They would be hunting me. I knew that for some time. They had started a few days ago; I had watched them, laughing at their stupidity. They’d fallen all over themselves to track someone who was right under their noses. I was covering my tracks exceptionally well for being so busy all the time.
Going out at night provided a safe and plausible excuse for the morning. I’d always said I went to take a walk, or had to go into work so I wouldn’t be questioned. I’d be back before the sun rose. Skipping out in the afternoon was harder, but manageable.
The first time I thought of killing someone I was twelve. One of the kids I met when I was out with my father taunted me. When I told him I would kill him, he knew better than to open his mouth again. All my father did was laugh and tell me I had a vile imagination.
He would be horrified to know just how absolutely fucked up my mind really was. He would not chuckle if he could see me now. If he had known what I had done, all the women I had killed in cold blood. He would hate me.
Undoubtedly, I am a monster. Sometimes I wished I could have stopped before I started, but this was the urge to kill, there was no going back. Oh, don’t think that the women I killed didn’t deserve it, because they did. All of their dumb, doe-eyed expressions as they saw me, when they talked to me, left with me. They didn’t know what was coming.
The only one they did not find was the woman from the bar. I did not kill her, not then. I left her alive, told her to stay away for a few days. When I had heard that she was back in town, I tracked her down, slit her throat, and stuffed her into a garbage bag. She barely had time to scream.
The others were easier than her, especially the first one. She was stupid, wanting more than I was giving her. She had bothered me so much with her incessant nagging that I had no choice but to stalk her later that night and I ended up strangling her.
After her, the rest were built around spontaneity. I hadn’t meant to change the way I killed them, it just happened. I’m surprised it didn’t throw the Aurors off, but I guess that would mean they weren’t the best at their job.
I had watched them work around the clock to piece together who I was. It still made me laugh because they already knew. They had befriended me. I was clean. I never left a trail of anything behind, never gave them reason to suspect.
I knew how this would end when I killed the last one. I would do it slowly, taking all of the pleasure I didn’t get from the others into making her beg for her life. Her rejection had proved too much; it had twisted my mind into unleashing something horrible upon this town. When I was finished with her, I would surrender myself.
At least then my plan would be complete. They could do whatever they wanted with me. They could even kill me if they wished. I only hoped that the girl’s friend would smash in my face with those heels she constantly wore. If I had any energy after that, maybe I would tell her what I knew she wanted to hear - that I was sorry for killing her best friend.
I grinned to myself as I walked down the street to the apartment. I knew she was waiting there, but would not expect me, at least not like this. I felt that familiar tune slide past my lips again. I never whistled it around her, I never dared. I never gave myself away to her. She was probably the stupidest of them all.
I passed a venue on the street that sold flowers. I picked a few different ones and went on my way. Very soon I would knock on the door, present her with this bouquet, and slam the door behind me. Everything I worked so hard to achieve would be finished, even my intended incarceration.
I told myself I would not lose control. I could not afford to. I had so many opportunities to end her but I refused to take them. She had become far too precious in such a short time that I couldn’t see myself wasting her right away.
Save the best for last was the saying, wasn’t it?
A soft breeze picked up and I could smell the orchids she had placed on the railing outside on the balcony. No other flower had eluded my senses. I knew it was her. I knew I was close to taking her.
As I turned the corner, I gazed up at the window, and watched her staring out into the sky, her brown eyes calm as her long red hair twisted around her arms. Then she saw me and smiled.
I kept my composure as I walked up the steps and into the hall. When I stopped at the door, I pressed my ear against it. I heard nothing. It was soundproof. Again, a grin flitted across my mouth and I rapped my knuckles on the door.
____
I watched the man across from me, notepad in hand, and a confused look on his face. His expression mirrored hers exactly. He shifted in his chair and watched me. All I did was smile at him.
“Why did you do it?” he asked.
He had allowed me to smoke in here, which I seldom did, but today was special. Today was the anniversary of her death. I wanted to celebrate. I took a drag from the cigarette I held and let the ashes fall onto the carpet before answering.
“I watched my father kill hundreds of people,” I said without a hint of fear. “I thought it would be much more difficult to end someone’s life than it actually was. You should try it one day, it’s invigorating.”
“I don’t think I will,” the man said sternly. “Tell me again, how did they find out that it was you who killed all of those women?”
I wanted to laugh. “The lead Auror on the case – the last victim was his little sister. She and I were lovers, you see. Then there was the strand of hair I didn't realize I left on her body.”
“You mentioned the hair,” the psychiatrist muttered. “Something else that intrigued me about this whole thing – how were you able to keep yourself from another woman when you saw her?”
I smirked and took another drag. “I needed to have self control, doctor. That’s how it works. You control the rage, the animal part of you that wants to rip them apart. I don’t know how I did it. I was just able to control it.”
“Did this girl suspect?”
“Ginny,” I corrected him. I had never spoken her name before to him. “I don’t think she did. Her fear was far too great when I finally reacted.”
“What did you do to her?” He was nervous now. He had never asked this, not in all our sessions together.
I felt my lips turn up into a faint smile as I leaned over and put the cigarette out on his desk. I watched the hole in the wood smoke for a moment before I spoke.
“I told her I loved her and then I killed her. She never saw it coming. I played my part perfectly.”
“And what about her? What was her part in all of this?”
“She knew from the beginning that she was fated to die since redheads were being killed,” I replied, dragging a hand through my hair. “I just prolonged the inevitable until the time was right.”
Before he could reply, I heard that sound of a bell. It signaled the end of the session. I stood quietly and headed for the door, and without looking back, I left the room.
I was escorted back to my room by a large man. He was the one who had taken hold of me when they first brought me in a few weeks ago. I looked up at him and smirked.
“Any visitors?” I asked.
“No.”
I nodded as he unlocked the door to my cell and shoved me inside. When he left, I stared after him until he was out of sight. I smiled again. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
“Is he gone?” she asked.
I turned around and nodded as she moved her red hair out of her eyes. There was blood dripping down her temple, there were bruises on her face and forearms, and her eyes looked hollow, but I didn’t care. I knew how she had gotten those wounds.
She moved to me, her hands outstretched, wrapping through my blond hair when she was close enough. “You don’t have to be alone anymore,” she whispered. I felt something on my shoulder – her blood had ruined my white outfit.
“I’m glad you came,” I said. “So very glad.”
Going out at night provided a safe and plausible excuse for the morning. I’d always said I went to take a walk, or had to go into work so I wouldn’t be questioned. I’d be back before the sun rose. Skipping out in the afternoon was harder, but manageable.
The first time I thought of killing someone I was twelve. One of the kids I met when I was out with my father taunted me. When I told him I would kill him, he knew better than to open his mouth again. All my father did was laugh and tell me I had a vile imagination.
He would be horrified to know just how absolutely fucked up my mind really was. He would not chuckle if he could see me now. If he had known what I had done, all the women I had killed in cold blood. He would hate me.
Undoubtedly, I am a monster. Sometimes I wished I could have stopped before I started, but this was the urge to kill, there was no going back. Oh, don’t think that the women I killed didn’t deserve it, because they did. All of their dumb, doe-eyed expressions as they saw me, when they talked to me, left with me. They didn’t know what was coming.
The only one they did not find was the woman from the bar. I did not kill her, not then. I left her alive, told her to stay away for a few days. When I had heard that she was back in town, I tracked her down, slit her throat, and stuffed her into a garbage bag. She barely had time to scream.
The others were easier than her, especially the first one. She was stupid, wanting more than I was giving her. She had bothered me so much with her incessant nagging that I had no choice but to stalk her later that night and I ended up strangling her.
After her, the rest were built around spontaneity. I hadn’t meant to change the way I killed them, it just happened. I’m surprised it didn’t throw the Aurors off, but I guess that would mean they weren’t the best at their job.
I had watched them work around the clock to piece together who I was. It still made me laugh because they already knew. They had befriended me. I was clean. I never left a trail of anything behind, never gave them reason to suspect.
I knew how this would end when I killed the last one. I would do it slowly, taking all of the pleasure I didn’t get from the others into making her beg for her life. Her rejection had proved too much; it had twisted my mind into unleashing something horrible upon this town. When I was finished with her, I would surrender myself.
At least then my plan would be complete. They could do whatever they wanted with me. They could even kill me if they wished. I only hoped that the girl’s friend would smash in my face with those heels she constantly wore. If I had any energy after that, maybe I would tell her what I knew she wanted to hear - that I was sorry for killing her best friend.
I grinned to myself as I walked down the street to the apartment. I knew she was waiting there, but would not expect me, at least not like this. I felt that familiar tune slide past my lips again. I never whistled it around her, I never dared. I never gave myself away to her. She was probably the stupidest of them all.
I passed a venue on the street that sold flowers. I picked a few different ones and went on my way. Very soon I would knock on the door, present her with this bouquet, and slam the door behind me. Everything I worked so hard to achieve would be finished, even my intended incarceration.
I told myself I would not lose control. I could not afford to. I had so many opportunities to end her but I refused to take them. She had become far too precious in such a short time that I couldn’t see myself wasting her right away.
Save the best for last was the saying, wasn’t it?
A soft breeze picked up and I could smell the orchids she had placed on the railing outside on the balcony. No other flower had eluded my senses. I knew it was her. I knew I was close to taking her.
As I turned the corner, I gazed up at the window, and watched her staring out into the sky, her brown eyes calm as her long red hair twisted around her arms. Then she saw me and smiled.
I kept my composure as I walked up the steps and into the hall. When I stopped at the door, I pressed my ear against it. I heard nothing. It was soundproof. Again, a grin flitted across my mouth and I rapped my knuckles on the door.
I watched the man across from me, notepad in hand, and a confused look on his face. His expression mirrored hers exactly. He shifted in his chair and watched me. All I did was smile at him.
“Why did you do it?” he asked.
He had allowed me to smoke in here, which I seldom did, but today was special. Today was the anniversary of her death. I wanted to celebrate. I took a drag from the cigarette I held and let the ashes fall onto the carpet before answering.
“I watched my father kill hundreds of people,” I said without a hint of fear. “I thought it would be much more difficult to end someone’s life than it actually was. You should try it one day, it’s invigorating.”
“I don’t think I will,” the man said sternly. “Tell me again, how did they find out that it was you who killed all of those women?”
I wanted to laugh. “The lead Auror on the case – the last victim was his little sister. She and I were lovers, you see. Then there was the strand of hair I didn't realize I left on her body.”
“You mentioned the hair,” the psychiatrist muttered. “Something else that intrigued me about this whole thing – how were you able to keep yourself from another woman when you saw her?”
I smirked and took another drag. “I needed to have self control, doctor. That’s how it works. You control the rage, the animal part of you that wants to rip them apart. I don’t know how I did it. I was just able to control it.”
“Did this girl suspect?”
“Ginny,” I corrected him. I had never spoken her name before to him. “I don’t think she did. Her fear was far too great when I finally reacted.”
“What did you do to her?” He was nervous now. He had never asked this, not in all our sessions together.
I felt my lips turn up into a faint smile as I leaned over and put the cigarette out on his desk. I watched the hole in the wood smoke for a moment before I spoke.
“I told her I loved her and then I killed her. She never saw it coming. I played my part perfectly.”
“And what about her? What was her part in all of this?”
“She knew from the beginning that she was fated to die since redheads were being killed,” I replied, dragging a hand through my hair. “I just prolonged the inevitable until the time was right.”
Before he could reply, I heard that sound of a bell. It signaled the end of the session. I stood quietly and headed for the door, and without looking back, I left the room.
I was escorted back to my room by a large man. He was the one who had taken hold of me when they first brought me in a few weeks ago. I looked up at him and smirked.
“Any visitors?” I asked.
“No.”
I nodded as he unlocked the door to my cell and shoved me inside. When he left, I stared after him until he was out of sight. I smiled again. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
“Is he gone?” she asked.
I turned around and nodded as she moved her red hair out of her eyes. There was blood dripping down her temple, there were bruises on her face and forearms, and her eyes looked hollow, but I didn’t care. I knew how she had gotten those wounds.
She moved to me, her hands outstretched, wrapping through my blond hair when she was close enough. “You don’t have to be alone anymore,” she whispered. I felt something on my shoulder – her blood had ruined my white outfit.
“I’m glad you came,” I said. “So very glad.”
The End.
ReverseBeauty is the author of 10 other stories.
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