Serial Killer

http://dailypolicereport.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/White-Angel.jpg picture. My computer hates me. Sorry!

The wind howled against the thin walls. Most of the frigid air traveled inside through the cracks between the baseboards that whistled frightfully. I didn't care though, I was busily chopping up the latest of my corpses. This was the eleventh child that I had killed within the past year. The heavy cleaver got thrusted down and with a sickening pop the girl's left hand was torn apart from her body. I got ready to chop off the rest of the arm, at the elbow, when a siren could be heard from up the creak. This area was safe, I know, multiple traps had been made from the swamp that covered most of the forest to pits and small landmines that I had set up myself. I know they will never find me, what fools. I was clever enough to evade them every time, and not leave any evidence. There was nothing that could stop me now, I was on a roll.
The sirens had stopped, the stupid police were going to try to find me in here again. Obviously that was a very stupid idea. I heard screams, human screams and a few low booms, some idiot setting of the mines. The thudding of feet drumming closer to the cabin, mirrored the beating of my heart. Though, there was no way they could find me here. I looked down at the shocked little girl that I was carfully buturing, hatred flaring through me. She was the one who told them that I was there. She did it, I needed to kill her now, before her screams could lead them to me. My cleaver was thrown down and a frightful pace, quickly mutalating her. There was only on last part that could go, her head, the mouth that had shown them to me would be silenced forever. I raised the dagger high above my head waiting for the faital swoop that would end all of my problems.
The door suddenly busted down, the old wood not giving a very good fight. I was finally thwarted. Nothing could stop me now though, so I took the bloodied cleaver that was above my head and brought it before my throat. This was going to be my twelfth kill. The dull sting of a bullet throbbed in my arm, adrenalin masking the pain. There was nothing that was going to stop me from my last kill. Nothing... Splat!