Red Handed Man

[The Wizard]

The Red Handed Man sat in the corner of the bar, far from the notice of the establishment's other patrons. He nursed a scotch, an excuse for him to sit in the booth. He wore a nice suit, elegant yet tasteful, a gentleman's attire. His eyes were always hidden, impossible to see beneath the shadows which clung to him like a rain soaked coat. A rictus grin was scrawled across his face, wide and filled with too white teeth. He was a gentleman predator, a personification of artful violence and the fear of death.

On any other night, he would have been watching the herd, selecting with utmost care tonight's sacrificial lamb. He would have spied them out, latching onto them, his latest pet obsession. He would watch them and write in his little notebook, noting details such as hair color and height. He would make predictions as to which of his tools would inspire the most fear. Maybe he would give the mewling little thing a shave, or wrap his scarf around the slender little neck. Or he could go with the classics and just use his bare hands.

But tonight something was wrong. Instead of selecting his prey and writing in his little black book, he just sat and brooded, his spidery fingers tapping on the table top to rhythm of a heartbeat. In all honesty something had been wrong for quite some time.  The way of life that sustained the Red Handed Man had survived for millennium. Select prey, stalk prey, kill prey. He had sipped wine with Vlad Tsepesh at the height of his power, strolled through Whitechapel knife in hand, and haunted Boston during the sixties. But things had changed.

He couldn't really say when things had changed, when the value of his work had vanished. At some point, the very nature of Murder had changed. It was no longer a thing of fear and malice. The art to which he'd dedicated his existence had been transformed into a business. People no longer regarded the deaths of innocence with terror or despair. In the cities, people walked past corpses without a second thought. Governments assassinated their own citizens and there was no cry of outrage. Children murdered fake people regularly, treating it as a  diversion rather than as a High Art. The herd, his beloved squealing lambs, had become complacent to their own violent deaths.

He was the Red Handed Man, Saucy Jack, the Dark Stranger and the Saint of Murder. And looking out at the great unwashed mass of humanity, he discovered disgust.

[The Wizard]

Just something that's been bouncing around my head for a while. Let me know what you think.

[Nephew Twiddleton]

I like it- the idea that a serial killer would become sullen over the idea that nothing set him apart from his victims anymore, other than his game has more hunt, and that people don't really give a killing a second thought unless they're personally affected by it.

[The Wizard]

I like it- the idea that a serial killer would become sullen over the idea that nothing set him apart from his victims anymore, other than his game has more hunt, and that people don't really give a killing a second thought unless they're personally affected by it.

Thanks. I'd had this guy in my head for a while, and I've been also thinking about how death has become just another form of commodity or entertainment, and things kind of clicked.

What did you think of the character himself? I'm interested in using him in some of my fiction, so I'm interested in opinions on him.

[Adios]

I like the angle of returning the horror to murder.

[Nephew Twiddleton]

I like it- the idea that a serial killer would become sullen over the idea that nothing set him apart from his victims anymore, other than his game has more hunt, and that people don't really give a killing a second thought unless they're personally affected by it.

Thanks. I'd had this guy in my head for a while, and I've been also thinking about how death has become just another form of commodity or entertainment, and things kind of clicked.

What did you think of the character himself? I'm interested in using him in some of my fiction, so I'm interested in opinions on him.

I like how he's described but am a little unclear on his background. Is he actually some sort of immortal, or is the Vlad/Jack the Ripper/Boston Strangler stuff metaphorical?

[LMNO]

Sounds like this guy:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENnmG3B3tvI
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yTSpvCV34Ok

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I like this. Not just a serial killer, but the personified archetype of murderer. And us, become so jaded by murder that we treat it as a commodity.

I like the character of the Red-Handed Man. I'd like to see this expanded.

I also like the writing enough that I'll offer the suggestion to lose the semicolon in the third sentence of the first paragraph. It's a device that can be useful, but in this case stands out as a device. It should simply read "His eyes were always hidden by the shadows that clung to him like a rain soaked coat."

It's a more powerful sentence that way IMO.

[Adios]

Stop;
hating on the semicolon.

[Phox]

I like this.

Also, LMNO, you have given me nightmares for the rest of... forever. 

[LMNO]

The entire Nick Cave album "Murder Ballads" is a hoot.  You should check it out.

[Phox]

The entire Nick Cave album "Murder Ballads" is a hoot.  You should check it out.

I am clicking around now... you bastard. 

[LMNO]

I aim to please.

[Phox]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BAjPXyiOuw&feature=related

That one... terrified the ever living fuck out of me. Combination of the backing vocals and the pictures in the video I think...

Also, I find this song to be staggeringly relevant, as it really made me ponder the "murder as art" concept... as I cringed at the thought of the wind and the dark....

[LMNO]

Check out "The Kindess of Strangers" next.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MXfNhHJRA9U