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October 17-18, 2020
Killer Confessions
The crisp air blew the stench of her body away from me, giving me a moment of clarity. I didn’t mind the smell of blood; it was the vomit I could live without. When they got sick, it was a foul and complicated clean up. The location wasn’t the best. This was a mishap, and she was a source for my anger, but I just couldn’t keep her any longer to do something more proper. She had vomited multiple times over from her idiotic alcohol consumption, and then some more during the stabby bits.
My head began to pound when I thought back to just an hour or so earlier. I was watching from the tree outside the window; this time, he had left the window open for me. One time, I could’ve understood. We hadn’t been on solid terms as a couple, but by now, had it not been obvious that we were meant to be?
That Bexley wasmine.
The mouth-breathing asshole was in my way, shoving his cock in her so violently that he was ruining her for me.
I looked around the town square. It was sleepy here in the early hours of the morning, but I had to be quick. There were still the occasional nighttime walkers that came to the square for the fountain sounds and gentle breeze.
Carol? No, Sheryl.
Marilynwas still leaking as I pulled her over the bricks and placed her against the giant oak in the center of the square. The rope was rough in my hands as I tied her into place. Her limbs were floppy and slippery. The whole experience became exhausting. I didn’t have a propensity for extreme cleanliness, but this was a pretty messy setup.
It used to be easier.
“Now come back inside before dark! I’ll have supper done, okay?” My mother was pestering me again as usual. I nodded my head to her face and rolled my eyes when she turned her back. I was always home on time, each time. Why wouldn’t I be?
I walked the dirt trail in the woods just behind our house. I had a makeshift craft area back here that was super-secret, and no one had even the slightest idea.
Little whimpers came to me as I got closer. Beside my craft table, I had set up a snare. Papa had taught me this one a while ago before we started camping trips because he needed to know I could help out.
When I got closer, I could make out that the whimpers were actually little cries from a cat. It was black haired, mostly, but had white patches on its tail and feet.
It was Petunia, Melissa’s cat. Melissa lived down our street and was in my class, too.
Petunia would be the perfect test this afternoon.
Millicent's knee slid in the liquid that was pooling beneath her exposed body. Cats and puppies were much simpler, and I really missed those carefree days. I finished securing the lower half of her body and stepped back to quickly admire her. I could’ve been tidier, but I wasn’t scared of them finding anything. I worked very hard from a young age to make sure I was never caught for any trouble I caused.
I had the knowledge to expand my kill areas and to change the method. Really, I didn't care how it got done. My first human kill was much sloppier than whomever this was. That day had been a lot of cleaning, but I learned as I went.
Lately, it’d felt different with Bex alongside me. We had some issues to work out, but I needed to be close to her. This way, I was. They looked enough like her in certain ways that mattered.
But they needed to be punished, not Bexley.
I pulled the Polaroids I had taken from tonight. Bex’s lips were perfectly soft, her skin the smoothest plane. Her mouth popped open, and her hands were cuffed above her. I could practically hear the screams from the photo, just as resounding as they were then.
Too bad his fucking mouth is all over her.
I crumpled the photo and shoved it into my pocket as I darted out of the square.
Chapter 9
October 18, 2020
Detective Bishop
I stared at the phone, frozen in place. I was gripping it so tight, I was surprised it didn’t shatter from the pressure and crash to the floor.
There’s another body, sir.
She’s still warm.
My fingers moved automatically over the smooth glass screen as I sent a text to my small team. Stan was still working, and Officer O’Neill would be able to meet us at the town square.
