Trigger Warning: This story contains graphic depictions of murder and characters with psychotic behavior. Viewer discretion is advised.


Psychos on Duty

“You reckon blood makes the shape of a hibiscus if you cut the left common carotid artery,” asked Tren

“I wouldn’t be so sure, I did try it once but it was a normal leakage at best nothing special about it” answered Hill 

“It depends on the person’s BP, So you may have to waterboard them and then try it — The results may be better”.

“Too much work, why not just kill someone around”

“We used to. Look where that got us, anyway we are here,” said Hill.

“Remind me about the target again,” said Hill

 “IVF lackey- -traffics women to harvest ovaries which he sells to IVF clinics, His operation was wiped a few days back but he may prove to be a loose end, nothing special about him, your daily goon who had a bit too much malice in him,” said Tren upon which both of them got out their black thar and made their way towards the target, who was happily smoking leaning on a tree. 

It was quick work, a slash to the Achilles and another one to the common Iliac, fitting for an IVF lackey. They made sure he would bleed out, while hopelessly gazing at his groin, unable to move or call for help.

“That was a fine piece of work man,” said Hill

“What a life, we get to do what we want in the name of justice” replied Tren

“Who would have thought they would hire two psychos to clean out the city,” said Hill, grinning.

As they made their way to the HQ, there was a strange file on their desk — usually a file’s color classified its difficulty. They were green, yellow, and orange but today there was a blue one numbered #237. Puzzled, they opened it and collectively said, “Perfect”.

The media responsible for this reaction was a picture that would make normal people hurl their guts out – number of limbs, placed in symmetry, decorated with multiple organs. While it was obvious the body parts were of multiple different humans — a single list was provided on the next page which carefully listed out each part of the arrangement and its posthumous owner. This wasn’t a case of a vigilante taking revenge or a murder in the craze of drugs or heartbreak — It was one of insanity. A vivid display of a sociopath’s passion — a passion for serial killing and mutilation. While they stood still analysing the file both of them thought to themselves “This is going to be tough”.

“He works at Chrimata Hospital, so how do we approach this?” asked Tren

“Maybe check the pattern on the victims, In cases like these the guys are too invested in race and hair, They even care about the blood type sometimes, Let’s analyse the list in the picture,” said Hill, He nodded and they started their task of filtering out the details of the victims.

just as Hill had predicted there was a pattern, All the victims had a similar blood group, O. “So petty” said Tren as They sighed hard and said in unison 



They were leisurely sipping their tea while looking at the Abode of their tormentor, the great Chrimata Hospital. A guy in blue overalls walked up, ordered a chai, took a seat, and started writing something. Tren and Hill looked at each other and approached him

“So you work in Chrimata?” said Tren in a charming voice.

“Yes”, replied the student sternly

“You look like a student, house surgeon?”, 


“I had a question, and I reckon it’s something only med guys could answer”

“Go on”, said the house surgeon

“Is any blood type better than the other?” asked Tren as he gazed upon what the house surgeon was writing

“Hmm, I guess you could say O blood type is better than the latter  other groups due to how it has the lowest risk for heart attacks and blood clots in the legs and lungs.”

“Ohh, do you mind telling me why your handwriting matches this specific note here?”, said Tren

Grabbing his notepad and comparing it with a picture of the list — the one with the names of the victims. As the House surgeon tried to reach for something, Hill slowly slid a knife under his throat — “Don’t” he said as the house surgeon resigned, understanding his fate.


Dr.Kojima woke up, to the sounds of the ECG machine beeping, breathing raggedly wondering if he had turned into a sociopath due to his mother’s neglect, her affair, or maybe he had a fractured psyche from birth. 

The bell rang — it was time for his next victim, he drew a deep breath and put on a smile.

 It wasn’t hard to get to Dr.Kojima once they faked their blood group and a long record of being healthy. As they neared his room Hill shook his head, telling Tren to be on standby and entered the room, sat down and Hill said

“Dr.Kojima, your work was brilliant I must say, you even went as far as to use a Cryogenic freezer to make sure the limbs weren’t discoloured ” Kojima sat still listening patiently, “I could tell by the nails,” said Hill. 

“Oh, I’m glad you liked my work” replied Kojima as he quickly drew a Glock15 and shot Hill at his neck. Just as he was about to take another shot to blow his head off, Tren rushed into the room and threw his axe right on Kojima’s temple. He fell back, blood spewing and his brain on full display.

“You alright?” asked Tren

“The prick got my collarbone, The medical bill will make me sell my other kidney. ” groaned Hill.

 “I called the HQ. Let’s roll. We got some aftershave back home” said Tren,

 “That was lucky. And how is aftershave going to help with the bullet? ” said Hill as he helped himself up clutching his gunshot wound, and limped away following Tren.

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