I had taken several books out of the library this one week on several different ser
ial killers, I really wanted to get to know them, know how they killed, why they killed and who they preyed upon. It intrigued me greatly to read about these role models, to see how they did things and to then read about how they were caught, found out and how they then died. It fascinated me that no matter how many killers were caught more cropped up in their places, worse than before. As I read and as I went through school I could not find, or place myself into any of the categories presented to me. I was not a serial killer, not quite. I did not kill people; yet, I killed animals, spiders, grasshoppers and the like. Though my urges had started to become more frequent and not as satisfied with the squirrels I killed now. I knew I would have to take the leap and kill a human. Though I did not know whom I wanted to kill, or how, or when. This all solved itself and I knew exactly who I wanted to kill.
It w
as a rainy day, the last night I was going to be at college. I had graduated a day ago, along with three hundred other class mates, I was getting ready to go back home. I found myself in the school library, I enjoyed sitting in the back of the library. It was a great spot to see all who came and went in the library, plus no one knew I was there. On the table before me lay a few books on John Bunting, Joseph Vacher, and Amelia Dyer. I wanted to read upon these people before I left college, left all these resources behind. I had been reading a lot since I came to college on notorious killers; these were the last three I wanted to get to know before I left. I was reading a book on Amelia Dyer when James sat down before me. I was a little shocked and surprised, no one ever snuck up on me, ever; though he was good at sneaking up on me. He smiled at me and I smiled back at him, closing the book I was reading. He wore a baggy black T-shirt, baggy pants and his hair was buzzed.
“Hi hun.” He said with that smile of his.
“What’s up?” I asked curiously.
“Amanda is having a
graduation party tonight. I know you are leaving tomorrow and thought it would be good for you to see her before you go.” He said leaning over the table. I placed the book down on the table as I looked about the books. I had read enough of the books before me to be satisfied for the night. Amanda was a very good friend, she kept me in the real world, and she helped me connect to people in a way I never would have been able to without her. She brought me shopping, to parties and we flirted with guys all the time. She made me normal, I guess in a way, if I think about it.
“That sounds fun, let’s go.” I replied. We stood, he grabbed my hand, and we walked out of the library. Amanda lived off campus in a tiny little place by
the railroad tracks, it was eerie, creepy, and so me. I always enjoyed going over to her place, it felt so sinister, a great spot to kill someone I thought all the time. If I were to kill someone, which I was planning on killing someone, not sure, who it was going to be yet, I would do it on the tracks.
We got into
James’s car, it was pouring out that night. He looked over at me.
“You’ve been off recently, what’s going on?” He asked me as he drove down the wet, shiny black paved road. I had been off; I had been thinking a lot, trying to find that one person who I wanted to kill. I had turned my
focus onto finding that person I wanted to kill. I smiled as I rolled my head over to look at him.
“I’ve been thinking about going back home. Leaving you and Amanda out here and me alone back home
.” I told him. He nodded his head as he turned the wheel.
“Well you could always move in with me. That way you won’t have to leave me.” He replied. I thought it over, no. I really did want to go home, live in my own cave and be myself. I did not want to worry about having
the urge to kill him every time I saw him. No, I wanted to be alone, yet I did not. I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted.
“That is sweet.” I told him with a smile.
“How many people are going to be there?” I asked as I went to grab his hand, he held mine. I wanted to change the subject.
“Not sure, she said it was going to be a few friends.”
“Yeah but with her a few friends is like half the school.” I replied, both laughing loudly.
“Yeah, and they’d all be guys cause she puts out for any guy who looks at her.”
James laughed loudly. We drove there, talking about our future, where we’d live, how many kids he wanted, I did not want any. Knowing that I was born with these urges and the need to kill, I did not want to forsake any child to a life of killing, a damned life. I never did tell my parents of my need. The summer I went off to college my mother came down with pneumonia, my father never left her side. I was eighteen and I was always in the way that summer, my father insisted on informing me of that fact. That was the summer it hit me, I had grown up without a father. I mean biologically he was my dad and he was around for my young life, but he never paid attention to me and he never talked to me.
I was sitting in the
library of the hospital the morning my mother was admitted. The hospital was a teaching school, so to say the least the place was like a small city. I sipped on my Starbucks iced coffee, iced coffee was the best. I did not see my parents that much that day, my father told me I was in the way and so I spent my day in the library reading books on killers. I was like a ghost that just happened to be related to them and lived at their house. As soon as I could, I left the house, moved out. I needed space, space to go about my ways. So I sat, drinking my coffee, thinking about the parents I had but didn’t. Though I had felt like I had lost them many years ago, when I was a child. The coffee I drank was robust, dark, just the way I liked it. That was the day I decided to move out of the house. I had no family; maybe it was better that way. My mother cried when I told them I was moving out, though my dad looked indifferent about the whole thing.
The CIA
wants me to add tips in here, in you, for others like me. They call it a training guide. So as I rewrite you and relive all the amazing times I have had, I will be adding in little tips here and there. Things that I have learned and things I feel you should know as well. They have already started to recruit others like me, though none of them are like me, they are all men and they really are fucked up; badly. I guess you could say I am the sane insane serial killer, these guys are lunatics. I have been promoted to head trainer and lead assassin.
So this is the reasoning behind me rewriting you and adding in these tips, making you really into a guide for my pupils. That sounds fun, pupils. I like the sound of that, pupils. Ha! I like it when they are dilated, all the blackness of those dead eyes
staring back up at you, not seeing now, just dead. How the eyes are is really the key, the gateway into a person. You can read then so easily, if you hate someone, love them, want them dead, you just need to look into their eyes; and the answer is right there. Pupils. Though my pupils are not eyes, they are men who think themselves a god for killing people. Granted I know where they are coming from, it does make you a god in a way. But you must remember, killing must fulfill a need. Whether it be the burning urge that eats away at you slowly if you do not feed it, or if you kill for a higher purpose, kill for a reason. You must have a motive, granted I am a serial killer and I will kill you if I want to, but I still have a little morality left somewhere deep within my cold dark soul. I am a lioness who needs to feed, needs to fill my empty stomach with death. That is the message I need to tell my pupils, make sure they understand that this is why we should, need to kill. Not because you can, though it is fun and I agree with them that it is most pleasurable to kill for the sake of killing. But there are plenty of people out there like that; they do not need trained CIA assassins who feel like killing whoever, whenever.
James
was there when I needed to hide, feel and look normal; like a girl, a lioness among men. Like in high school James was my way of not being seen, my mask. The ability to blend in, hide and prey upon the ones I wanted to feed on. The real world is like a masqueraded party and James was the mask I wore to hide my true evil self. The dim lights of the candles, all those bright golden, fluffy dresses and all the men dressed in ornate suits. Like the French in the 1800’s, when their royals wanted to be normal for a night. They decided to put on a masquerade party and blend they did. I was the queen and these people had been invited by me to dance, play, and pretend to enjoy themselves. I was the one in the biggest, fluffiest, golden dress around. James would smile for me, make me look like all those people out there, normal.
“What was that for?” I asked him. He shrugged his shoulders a few times
as he kissed me.
“I wanted to. You look really pretty tonight.” He told me as he touched my face, I smiled.
“I feel pretty tonight.” I told him, and that I did. I felt alive that night, my urge was building that night and I was in my predator mode. I wanted to kill; I needed to kill that night. I could feel myself embrace my dark, evil devilish side as I opened the car door and stepped out onto the wet dirt. I took a deep breath, the air smelled like alcohol, vomit, sweat, and men. How I loved the smell of men, salty, sweaty, and masculine; I was going to have fun tonight. James came around the car and took my hand as he kissed me again. I sparkled, inside I was sparkling.
“Looks like Amanda is going to have her hands full tonight.” I said as we walked hand in hand towards the house.
“Yup, better find her quick before one of these guys eat her alive.” James said, both of us laughing. Only the handsome, gorgeous, sports players, and models were ever invited over to Amanda's house. She liked to watch the hot men fight over her, it made her lustful and she always fucked one of them. As we approached the door one of the guys turned and stared at me, he had dark brown hair.
“What the fuck is this?” He shouted, his alcohol splashing out of the red solo cup he held in his left hand, a few of the
other guys standing in the doorway turned to face us as we walked up to the doorway.
“Beauty and the
stoner!” A tall blonde football player yelled as he pointed.
“Fuck me! What a combo!” A red head contributed.
“Come here honey, I would totally fuck the shit out of you” The brown haired guy said as he walked towards me, James was about to step in front of me when I held out my arm.
“Luckily for you I am a giant pot of honey, and I enjoy spreading myself out.” I paused as I walked up to
him; he smiled a retarded ass fucker smile as he looked back at James.
“But I only spread out for a honey bee. Sadly you are a wasp and I don't like being stung.” I told him. He scowled at me as
James laughed loudly from behind me. The guy then grabbed my ass and smirked at me. I clenched my right fist and slammed him with my strong right hook of a bitch punch. He fell to the ground, his alcohol spilling everywhere. He put a hand up to his injured eye, his friends stepping closer to me, but backing away when I approached them.
“Unless you boys all want matching eyes, I suggest you all find a girl who wants to be molested and degraded tonight.” I told them as James and I went inside.
“What a bitch!” I could hear the guy that now wore the evidence of my strong right hook on his face.
“That was nice honey.” James whispered into my ear as we entered the house.
“I'll show you something nice tonight...if you would like?” I replied as I looked at him with my wanting, sexual eyes. He raised a
n eyebrow as he looked at me.
“Oh
that sounds like fun.” He replied as he touched my ass, I laughed.
“I'll go look for Amanda if you want to go get some drinks.” I scanned the room.
“Yeah, if these camels haven't drank it all yet.” James replied as he ventured off into the crowd. I stood next to the entertainment center in my skinny black jeans and red top as I gazed out upon the crowd of people. As the men walked by they had to check me out, with my skinny jeans and my busty top it was hard for them not to look at me. I smiled as I too ventured out in search of Amanda. I made my way to the back of the house towards the kitchen where I heard that familiar high pitched laughter echo through my head, Amanda. I turned the corner next to the stairs as I faced the kitchen. There she was. The tall, blue eyed, blonde haired Barbie of a girl. She was my age, twenty or so, but she acted like she was sixteen and she looked like it as well. There were at least five or six men surrounding her, laughing at whenever she said, hoping that would increase their chances of getting laid. Shook my head as I rolled my eyes, she wore white pants with a baby blue top and a black bra.
“Oh man.” I said out loud as I entered the fray. The men all looked at me, their eyes locked on me as I walked up to Amanda. I put an arm around her as she flung her arms around me.
“I am so glad you could make it!” She squealed.
“I am
too!” I replied just as excitedly.
“I
thought you had to pack?” She asked as she grabbed me a drink and shoved it in my hand.
“I packed most of my things yesterday
.” I sipped the drink, it was strong, but it was just what I needed, if I were to survive the night.
“Guys this is my best
friend in the whole world, Odette!!!” Amanda introduced me; I smiled at them all as I sipped the red solo cup. They all of course smiled back.