Your Midweek Update for 09/28/22

Apparently buses and bus shelters are still excellent places to murder people. They’re poorly lit, they’re poorly maintained, their poorly populated. The city really does not do a great job at promoting their public transit system. Really, I’m doing them a favour.

For every minimum wage 20-something I gut with broken glass I found AT THE BUS SHELTER, the city adds 20 more dollars to their infrastructure. Maybe one day they can afford to carry the body away.

I really shouldn’t be killing minimum wage workers, sooner or later we’re going to run out of people to flip burgers. I’m the real reason bosses can’t find people to work for them. No, but for real, capitalism has created an over-inflated emphasis on productivity and profit at the expense of the worker. The real people I should be killing are the millionaires and billionaires – and I think we have a trillionaire now? Strangely, none of them take public transportation and I had a murder boner I needed quenched now.

Sorry I said boner.

But that’s what it’s like – for me at least. I get these urges and my head turns into this mantra of “kill, kill, kill.” I can quiet the mantra if I have a plan in place but the only time it’s ever completely quiet in my head is the few seconds where I’ve watched someone take their last breaths. Then, I’m so focused on the task at hand that I forget about everything else and the whole world goes silent. Then it’s just me and the body. But soon enough, the voices come back and I feel the urge all over again.

Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do. It is so fucking fun to slice a man’s throat and then poke 100 holes into his body to see him bleed out like a sieve. But there’s something about the quiet that I crave most.

So sometimes I have to kill the underdog in order to satiate my hunger until I can get to the CEO. There’s really nothing to be done. Well, the city could fix the bus shelter but that’s never going to happen.

So I’m going to keep on killing.

Sincerely,

Casey

Your Midweek Update for 09/21/22

Last week I said I would talk about the cop and the deer so here’s the story.

Last week (last Tuesday, actually, which is why I was falling asleep standing up all day Wednesday) I was disposing of a body in the woods just south of town and as I was digging, a deer walked right up to us. Just sauntered into my little patch of dirt and stood there, staring at me. It was genuinely unnerving. Have you ever had a staring contest with a deer? It’s like staring at a god. They know more than you and yet they’re at peace with the world. So I was staring into the abyss and the abyss was staring back when the deer bent down, eyes still penetrating my soul, and bit into the body on the ground.

I swear to god that’s what happened. This fucking dear – that I’m pretty sure was just some minor deity – started eating the dead woman at my feet. I didn’t want to startle the horror movie monster but I also had a vision of it not caring whether their dinner was living or dead so I needed to get out of there. It genuinely took me 20 minutes just to successfully step out of the small clearing. As soon as I was out of visually range of the demon in the woods, me and my shovel high-tailed it the fuck out of there.

No pun intended.

Cause I said “high-tailed” and deer have high…

Anyways

I finally made it through the line of trees leading to the main road; I hadn’t even stopped running when I came upon a police officer – probably doing something shady but I didn’t really get a chance to ask. He asked why I had a shovel in my hands and I was so frazzled by the local cyptid that I said the first thing that came to mind: I was burying a dead body.

He laughed because I’m adorable and innocent-looking but I was aware enough to know what a fucking mess I’d be in if that cop lived to remember me. So I offered to show him. I took him back through the woods to the spot where the woman’s body was still being torn apart and before he could fully process what he was seeing, I hit him on the back of the head with the shovel.

That didn’t scare Bambi’s mother away which was the final straw that convinced me I was hallucinating or I’d somehow died and this was my purgatory.

As I suspected, it didn’t really care what it was eating, so long as it was satiated and before I knew it, the police officer’s shoulder was being nibbled apart.

And then his fucking radio went off, informing “Officer Brown” that he’d left his post and would need to return there immediately.

You know what I did?

I walked away. In a few hours, they would go looking for Officer Brown and find whatever was left of him and the other woman. Even if they do perform an autopsy on their mangled flesh, it’s unlikely they’ll be able to put this bizarre story together. As far as I’m concerned, that deer can eat all the evidence and then waddle off to whatever cave it crawled from. I am never burying a body in that woods again.

Whatever I saw there, can fucking stay there.

Sincerely,

Casey

Your Midweek Update for 09/14/22

I slept in and I don’t have time to update or else I’ll be late for school.

Just… next week, remind me to tell you about the cop and the deer.

I don’t know how mom did this every week.

Sincerely,

Casey

Your Midweek Update for 09/07/22

I think at some point in my career, I would like to kill someone over the phone. I don’t know exactly how that would work but I’d like to actively be talking to them when they’re murdered. Think about it: it’s the perfect alibi.

I mean, my mom taught me that not needing an alibi at all is the best thing but if you do require an alibi, make it impenetrable. What is more foolproof than literally being on the phone with the victim – on the other side of the city – when they bite it. Now I just have to figure out how to kill them.

As I’m thinking about it, so much more would need to go into it. I would need to be acquainted with the victim in some way, I’d need to know their schedule or be able to perfectly control their movements when I can’t see them, I’d need some sort of machinery that I could trigger remotely and then remove from the crime scene while being an initial suspect because I reported the murder. Obviously I would be released from suspicion when the phone company confirmed my whereabouts – thank god that corporations track our every movement, right?

It's a lot. It would be a colossal undertaking but it’s not like I’m doing anything else. I mean, I’m entering my final year of school with all eyes on me because of the loss of my mother but other than that, my schedule is totally open.

Am I going to do this now?

Why wait, I guess.

Okay, then. Time to pick a victim.

The victim in the basement died after a few days. I don’t remember if I mentioned that. So that was fun while it lasted.

Sincerely,

Casey

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