I’ve killed six people in the last seven days. It’s been…really
therapeutic actually. All that red, hot, sticky blood. I really enjoy cutting
into flesh and watching blood pour against their skin. And watching the light
as it leave their eyes – that last spark of life; it’s practically orgasmic. Speaking
of orgasms…
No. I’m not going to talk about James today. He needs his
own update and I just don’t have the energy to write one that long.
I sometimes wonder why I’m telling perfect strangers about
my love life. I mean, you didn’t ask to hear about my failing marriage and it’s
rarely beneficial to tell others about my comings and goings – I’m not usually
big on unsolicited advice (see: My Mother).
I don’t know. There’s something oddly comforting in sending
my troubles out into the universe. Maybe they’ll come back as solutions. Or
they won’t come back at all.
Anyways.
I haven’t been sleeping much lately – for reasons you know
so I’m not going to discuss them now – which means I’m restless and
unpredictable. On Friday I went for a walk which is usually a bit of a hit and
miss kind of night. Late night walks are a great way to kill and have it blamed
on gang violence or let it go unsolved but Halloween is filled with people who
are anonymous and hyperaware of their surroundings when they’re on the street.
In other words: unreliable targets. But nevertheless, I found myself wandering
around a neighbourhood not my own in the wee hours of the morning, my only mood
music the sounds of dwindling house parties and left over decorations.
Lucky me, I found myself walking down a dark alleyway, drawn
in by the sounds of a drunken couple sloppily getting off in the backyard of
one of those slutty celebrations of the wiccan holiday. On a whim, I pretended
to be an annoyed neighbour asking them to keep the noise down. I was told to
fuck off – this is a shouting match over a fence, remember – so I opened the
back gate and asked the couple to step away so we could talk. Once we were out
of the light, I slit the girl’s throat and knocked the boy unconscious with the
butt of my knife before stabbing him five times around his heart – in the shape
of a pentagram because I can.
I know a lot of people think you want to kill the male of
the couple first because he’s the one most likely to fight back (if we’re
embracing stereotypes) but sometimes it’s actually easier to take out the girl who
looks like she’s a screamer. I’ll tell you this: if your kill is playing out
like a scene in a horror movie, kill the slut first. She’s likely to scream and
attract attention whereas the jock is more likely the strong silent type.
Second rule of murder: know your audience. Know who you’re
killing – not by name, but by personality type – and know who’s going to find
the body. Is it going to be a random person on the street, a parks and rec
worker, a neighbour, an annoyed home owner?
The people who know their city the best are the active
serial killers in the country. They’re tuned in to the pulse of the city, they
know all the inner workings of the municipal system because they can’t get
caught by it. If you’re planning on making the career switch, do your research.
Admittedly I learned a lot by trial and error but I don’t
want you to take 20 years to get as good as I am. That’s why I’m imparting some
of my wisdom. Of course I’ll never tell you all my secrets. There’s a reason I’m
the most successful active serial killer in the continent – and that’s not just
a boast; I checked. Of course it’s hard to compare when I’ve never officially
been labeled a serial killer.
Actually, I don’t know if I’ve ever told you the story of
the time in the early 2000s I was called the “White Chapel Double”. I killed a prostitute
and one news station compared it to the Jack the Ripper killings so I thought I
would indulge them. Ove the course of three months, I played a prank on the city
by killing 16 prostitutes before suddenly stopping. I took two weeks off after
that to let the dust settle before I went back to my normal programming. It was
kind of fun to see all the police and reporters speculate on who I was and why
I was doing it.
No one came close.
That was the most satisfying part. No one had a clue. I
rarely worry about my secret being found out and when I do it’s easily alleviated.
So I can do things like kill 6 people in 7 days with little
to no stress on myself.
That’s what my personal life is for.
I need coffee.
As always, dear readers,
Stay Safe
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