I have reason to believe my life is in danger. I cannot bring this issue to law enforcement, nor can I request help from my family or peers. Here is the situation:
About two years ago, in the midst of the summer, I was spending my evening in downtown █████ with a recently made friend of mine, who henceforth will be refered to as Conrad. We had met just a few weeks before, at our school. He was a bit eccentric, openly sadistic, and slightly delusional, but no more than I was at the time. He was the first friend I had in years, so I didn't care much about his behavior; I was just happy to have someone relatively likeminded to speak to. Near the end of the night, Conrad requested that I followed him to a dark alley. Typically, this would be seen as a red flag, and I was perfectly aware of this. However, back then, I was terribly suicidal, so for me, getting stabbed to death wasn't something I would've made an attempt to avoid. I went with him through an alleyway, stepping over drug-administation utensils and other random sharp objects, which was difficult due to the lack of lighting. Eventually, we reach the end of the alleyway, which turned left into a slightly wider corridor. Conrad put his hand up with an open palm, signaling me to stop. He peeks his head around the corner, then looks back at me with his finger pressed against his lips. He then walks around the corner, and I follow close behind. Eventually, we were close enough to recognize what I was being lead towards; a sleeping homeless man, lying atop a sheet of rolled newspapers. Upon noticing, I grabbed his forearm, and he halts. I pull him close and whisper, Hey, the ***** are we doing? to which he responds, What do you think? He pulled a balisong knife out of his jean pockets, tossed it to his left hand, pulled out a pocket knife, and gave it to me. I hesitate for a long while. He leans in and says to me, All that shit you told me, and now you don't want to do it? Eventually, without speaking, I took the knife and we continued to make our way down the corridor towards the sleeping man, being sure not to make any noise.
I now stood over the man, my feet just a few inches from his face. I could feel sweat running down the sides of my torso, and my hands trembled. I was genuinely prepared to kill, having possessed an intense desire to do so beforehand. But instead of going ahead with it, I only watched as my friend approached the sleeping man, got on one knee, pulled out his phone, began recording with the flashlight on, and then began rapidly stabbing the man in the abdomen. He had been stabbed about three times before opening his eyes. He hardly reacted, only cumbersomly attempting to shield his belly with his arms whilst moaning incoherently. Conrad worked his way to the homeless mans neck, stabbing his torso and shoulders before reaching it. Eventually, the homeless man was still, the only sound coming from him being a gentle gurgling noise. I remained where I stood as Conrad rinsed his hands with a bottle of water, took a sip from the bottle, crumpled it up and stuffed it in his pocket, and walked down the corridor, back where we came, giving me a brief glance before disappearing. I still have that knife he gave me.
I remember exchanging a few words with Conrad once or twice more at school, before he and his family moved to the west. I never told anyone about what happened, partially because I was technically an accomplice, mostly because I didn't care to.
Recently, he came in contact with me. The following is a transcription of our interaction via an internet chat service.
> Hey, █████. It's Conrad. Still on this account?
oh, wow. hey man. yeah its me. hows it been? <
> I'm doing fine. Been better. Just wanted to see what you've been up to.
nothing really. not much has changed since i've last seen you <
any reason in particular you contacted me? <
> [IMG_1189.wav] (video featuring the killing)
> Remember this shit?
what the ***** bro? <
dont share that shit here <
it's a *****ing clearnet chatsite <
> Shut the ***** up bitch.
bro what?? <
> Ok listen. I'm back in the state. I know you sold me out?
> Don't even try to *****ing lie, █████ told me when I came over.
> I'm coming to see you. Don't call the *****ing cops, they get me and I'll show them the video, your in it to.
dude the ***** are you talking about <
I didn't tell anyone, I haven't even spoken to █████ since you left <
You're literally just making shit up <
> Yeah keep talking
you're *****ing insane bro <
you wanna come and kill me? no need for police come and try *****er. <
> you're trying too hard.
you'll see. <
just straight up admitted to wanting to kill me. dumbass <
> Where are you at, then!
come and find me bitch idc <
Anyway, what happens now? He knows my name, I'm assuming that he's gonna find me eventually. I'm in possession of a 9mm, and am decent with it. I live in a suburban area. I only live with my dad. What's the best course of action from here?
p.s: I wrote this post as if it were a fictional story, but everything is true, besides some details largely changed to remain anonymous.