The job I currently do I would be doing anyway if Tyke hadn’t found me. Actually, when he found me I was sitting in a pool of blood from my first victim. A man that tried dragging an innocent girl into an alley to do bad things to her. She was screaming and no one stopped to help her. I was a block away and I heard her screaming. Society is bad, so I stepped in.
Maybe I shouldn’t have?
Maybe I should have?
Who knows, but taking that man’s life from him was the best rush I’ve ever experienced. He let the girl go when I entered the alley in nothing but a short dress and heels, and a cigarette in my mouth. His dick was hard and hung from his pants. He was revolting.
I only just recently visited a pawn shop where I went to buy myself a gun for protection. However, I walked out with shooting stars; two beautiful shiny stars that shined so bright I knew I had to have them. A skull was engraved in the center and it was a perfect fit for my black soul. You see, I have bad ideas and I want to act on them, and I want to make someone pay for what they get off so easily for within the law. It isn’t right that a rapist or pedophile can walk free with just a slap on the wrist.
I had no idea at the time what my plan was, but I knew I couldn’t sit back and do nothing.
“You made me let go of a sweet thing so I can have a go in your sweet thing didn’t you, baby?”
I recall his first words to me like it was yesterday.
His dick was in his hand and he started palming it.
I squeezed my palms shut and dug my nails into my skin. I needed to believe this was real, that this man was standing in front of me and that I could do something about it. I could feel my skin break, blood staining my palms.
“You like to take what’s not yours?” I asked him, releasing the death grip on my bleeding palms. I could hear the trickle of blood as each droplet hit the cement below me.
“You are all whores. When you scream no, it just means you want it more.” He was stepping closer. I was half expecting to smell alcohol on him, but he was sober which surprised me.
“So you take?” I asked, knowing it wasn’t a question but a statement.
He was stepping closer, still with his cock in his hand. I didn’t know what I planned to do; I just knew he wasn’t walking out of this alley alive.
He reached for me in a quick movement and that had me pinned to the wall. I wasn’t afraid. I knew that I’d hurt him. Though it was a guessing game as to who would get hurt first.
“You’re a little too old for me. I like them young, but you’ll do till I can find what I want.” His free hand palmed under my dress. While he was occupied I reached into my bra and pulled out my star. His eyes were rolling back into his head, no doubt thinking about the pleasure that was to come. Only it wouldn’t be him receiving pleasure. He never saw me coming. I stabbed him in his neck and straight into his jugular vein. He had gasped twice before he collapsed in front of me onto the ground. Blood was spurting from his neck. I stood there, so bewitched by what was happening in front of me that I never saw that there was someone watching me.
I remember watching Tyke walk into my direct line of sight and look down at the guy who was holding his neck, now dead. His eyes darted to mine and I was shocked when one side of his mouth lifted up in a smirk.
“I have a job for you,” he said and handed me a card. He never said what or who he was. He winked at me before he left and never looked back.
I watched his retreating form, wondering what his angle was.
Why would he be interested in me?
What was in it for him?
It took me a week to call him and when I did, I was surprised by what he offered. He wanted my help. I didn’t quite understand till he sent me on my first assignment; it was to the home of a pedophile. My text message requested that I dressed young. That particular job took me a total of twenty minutes. I never looked back after that. The rush was too much and too addictive. I knew this was what I had to do and what I was to become.
I’m not always a serial killer. I do like to have fun. I don’t have friends and I don’t need them. I can’t take the risk of letting someone get close to me without exposing myself. If I do, I risk all that I have done – all the good, plus the bad. People ask questions that they can’t handle the answers to. A simple question could lead to an answer they can’t handle.
I have a job later tonight, but at the moment I’m bored. I have no buzz. Just as I’m walking past a coffee house to head to the party, something catches my eye. It’s the laughing man, the man from the frat party. He’s sitting down by himself staring at the screen of his cell with a furrowed brow. He must feel my stare because he looks up and straight at me. He doesn’t smile or laugh like I expected, he just stares. I do the same and stare back trying to work out this fascinating man. I stand there for a few minutes before I walk inside and head straight for him. His eyes never leave mine. I take a seat in front of him and smile; he doesn’t.