A mixture of sound machine and a tell-tale heart

Why will you say that I am mad? I am not a psychopath. I am merely a

bibliophile who can hear every single sound from nature. No, I don’t mean the
singing from birds, but the humming from trees, the shrilling from grass and leaves,
the murmuring from fish and the croon from every creature. Moreover, all of them
have different characters; some of them are patient, some are cocky, some are bashful
and some are knowledgeable, they are all my friends.
The voice of nature is the most beautifully written symphony. Though I am a
writer, the voice of nature still inspires me. Yet some evils barged in and the reign of
terror began. They came so quickly and silently that I couldn’t notice.
In the evening of a Monday, it was raining heavily, while I was reading the
Plato’s Dialogues, suddenly I heard a knowledgeable tree groaning in agony. A
second later, I heard some continuously harsh noises. Those groan and noises chilled
the very marrow in my bones. The thought of the great agony that my friend was
suffering triggered me to take revenge. I took my shotgun from the basement, and
then I put on my headphone and that made me calm down. I went out and saw two
evil men were killing my friend. They didn’t notice me and that was good for me. I
found a hidden place, just ten meters far away from them. I aimed, and shot, one man
laid down. Another man was petrified. I aimed, another shot, another man laid down.
I rushed to my friend, but he was dead. Do you know how I concealed the bodies?
That was a work of art. I used their electric saw to dismember the corpses. I cut off
the heads and the arms and the legs. I buried their body parts in the forest dispersedly.
The blood-spot, stain and all evidences would be destroyed by the rain. Ha! Ha!
Everyone would think they disappeared.
After all, you should never think I am mad. There are reasons why I was doing
that. It was logical, right?