Mensa Society for Serial Killers

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Abstract

mple. Any killer who extinguished another killer’s life would be afforded Master Killer status with many prizes and privileges bestowed. But it came with a potential price. Master Killers were moved up the Docket of Joyous Murder, a prioritized list of who should be killed first. Incentivized, anyone who killed a Master would be assigned Grand Master Killer status with double the prizes and privileges. The Council’s goal was to thin the ranks to half, at which time the Game would cease and order would be restored.</p><h1 id="8e9f">Ravenous Bloodthirst</h1><p id="4ce3">The problem, one might imagine, is that serial killers live for death, the death of others. Like bloodhounds, once the scent of bloodletting soaks the ground and permeates the air, there’s better a chance of a brakeless bus coming to a soft slow stop than frenzied serial murderers abruptly shutting off their instincts and cravings. So, one by one, murderer murdered murderer until the ranks were halved. However, when the Council of Madness called for an end to the Insane Game, they were swiftly and mindlessly slaughtered. Many of the assassins’ lives were then taken by others, and so on. The combatants eventually dwindled to eight. And then three. And then two. And finally, a victor. A king among killers. A murderer to end all murderers, literally. His name, appropriately, Victor Rellik. What a scene. Victor covered in blood, holding in his hands a bloodstained axe, and standing in a pool of blood surrounded by dismembered and otherwise brutalized bodies. He looked to the sky, raised his axe high, and screamed the most primal of all screams. A top dog howlin

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g to the moon, proclaiming his superiority.</p><h1 id="2a2d">The Trap</h1><p id="0a7e">Little did Victor know the police had been called hours before. But rather than storm the building and make arrests, Chief Part let members of the Mensa Society for Serial Killers slaughter their brethren before entering. A safe bet in that it would protect his officers and ultimately save the taxpayers the cost of countless trials. Moments following Victor’s fateful scream, a blue wave of law enforcers aggressively crashed through doors and windows. Startling Victor, he flinched and inadvertently dropped the axe squarely on and into his head.</p><p id="3de3">This did not kill him, however, but was enough cranial trauma to cause a fall to the floor. The only thing there to brace his fall, an upward-pointing, highly sharpened butcher knife, still in the hand of the last serial killer Victor had snuffed out. This killer brilliantly killed the murderer of all murderers post-mortem, an amazing feat indeed.</p><p id="48cd">No arrests, no court proceedings, and no lifetime imprisonments. The Chief, judges, and prison guards were pleased. The Medical Examiner, mortuary staff, and housekeeping staff were, let’s say, displeased.</p><p id="af00">The MSSK members’ bodies are buried and scattered in unmarked graves throughout the county. Officials did not want any additional publicity or to inspire unstable, murderous-learning disciples. Unfortunately, their plan failed. The Mensa Society for Serial Killers has covertly reconstituted and will be gaveling in a new Council of Madness soon.</p><p id="7092"><i>To be continued.</i></p></article></body>

Where else would genius murders gather?

Have you heard of it? No? Be thankful you have not. Ignorance keeps you amongst the living. Knowledge of the Mensa Society for Serial Killers, a group of the most talented and genius murderers, is (not ironically) a death sentence. Absolute secrecy is necessary for MSSK to survive, to maintain longevity. The charter specifically dictates, “MSSK will find, mutilate, and destroy anyone who learns of us without the express permission of the Council of Madness.” The Council is a rotation of five murderous men, terms lasting one year or until arrest or death precedes it. But digressions aside, it’s prudent to avoid retention of this information if you want to survive past Friday.

The Insane Game

There came a time, maybe seven years ago, that jealousy and paranoia ran rampant within the order. The ranks had expanded to the point of power imbalance. Competitiveness prevailed and alliances formed. Plots were hatched. Secret death sentences within the death organization were issued. The Council of Madness knew dissolution, anarchy, and war were imminent if a containment resolution wasn’t established. Thus, the Insane Game was decreed. It was simple. Any killer who extinguished another killer’s life would be afforded Master Killer status with many prizes and privileges bestowed. But it came with a potential price. Master Killers were moved up the Docket of Joyous Murder, a prioritized list of who should be killed first. Incentivized, anyone who killed a Master would be assigned Grand Master Killer status with double the prizes and privileges. The Council’s goal was to thin the ranks to half, at which time the Game would cease and order would be restored.

Ravenous Bloodthirst

The problem, one might imagine, is that serial killers live for death, the death of others. Like bloodhounds, once the scent of bloodletting soaks the ground and permeates the air, there’s better a chance of a brakeless bus coming to a soft slow stop than frenzied serial murderers abruptly shutting off their instincts and cravings. So, one by one, murderer murdered murderer until the ranks were halved. However, when the Council of Madness called for an end to the Insane Game, they were swiftly and mindlessly slaughtered. Many of the assassins’ lives were then taken by others, and so on. The combatants eventually dwindled to eight. And then three. And then two. And finally, a victor. A king among killers. A murderer to end all murderers, literally. His name, appropriately, Victor Rellik. What a scene. Victor covered in blood, holding in his hands a bloodstained axe, and standing in a pool of blood surrounded by dismembered and otherwise brutalized bodies. He looked to the sky, raised his axe high, and screamed the most primal of all screams. A top dog howling to the moon, proclaiming his superiority.

The Trap

Little did Victor know the police had been called hours before. But rather than storm the building and make arrests, Chief Part let members of the Mensa Society for Serial Killers slaughter their brethren before entering. A safe bet in that it would protect his officers and ultimately save the taxpayers the cost of countless trials. Moments following Victor’s fateful scream, a blue wave of law enforcers aggressively crashed through doors and windows. Startling Victor, he flinched and inadvertently dropped the axe squarely on and into his head.

This did not kill him, however, but was enough cranial trauma to cause a fall to the floor. The only thing there to brace his fall, an upward-pointing, highly sharpened butcher knife, still in the hand of the last serial killer Victor had snuffed out. This killer brilliantly killed the murderer of all murderers post-mortem, an amazing feat indeed.

No arrests, no court proceedings, and no lifetime imprisonments. The Chief, judges, and prison guards were pleased. The Medical Examiner, mortuary staff, and housekeeping staff were, let’s say, displeased.

The MSSK members’ bodies are buried and scattered in unmarked graves throughout the county. Officials did not want any additional publicity or to inspire unstable, murderous-learning disciples. Unfortunately, their plan failed. The Mensa Society for Serial Killers has covertly reconstituted and will be gaveling in a new Council of Madness soon.

To be continued.