Alone, I sit in the shadows and wait for my next victim...
There is no rush, no hurry in this process. Just whatever catches my eye.
These cold, dark, lonely streets are my domain. Here I just sit, and wait for the prey that always shows her face.
I know, I know. I said her, not them or their. How do I explain without sounding insane?...
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It just is...her. It doesn't matter the place, or the body. In the eyes, the eyes and face. It's always her.
Her crime: Such a wonderful tease...followed by a crushing rejection.
Her punishment due: Delivered with a maniacal grin. All of my angst and rage, choking the life out of her.
Don't get me wrong, it felt good to walk up behind and strangle her...but it just didn't feel like it was enough.
I grabbed a knife from the kitchen needing to feel, and taste my vengeance against her...
It was then, as I continued to slash and stab through her vessel, and making such a wonderful beautiful mess...
That I realized I was feeding, almost energized, by the taste and feel of the crimson mask I bore out of her still warm essense.
After disposing of the body, and still feeling the high, I decided to walk the streets to clear my mind and calm down.
Out of the darkness and into the light of the streets I roamed. Getting calmer as I journeyed through the masses.
Then my heart jumped, as she appeared before me. It was her face, staring back at me with a smile. But how?
I walked up to her, politely offered her money to follow me home. But this time, I brought my own knife with me...
Days turn to weeks, and my new hunt continues. The faceless line the streets, night after night. I carefully stalk them.
Although cautious, I cannot help but feel that someone, perhaps the authorities are slowly catching up with me.
The more I kill, the more the need grows. I catch myself singing "BLEED YOUR DEATH UPON ME! BLEED YOUR DEATH UPON ME!"
As time went on, I tried to forget that feeling that someone wasn't far off behind me, waiting for a mistake.
I ventured into the use of different weapons and scenarios for my kills. Anything really to make it more and more exciting.
As the bodycount kept rising, the streets kept providing new victims. So my hunt continued...
Axes, machetes, and heavy blunt objects worked just fine. They were even fun! But awkward and heavy..wear you out.
But the knife is much better. More precise, up close and personal. The depraved acts you can do, and control the blood flow.
I had my next victim in the cell, preparing for the kill...When I heard the door latch from behind. Then she appeared.
In shock, I just froze, temporarily. Had the authorities finally tracked me down and found me?
As I turned and looked towards the door, my heart stopped again. I looked up at her in shock, and froze once more.
I was spellbound in the blink of an eye. What was I to do? Who was she? What was she going to do?
Still stunned, I slowly crawled across the floor towards her. Slowly and gently, all the way to her feet.
I looked up, she gave me a mischievous grin. I slowly raised my knife up to her, and she took it. She raised it up to my chin.
She then gently raised me up to my feet with it, she grinned even bigger as she glanced across the room at my prey.
She took my hand, and we walked over to our first victim. Grabbed her by the hair, and sliced her throat.Laughing gleefully, she handed me the bloody knife.
We worked some real magic together that night. And every night since. She is my one, my everything....My Homicidal Bitch...
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