his head back. "Looks like I need to do some more killing." ...
Chapter One, Blunt. Chapter One, Blunt. ...
... All the lights were off, but the moon was shining bright. It seeped through the windows, and illuminated the house. Quite aesthetic if you ask me... The problem on my hands was rather taxing, but I didn''t let it get to me. I hadn''t killed in a long while. Of course that wasn''t my problem, in fact I was rather excited with the idea. I just didn''t know if I had the time or resources to succeed with my killings. I would always have my secondary property, to go and think, to separate my two lives. But of course that wasn''t of the most help in this scenario. I glanced over my shoulder, my eyes landing on a portrait, this one solely picturing my daughter. Sophia was five now... One year closer to the day some of my questions may be answered. I was five and a half years old when I was first diagnosed with cancer. My foster family was rather devastated, and they gave their all towards curing me. Hospitalization, chemotherapy, all of it. But of course, I wasn''t cured of anything until... Until I bit a middle school kid on a field trip. I don''t think anyone ever figured out what happened to him, and rather unfortunately he''s been missing ever since. All it took was cannibalizing one person, and within a month my "cancer" was cured. Of course, I didn''t make the connection until I was of teenage years. My hand found its way to the table, grabbing the glass of milk. Sadly it was one of the few drinks that had true taste to me. "I still don''t even know what I am... No one does." I sighed. "If I have to look after So as well... I''ll have four lives to balance." My head was starting to hurt just thinking about it. I myself already had two lives. Ezra Masse the family man and loved public school teacher. And of course, the local mysterious murderer Hollow. As for where the name comes from? Of course I had to have some sort of fun with my kills. Leaving behind a hollowed out limb would always leave the police mortified. It was quite entertaining to say the least. Just thinking about it I couldn''t help but laugh... I put the now emptied cup of milk down. I guess for now I would have to plan things out. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ...
... Ring!~ Abruptly, everyone rose scrambling to collect their things. Fourth period was finally over, and lunch was the only thing most of them could talk about. "Is juice Thursday really that important?..." A student laughed, watching as some of the... less popular kids, sprinted through the doorway. Most of the students filtered out of the classroom, only a few remaining. There was a group of rather popular kids, some of the boys known amongst all the teachers. They were liked, despite the fact some of them weren''t very good at doing their work. I liked them as well, and they were pretty entertaining, so of course I''d let them hang around in my class. Not right now however... "Alright guys, let''s migrate out of here! I gotta'' use the bathroom." I spoke, waving my hands towards the door. "Wow Mr. Masse... That''s how you''re going to do us? I thought we were your favorites!" One of the boys whined, skulking towards the front of the class. "No, he hates your ass..." Another one chuckled from behind, pushing through the two in front of him. "We might as well get lunch though." He continued, leading the way. I let out a small laugh as the group exited. Of course they weren''t that funny in that moment, but I was used to putting up fake smiles. With an exhale, I looked towards the corner of the class, gazing upon the lone figure. He was hooded, his head dug into his arms as slept soundlessly. Taylor Blunt, a junior in high school. Very little friends. Very little family. Ostracized almost... He could be considered the stereotypical emo kid. He wore dark clothes, he had long scruffy dark hair, and he seemed to be rather dark in most senses. Of course, he was bullied, and most of the teachers on campus were aware of that. There were few that cared for him enough to be there when he needed someone, and having to uphold the personality I had built, I was one of them. "Taylor!" I said, elevating my octaves. I strode over to the sleeping student, my eyes squinting in the process. Thinking about it... Taylor Blunt could be a perfect candidate... No friends, textbook depressed kid, one singular crack addict parent. I could easily work with that. I had once seen the scars on his arm, and the bruises on his face. It would only be a matter of entering his house... I could... I could kill him, frame it on his father. I could kill him and leave a small piece of his body behind. I could... I had found my kill. "Taylor." I touched his shoulder, and in reply, the boy jolted upwards. He was breathing heavily. I took note of that. "S-Sorry Mr. Masse, do you need me to get out?" He asked, nervously. I could nearly hear his heart beat. I only let out a small, concerned smile. "I mean... I was going to go to the bathroom but... Maybe you need some sleep. You can stay here if you would like." I replied. However, I knew his character... "No no, it''s alright! I think I need some water anyway." There was a nervous smile on his face. He brushed his bangs out of his face, grabbing his book bag. He had taken his head phone out of his ear when I touched him, but now that he was attempting to leave, he had put it back in. I made way, letting the kid scoot past. He speed walked out, glancing back for a short moment as he exited. My smile had disappeared as he left, but slowly, it was coming back. There were rumors around the school, but they were rather baseless. They were just fibs made to bully him. But I knew. Taylor wasn''t really... attracted... to women. It was obvious. From the way he became frantic when speaking to me, and how calm he was with girls that spoke to him. Most boys didn''t warrant a response from him either, but a few of the more textbook jocks seemed to make him nervous. I could infer when it was nerves from being bullied, and nerves from attraction. As for how he was with me? It was clear as day. Of course I could understand, I was aware of my looks, and I often used it to my benefit. I would do the same in this case. Taylor would soon leave the land of the living. Of course, it would be saddening, he was only seventeen after all. Not saddening for me fortunately, saddening for the community. "Taylor Blunt... I thank you for the sacrifice." I exhaled. I would only be putting him out of his misery after all. He should take this as a blessing. ...