Don't Touch Me Just Fix Me

You’d be amazed how time really does fly when you enjoy what you’re doing. It’s fulfilling to know you’re doing your job right. You feel like you’ve really achieved something. You know you’re doing well when they’re begging you to end it. I was half done bandaging his burns when he woke up. I was purposely being rough about it. By the time I was done he was praying to God to stop the pain and begging for me to kill him. I just smiled and pulled out his soup it was all I could do to keep from laughing. I dumped the usual crushed pill in it, not that he needed it I was sure he’d fall asleep from exhaustion, but I was already tired of his whining and I wanted him wide awake for what I had planned tomorrow. I arrived at the hotel a few minutes to 10 and went straight to sleep. 2 More days. It had to be tomorrow. I couldn’t wait any longer.

‘Early to bed, early to rise. Makes a person healthy, wealthy, and wise.’

I’m not sure if that’s true, but I woke up at 5am anyway. I’m not much of a morning person. After a luke warm shower, a short drive, and a venti chai passionfruit iced tea I was feeling much more like me. I headed towards a hardware shop and bought pliers, shears, a box cutter, and a large mallet. I had ideas, but wasn’t sure what I was going for just yet. The possibilities were endless and had I more time I’d go down the list leisurely. Since I only had 1 more day after today I figured it was best not to. I’ll just save that for another occasion.

I got back to the warehouse around 7, dragging my heels, the jet lag and all the work I had been doing was finally getting to me. As soon as I walked in I noticed he was awake.

“I hope you’re ready to tell m-” I began to say before he cut me off. “I’m ready to talk. You promise you’ll let me go after I tell you?”

“Of course, John! As soon as I make sure that you’re telling me the truth. And I hope you’ll be honest with me. Honesty is the best policy, you know.”

I pushed the table up to the map so he could see it better. Taking a pen and note pad out of my purse, I placed it under his head to push it forward, and put a tape recorder on his shoulder. He waited for me to get ready. I stood by the map to mark every spot.

“Speak”

I pushed record and he gave me everything. Every bit of information that I wanted. He even told me exactly how to get to them and what markers he left by each of the graves to make sure he could find them again if he needed to.

Now, I’m not much for planes, but I am one for dramatics. I’ve always had a love for them. I had the perfect 4th of July gift for the parents of those innocent children in mind. So I had no time to waste. By noon I was at the airport picking up my ticket and 2 hours later I was being squeezed between two of the most annoying men in the world. This was the last time I would ever ride on a plane. One man kept talking about his pet Earthworm and the other I would catch constantly staring down my shirt. We learn something new every day, I learned not to ride in coach ever again.

3 and a half hours and possibly the most awkward ride in my life, especially after 2 hours of non-stop chatter I told the Earthworm owner if he didn’t shut up I would force feed him his pet then he proceeded to cry the rest of the way there, we finally arrived in New York City, NY. It was kinda hot and muggy. As much as I enjoy the hot weather in Texas, this was making me drag my feet. In my haste to get here, I hadn’t taken into consideration where I was going to stay nor was I sure if I wanted to stay nearby or not. Where was I going to do what I needed to do? I know I say it constantly, but Lord, I need to learn how to plan everything out!

I left the airport heading to a rental car place right next door. I got myself a silver car, just like my one back home, I like these simple four door cars. No one notices them. I went to see a friend of mine I hadn’t seen since he moved to NYC. The stereotypical traffic in every movie about New York City, is really overdone. If you stay out of certain areas, it’s not so bad. I drove towards Lenox Hill Hospital stopping at a random pizza place picking up our favorite pizza, mushroom and pineapple. He had clinic duty, but was able to sneak away for me. It was late and he was hungry and I’m me. I never take ‘no’ for an answer.

I asked him for a few pills of some kind of sedative. He looked at me confused, but didn’t question me. He gave me a bottle of 500mg Vicodin. I do believe that would do nicely. We said our good-byes and I promised we would see each other on the upcoming holiday. Now all I had to do was find my way to that monster. You can find just about anything on the internet. The cops were hiding him at El Rancho Tropical. A crummy hotel on a pretty seedy side of the city. I drove through Hunts Point almost cringing the whole way. I had a real problem slipping into my black wig. It was awful here. It could be I’m a little prissy about these kinds of areas. I found my way to the hotel using my phone’s GPS. No maps this time. I parked my car and went inside. It was around 8pm, I doubted I’d find him tonight. I might as well get some rest.

As I was getting my room I noticed a thin, long shadow pass by me and the chills from getting the sense that you’re being stared at. There he was. That sick excuse for a human looking me up and down like a wolf looks at a sheep. Well, he’d learn soon enough what’s under this sheep’s skin. There were cops around him, I could see them, getting him away from them would be harder than I thought. I got my key and quickly got back to my car. Keeping my distance I followed them to a grimy, dingy bar. Stan’s Sports Bar. I parked behind the bar making sure to keep my car out of the way. He walked into the bar and the cops drove across the street to a small food joint. How lucky can a girl get? Pretty lucky considering who the girl is.

I had to give him credit. He was a pretty hard nut to crack. After spending a couple of hours and half a pack of cigarettes, that’s 12 cigarettes for you non-smokers, he had circular burns all over his body. I even put some between his toes. He was crying like there was no tomorrow, but he refused to tell me anything. I really had no choice, he was being very stubborn. From another bag I pulled out a long, thin metal rod and a hand held propane blowtorch. I set them down on the table with a loud crash of metal on metal. He watched me put on some heavy work gloves. My usual thin leather ones wouldn’t do the job today. Holding the metal rod in one gloved hand and the blowtorch in the other I stood in front of him. Taken from his facial expression, I doubt he liked where I was going with this. He didn’t even know the half of it.

Lighting the blowtorch I started heating the end of the metal rod. I should have picked thicker gloves. Even though these were making my hands sweat I could feel the heat and that was even worse. I got it as hot as I could handle then I treated him like a human piñata. I whacked him with this white hot piece of metal aiming for his upper thighs, his sides, and at one point I was just holding the tip of the rod against his face. I was hitting as hard as I could. I kinda had expected more blood, but obviously the hot metal was cauterizing his skin, but I didn’t want stop until I got all the blood my little heart desired. And it wanted a lot of blood.

I was dripping my ass off in sweat. This torture thing wasn’t my style. It was way more work than I had expected. Then again, I always expect people to bend to my will. Blood was dripping down his feet to the bricks and onto the floor. It wasn’t much, but he had passed out from the pain. I needed a break and I probably should find something to treat his wounds with. I wanted him in pain, not dead. The work of the wicked is never done. Luckily, I love what I do and I do what I love. I doubted he’d wake up any time soon. It’d be a good time to get some supplies and deal with his wounds. But first, I was in dire need of a shower.

I headed back to the hotel. I was starving, but I reeked to high heaven. After a good scrubbing in the, I’m not sure if I could call it a shower it was 90% soap scum, it did the job good enough. After driving around a bit I found the smallest Chinese restaurant I’ve ever been to. As they say, the best surprises come in small packages. To give it credit, it looked smaller from outside. It’s Hot and Sour soup… it was like an orgasm in your mouth. Trust me, I would know.

I got some wonton soup too, I’m sure he’d be hungry by now. I took my sweet time buying bandages, rubbing alcohol, and whatnot for all his burns and such. When I finally got back to the warehouse a few hours later he was still out of it. To my surprise I found a small group of rats gnawing at the blood stained ropes around his feet and at his toes. Soon, they could have more of him, but for now I needed him alive. I shooed them away. He was groaning softly as I untied him and laid him down on one of the metal tables. He was pretty light for a man. I tied his limbs to each leg of the table. This was a perfect position for what I had planned for next. I thought of all the fun we would have as I pulled out everything I bought to treat his wounds.

July 2nd, my days were dwindling down. I really wanted to have the information ready for the cops. I headed back to the warehouse around 8am after shopping at a local hardware store for a few things I needed for today. I wanted results and I wanted them soon. My stomach growled angrily at me. I had forgotten about dinner and almost forgot about breakfast. I may not like this side of NYC, but it had its advantages. Some of the best tacos I’ve ever had, besides in my grandma’s kitchen, were eaten there. He was still sleeping when I finally got back. Though this time I found him frowning, he had fresh tears running down his cheeks, and was mumbling about a “crazy bitch”. As much as I was enjoying him squirm, we had work to do. There really is no rest for the wicked, but then again the wicked have the most fun.

I cut some of the tape and untied the ropes keeping him attached to the chair. I had to cut the tape around his wrists and elbows so I could bind them again above his head. There were several hooks and chains on moving tracks hanging from the ceiling. I was able to reach one of the hooks and hoist him up. I tied bricks to his ankles to keep him from kicking and moving too much. I cut his pants off leaving his stained tightie whities on him. He didn’t wake up once. Damn, this was some strong stuff. I sat down looking at my work. It wasn’t pretty, but it’d do the job. Close enough. Lighting a cigarette I waited for him to wake up. I had a lot planned for us.

I didn’t have to wait too long. 20 minutes later I saw him lift his head drowsily and look around. He seemed to be confused and just looked at me in a kind of daze. It took him a few minutes before he realized what I had done. He started shaking, struggling against his bonds. It wouldn’t do much good. I made sure to make everything secure. As it hit him that he was screwed and in what kind of position he was stuck in, he began making this strange noise. I couldn’t really described it. Something between a whimper and a scream. Like his throat wasn’t sure which to do, what sound to make. I had to admit, I enjoyed watching him suffer. I started wondering if I was becoming a serial killer. Nah. Taking short drags from my cigarette I just sat and watched him.

Standing up I placed my cigarette on the edge of the table and grabbed him, pulling him over to the wall closest to him where I had left a bag of a few things we’d need today. From inside the bag I took out a map of New York and a small one of New York City pinning them up in front of him. I picked my cigarette back up taking another drag, making the cherry burn brightly, I smiled and said;

“Do you know what this map is, John?”

He started to say in a raspy voice “It’s a map of-… of New York.”

“That’s right, John. Of New York and of New York City. Now, before the day is over, I’d really like to have that filled, John. I’d be disappointed if it wasn’t. I don’t think you’d like to disappoint me, would you?” Talking to him like a child only ruffled his feathers.

“Go to hell, bitch” Each word dripping in venom.

I didn’t say a word as I walked over to him. Taking another hit I blew smoke at him and slowly caressed his face with the firy end of my cigarette. He screamed in pain as his flesh sizzled slightly. Tears started flowing from his eyes, I took my hankerchief and wiped them away. He looked at me confused as to what to do or say. I enjoyed smiling for him, it only added to his confusion.

“This could be easier, John, so much easier. Wouldn’t you prefer that?”

He was sniffling and whimpering like a child after a scolding, but he wasn’t saying a word.

“They always choose the hard way. I guess it’s going to be a long, hard day.”

I don’t watch the news anymore. Not for any stereotypical American reasons, but because I’ve always had a bad temper. It was June 30th, a beautiful Friday morning, one I thought would be like any other. I’ve always been an early bird. I like waking up early and going to bed late. I never sleep much. I was sitting on my bed enjoying a bowl of Fruity Pebbles while watching the news for the first time in weeks.

Suddenly there was a flash news report from New York City. A man’s face showed up on screen. He had raped and murdered 13 young boys and girls ranging from ages 3-10. He admitted to doing it. Had laughed at the police, told the media that he did it and the cops couldn’t do anything about it. If fact the police had to protect him until the trial. Not that the trail would do much. They had no solid proof. Some fibers that they found inside the house of one of the children that matched his van’s carpet, a couple of drops of blood, and a few strands of hair the same color as one of the children. The fibers could come from any carpet, they couldn’t extract any dna from the blood or the hair.

I don’t have much of a heart for humans. They’re one of the few creatures that disgust me, next to roaches and clowns. But I have a soft spot for children. I can’t stand stories about children being abused. They sicken me. And this story was no different. The more I heard the worse I felt. I ran towards the bathroom, turning the tv off as I scrambled past it. Vomitting in rainbow colors was a new one for me. It reminded me of unicorns. I crawled back to bed and just laid there.

How could someone do anything like that to a child? An innocent child. I have no pity for women or men, we all sin, but children are blameless. I couldn’t dream of hurting a child. Though, I could dream about hurting an evil man. I could also make that dream come true. I’ve never found it too hard to do it. This time I would be doing the world a favor.

Later that day I was buying a plane ticket to NYC on my laptop and had the tv on in the background. That man’s face flashed upon the screen again. He was bragging how the cops would never find the bodies of those children and he would never tell them. I had thought to make this quick and painless. Just to avenge those innocents. This changed everything. Those parents deserved to have the bodies of their children and the kids deserved to be buried. I would give that to them. As soon as I made him tell me everything.

Pushing him back into a sitting position he started whimpering as if every movement hurt. I stood behind him, pulled his head up by his hair, and jammed my gloved fingers down his throat making him gag and throw up all the water I had just forced him to swallow. He was gasping for air, taking deep breaths. I patted his head.

“Are you enjoying this, John? Having fun? Is it really worth keeping that secret?”

He slightly lifted his head looking up at me “That secret is the only thing keeping me alive right now.”

“Oh John! Ye of little faith! I told you, all you have to do is tell me where they all are and I’ll let you go.”

“I’d rather die, whore!”

“Not just yet, John. We still have many, many more games to play. Soon enough you’ll give me what I want, then I’ll set you free.”

Again we started another cycle; having him drink half a gallon of water, then pushing my fingers down into his throat, making him vomit up all of it, only to start over again filling him with water once more. We did it, over and over, until when I removed the rag I found blood on the end. I made him push out the water one last time, there was a slight trace of blood in the water too, giving it a pinkish look. I was starving and ready for some real sleep, but I had to take care of him first. It was late into the night. Around 10pm, I think. His head was bobbing, he was quiet, he didn’t even bother looking at me any more. He seemed exhausted. More than just drained, he was slowly being beaten. I do believe that was enough for today.

I didn’t say a word, I just left. I got into my car and found a little place that sold different kinds of soup. I bought a bowl of vegetable beef and headed back to the warehouse. On the way I crushed another pill and mixed it in with the soup. I was amazed when I heard him screaming from outside. I ran in and found him fallen on the floor trying to scare off a rat that had gotten too close to his face. I started to laugh, lightly kicking the rat away, it landed a few feet away squeeking at me indignantly. I got the chair back up right, he looked at me angrily. I giggled, pulling the table up to him, putting my feet flat on his lap.

“What happened, John? Did you have a fall?”

“Bitch, you know what happened!”

“I wasn’t here, John, how could I know what happened? I left to go get you dinner. I bet you’re starving by now, aren’t you?”

He looked away from me, but I saw him peek once I took the lid off the soup. “Come now, I’m not completely cruel. I don’t want you to starve to death.”

“That does smell good, what is it?”

“It’s vegetable soup with beef, would you like some?”

He was watching me stir the soup with a plastic spoon, it was steaming hot still and smelled great. I was tempted to eat it, but I knew what was in it. I leaned closer and offered him a spoonful of soup. He looked up at me as if he was trying to figure out what could be wrong with the soup that I was feeding it to him. But his stomach growled, I pushed the spoon against his lips and he opened them.

With every bite he took I dug my heels a little deeper into his lap. He was flinching in pain, but he kept eating. A few bites from finishing it was obvious the vicodin was taking effect. He was starting to spill it everywhere and was whimpering softly. He looked at me starry eyed, he couldn’t lift his head very well, I held it up by his chin.

Slurring his words he said “Y-y-ya druuugged meh?”.

“Yes, I did. Go to sleep.”

Not that he had much of a choice. He couldn’t fight it. His eyes closed and I let go of his head. He didn’t weigh much, even with the chair. I pushed him up on to the table. Hopefully away from the rats. I slowly walked to my car and headed to the hotel. I took a shower and 30 minutes to midnight I finally got to sleep.

We played that game for a couple more hours. Pushing him down, drowning him, him coughing up the water or me forcing it out of him, then sitting him up and asking him about the bodies. It was almost dinner time. I had taken a pause in our fun to feed my other taco to the rats, they were starting to get too close. I think a little attracted by his several near death experiences. I had to give him mouth-to-mouth at one point when kicking him didn’t bring him back. I almost considered letting him die, but I needed him alive. At least until I got everything I wanted out of him. He had passed out after this last one. I was hungry and wanted to leave, but you can’t leave a job unfinished. I’m not a “half-assed” person when it comes to work. While he was still out I went back down to the harbor filling the bucket up again.

When I walked in again I heard him mumbling to himself. Once I got closer I could hear what he was saying… the fucker.

“Don’t worry. No, no, I have a picture of my puppy in my van, Sport. I really need help finding him. I think his picture is over there in the back. Just get in and grab it for me.”

“Shush, shush, Sweetie. Don’t cry. It’s not so bad, it only hurts a little, right? Come now, smile for me. That’s a good girl.”

He kept mumbling, but I couldn’t hear any more. My anger was boiling over. He was smiling the whole time! I could see him getting hard against his pants! I wasn’t about to allow that! I stomped over to him and back handed him across his face as hard as I could. I left a few nice scratches that were already starting to bleed on his face, thanks to my rings. It was just the first of many. He woke up yowling in pain. I smiled at that. Nothing like the sound of someone in pain to make my heart fill with joy.

Causing the misery of a souless creature like the one before me is one of the purest and most sinful pleasures in the world. Just in case you didn’t know, let that clear up anyone’s disgust at my enjoyment. This thing deserved everything I had given him and everything I planned on giving him. It might be a stereotypical Texan thing, but he killed people, he deserved to die. On top of everything, he admitted to raping and killing children. Now if that doesn’t call for killing the guy, I don’t know what does. I’m sure most guys in the prison system would agree with me. If you don’t know what they do to children/women abusers in there, you should check the internet and just about every prison tv show and movie.

He was wide awake now. Staring at me with more hatred in his eyes than anyone has ever looked at me with. If looks could kill, I would be death warmed over twice. I only responded to his glare with a gentle smile. I caressed his face, his eyes actually softened, then I raised my other hand slapping him hard on his other cheek. This time he spewed an onslaught of words at me. Calling me every name under the sun. I laughed kicking him backwards so he was laying face up.

“John Daniel Oszart Jr.! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?!”

“Bitch, I kiss YOUR mother with this mouth and she never complains!”

“The dead can’t complain about the kind worms that infest them, Mr. Oszart.” My mother wasn’t dead, but that always shuts people up. As it did in this occasion. He just looked up at me with his mouth opened. I assume trying to think of what to say next. I had grown tired of his voice. Taking the rag I shoved it deep down his throat before he had the chance to say another word. He was screaming again, but the rag muffled him nicely. Taking the bucket I slowly poured a stream of water into his mouth onto the rag. Forcing him to drink about half the gallon of water in the bucket. I pulled the rag out, he moaned, his stomach looked bloated. Good.

I put my foot on his taped knees and knocked him down backwards. I didn’t say a word as I walked past him grabbing an old empty paint bucket. He yelled obscenities at me as I went back outside moving quickly through the gate scrambling down to the waterside. I dunked the bucket into the cold harbor then carefully heading back up to the warehouse making sure not to spill even a drop. I stopped and grabbed a pocket knife I always keep in my purse. Storming back into the warehouse I placed the bucket next to his head I sat down on his stomach and softly trailed my little knife across his face. The look he gave me was priceless.

“You didn’t answer me. How long do you think you could hold your breath, John? May I call you John?” He looked at me like I could be the devil Himself. He didn’t say a word, he just kept watching me.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, John. I hope you don’t mind losing your shirt. We’re going to need it.” I stabbed into his shirt cutting it off him. As much as I enjoy Led Zepplin, it gave me goosebumps hearing him whimper and struggle against the duct tape and rope when I slipped my knife easily through the fabric.

“No, no. John, come now. Where is the big bad man who wanted to teach me a lesson? How about this, if you tell me where the bodies are, I’ll let you go. What do you think?”

He spit at my face missing me just barely. “Bitch, nothing in this world could make me tell you where I keep my spare change!”

“Oh, we’ll change your mind soon enough, John. Breathe deep.”

I slid up to his chest placing the rag over his face and grabbing the bucket. He was already straining from my weight on him. I slowly started to pour the water over his ripped shirt. I poured half the bucket on him. I paused for a minute. The gurgling and gasping for air gave me shivers. I knew I had to stop or he would drown, but then again, he did call me a bitch. I wouldn’t want to disappoint him. I picked the bucket up again and I let the rest of the water trickle down onto his face.

He was trying desperately to shake the rag off. Gagging and choking on the icy water then it all stopped. If music soothes the savage beast, the sounds of suffering calms the sadistic soul, but quiet displeases all. I stood up knocking the chair over on its side and pulling the rag off his face. Some water spilled out of his mouth, but he wasn’t moving. I gave him a quick kick in the center of his chest with my point of my shoe. That got his attention. He started to sputter and cough up more of the water.

I kneeled down to his eye level and patted his cheek. I grabbed the sides of the chair pulling him back into a sitting position. I pulled the table closer to him sitting down on it again. He looked at me with this dazed expression for awhile just staring quietly.

“Who are you?” He finally said to me.

“I’m no one special, John. I’m just your average, run of the mill person.”

He shook his head. “No. You say I’m bad, but you, you’re a demon or something. You can’t be human!”

“John, I’m just a simple woman. A simple woman who enjoys special pleasures. We don’t have to do this. You could tell me where the bodies are. You can stop all of this, right now. All you have to do is tell me.”

Looking straight into my eyes “Go to Hell, cunt.”

Smiling, I stood back up and grabbed the handle of the bucket. “I was hoping you’d say that, John.” I said as I walked back outside towards the harbor.

Apparently 11ish meant 9ish to that asshole. It barely hit 9 before I got a phone call from the girl I had left in my hotel room she was calling from the lobby like I had asked her to in the note. She thanked me for all I did, but she wasn’t really sure where to go from there and had no idea where she was. I told her to stay in there and I would come pick her up and drop her off wherever she wanted. When I got to the hotel she was standing in the front waiting for me. Freshly showered and in her clean clothes, she really was a pretty little thing. She hopped in and I offered her the rest of my luke warm latte. She drank it with gusto finishing it off with a happy sigh. She reminded me of a child. I buckled her in and after fiddling with my phone started towards Hunter College.

Mu Sigma Upsilon house is where I stopped. It bothered me and I asked if I could leave her anywhere else. She told me no, her folks lived in Georgia and her older sister was in Cali. I gave her my real number and told her should she ever need anything or anyone or even just someone to talk to that I was always a phone call away. She thanked me repeatedly while hugging me tightly. I watched her run into the house and wave to me as I drove away. Silly child, she didn’t learn my name until about a week later when she called me for the first time. I’m not sure why I did it, but I got attached to her. I was there when she graduated. I took her to Paris, France for her birthday once. I even let her meet the love of my life, but that is another tale for another time.

By the time I made my way back to the warehouse it was 11, I had stopped at a taco truck and got two chorizo and potato tacos. I was munching happily on my first one when I walked in. The first thing I heard besides the clicking of my shoes on the cement were the muffled screams of my soon-to-be victim. I guess he was awake now. I almost choked on my food laughing when I saw him. The idiot had knocked the chair over and had a foul odor waifting from obviously soiling himself. Good, he should be scared. If only he knew what was going through my mind.

I sat down on an old metal table enjoying his screams and my breakfast. I took the last bite of my first taco. I decided I felt like talking to my captive. Yanking the tape off his mouth, taking some of his scruff with it, leaving behind bright red patches of skin where the tape had pulled out hair. He let out a lovely scream that echoed throughout the building. It made me laugh. I sat back down on the table pulling out the second taco. He looked at me, possibly with the most hateful look I’ve ever seen pointed towards me. It only made me more gleeful. I just smiled at him quietly. Suddenly he started spouting a seemingly endless chain of cuss words. Calling me every name in the book.

“Now, now, Mr. Oszart, that’s no way to talk to a lady.” I had hopped off my perch on the table and started circling him.

“I don’t see any lady, all I see is a bitch who needs to be taught a lesson!” He kept turning his head wildly trying to keep an eye on me.

“Maybe so, sir, but I’ve never been a good student and you’re no teacher. No, you’re much worse. Aren’t you Mr. Oszart?”

He actually had the audacity to smirk at me! “Is that what all this is about? Are you a mom out on a vendetta? Gonna stop the mean man and save children? How boring.”

I wanted to snap, I was tempted to kill him now, but all I did was smirk right back. “How long do you think you can hold your breath, John?”

It was almost midnight as I undressed the girl in my hotel room, giving her one of my shirts to wear, then tucking her into my bed. She whimpered as I walked towards the door to leave, I really am a softie sometimes. I kneeled by the bed I started caressing her face and kissed her forehead. “Don’t you worry, dear. I’ll be back soon, okay? You just sleep. I have to take care of my friend.”. She nodded and curled up, falling right to sleep. I gathered her clothes in a plastic bag and went down to the front desk. No one was there. I rang the bell several times and a very annoyed and very large Hispanic man came up. I gave him the bag and a note. I wanted the clothes washed and the note delivered to my room around 11 with a some asprin, a bottle of water, and something to eat. He started to say they weren’t that kind of hotel. I slapped 50 dollars down on the desk and walked away. As they say, money talks.

I got back into the car, he was still knocked out. Good. I was already tired and didn’t need a fight. We drove around. I had picked up some rope, duct tape, and a wooden chair from Wal*Mart when I bought this cheap little phone. I turned mine off. No reason to have my phone placed anywhere near the murder site. If I ever found it. It was 3am when I turned my radio on. It was a report on him, the cops just discovered he was gone, no one is sure where he went, but they’re out looking for him. Shit. I needed to find a place to hide him and soon. I kept driving on, time was going faster than usual it seemed. Three more hours and I couldn’t find anything. I was beginning to think maybe I should give up. This was starting to get too dangerous for me. If there’s one thing I didn’t want is to get caught.

A cop passed by me and I almost jumped out of my skin. You might think I’m tough and you’d be wrong in that assumption. I just enjoy killing people. Especially if they deserve it and if anyone deserved it, he certainly did. I drove around another hour, looking at different buildings, until I finally discovered a lonely brick building. It was staring out over the harbor, dark and foreboding, almost making me shiver. It was a decent distance from the other buildings around it and it had 3 floors. I prayed that it was empty. I had no idea what it would be like inside, but I knew that if there were any people inside it wouldn’t be easy getting back out.

I went in anyway. I was slowly moving around the first floor only guided by the moonlight. Besides some of the biggest rats I’d ever seen and a lot of rusty, unused machinery it was empty as far as I could see. Thank God. I did not need more work. But that was just the one floor and there wasn’t enough light for the other floors. I was just going to have to risk it. I couldn’t be seen with this thing slumped in my backseat. I dragged everything into the building setting up the chair and putting the bag with the rope and tape on the ground. I half dragged, half carried him in then dumped him down on the wooden seat. I tied him down first with the rope, securing his wrists together, his chest to the back of the chair, his legs to the legs of the chair. I took the duct tape and taped his elbows and his knees together then his mouth.

It was almost 8 when I finished. I was tired and needed some kind of sleep. Jet lag, then all this excitement, I just wanted a nap… Or maybe some coffee. I have a horrible coffee addiction. I drove around a bit found myself a Starbucks. One of the few loves of my life. The sun was up and there were already a bunch of yuppies sitting around drinking tea and writing the next “best seller”. I grabbed my favorite latte flavor and headed outside away from all the incessant clicking. I watched the world walk by, I was enjoying my latte and the beat of New York City’s heart. I almost forgot I had work to do.

As I slipped into the back entrance I was bombarded by loud yells of drunken frat boys, high pitch squeals of Sorority girls, and a smell I can only describe as grotesque beyond all reason. It was crowded, a good and bad thing. I went to the women’s bathroom. If you could call it that. It was flooded with about an inch of pale green water. I walked slowly in it up to the sink. Taking out two pills I crushed them up into a powder using a corner of my phone and brushing it into a small evelope. It was only a matter of time now.

It was at that moment I looked up and noticed a lanky, nerdy looking black girl with a large set of tits. She didn’t even look old enough to be drinking. Her glasses were askew and she had vomit all over her shirt and mouth. I wasn’t sure how much she had seen or if she even cared, but I couldn’t take any chances I needed this to go without a hitch. I smiled what I hoped was a soft, comforting smile and motioned for her to come closer to me.

“Come here, honey child. You look dreadful. What are you doing in a place like this, hmm?” I said to her letting my Southern accent take over. This seemed to make her feel better and she walked over to me sloshing water into my shoe. She smiled back and replied in the sweetest little voice “Do I, ma’am? I’m not sure, I came with some girls from my sorority. I only got in because of my older sister. I don’t think they like me very much. They left me here and went somewhere else. I don’t know New York very well yet, I’m from Georgia.” I cleaned her face with my handkerchief, straightened her glasses, and wiped some of the vomit from her shirt. “Well, my darling Georgia Peach, I’ll take you with me and we can figure out what to do after that, but first I have to meet a friend of mine. Go out back and find a silver car, just wait there for me.” She seemed relieved at that idea. I ushered her to the door and she went out the back. I’m a sucker for sob stories, I suppose.

I walked to the bar, Mr. Scum of the Universe saw me and got up moving over to me, he already had half his beer gone and was already starting to wobble. Heh, only a boy can’t handle his booze. He came at me with possibly the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard “I’ve been looking at your eyes all night long, ‘cause I’ve never seen such dark eyes with so much light in them.”. I pasted on a fake flirty smile and he sat down. I ordered my favorite drink, a shot, Cowboy Cocksucker. His eyes lighted up as if he had just hit the jackpot. I took it down fast and chased it with a watered down shot of vodka. Cheap bastards. We talked for 30 minutes I leaned over the bar and whispered into his ear “Hey, this place sucks. You wanna get out of here? I have my car in the back.” as I dumped everything into his second beer and mixed it with my finger. He got up quickly and was trying to drag me off when I yanked him back laughing “Hey! You can’t just leave your beer here! What kind of guy wastes a beer?!”. He didn’t say a word, just grabbed it and chugged it all down, then grabbed my hand and started dragging me to the back of the bar. We didn’t get 2 feet past the door when he fell. Damn, fast acting stuff.

I laughed. Looking around to make sure no one had seen us I saw the girl next to my car asleep against the wheel. I had almost forgotten about her. I’ll stop by my hotel first and make sure she gets taken care of. I figured I’d have to buy a crappy little phone just for tonight so in case they needed me they could call me for her. I some how got him to the car. He was being hit hard. Maybe 1000mg was too much? Oh well, I shoved him into the backseat. Gently waking the girl up I got her to sit in the front and let me buckle her up. Good Lord, I always get myself into such messes.

They say with time everything gets easier, this is true about lots of things, even murder.

I had met him on a website for games. He was 21 years old, 6’3”, 220 (a good deal of that muscle), blonde hair, blue eyes, and training to get into the Marine Corps. In other words, probably the most gorgeous man I had ever known in my 16 years of life. I never would have imagined we’d ever end up the way we did.

He was my brother, my hero, the only man I looked up to. I put him on a pedestal and no matter who I dated, no one could live up to who and what he was to me. If he didn’t approve of someone, I didn’t last very long with them. Nothing in the world could convince me he could ever be wrong. In my eyes, he could do no wrong.

Like things of that nature tend to do, I soon realized he was as human as the rest of us. After two tours into the Middle East, he came back changed, at the time and even today, I couldn’t tell you if it was for the best or worse. All I know is that, I wasn’t his little sister anymore and he wasn’t my big brother.

I don’t remember the exact date, but I know I was still in High School, it was my Senior year. That’s when things became something completely different between us. We started this destructive cycle. We would talk (Mostly sexually and even more often than not abusive), we would fight, we would stop talking for months on end, then he would come looking for me, and the cycle would start again. I was never sure what we were, but I knew we could never go back to what we had been.

Even after he was married and had a child, he would always come looking for me. We had this strange, dark love obsession and would always come together in an explosion of anger and passion. We went from faux siblings to Master and Slave to I’m not sure what, after awhile I just didn’t care as long as I had his attention and love. Something I always gave him freely, but he had always kept at a distance from me.

Until one fall day, fall always seems to bring the worst out of me, he came to me, for the first time in a long time, honestly and lovingly. He told me about the lies and double life his wife had been living. He said he didn’t care, it happened months ago, and he was over it. He was always a hard nut to crack and now wasn’t any different. I didn’t care much and he didn’t allow me to worry about it, I was his and he was mine, that was that. And for awhile, that was enough.

It was his wife that would eventually be the reason for me to go visit him and see him for the first time in real life. I didn’t know much about her, only that she was lovely, her name, she was married to him, and had cheated on him and her marriage vows to be with an Army boy. Because of him I have a great deal of respect for his particular branch of the Military and very little for all the others. Dispite that I still had a strong dislike for anyone who would cheat on someone in any of the branches.

To tell the truth, I had a bad jealous streak. Given the chance I would keep all of him to myself. It didn’t take me too long to figure out what I wanted to do, I wasn’t sure how or what, but knowing how my mind works I knew I would find a way eventually. Just to be fair, I didn’t do it solely for my own gain, he was miserable with her. At least he led me to believe he was.

It took a few weeks, I had almost forgotten the whole thing, as the days passed by I thought the idea to get rid of her would be silly. She wasn’t really in the way, just something like an irritating fly buzzing around us, making us hide everything we did. Then again, I hate flies and if I could, I’d kill them as soon as I could. I was skimming the web and texting back and forth with him, when it struck me… Poison, poison would be fun indeed.

I could drive up there and poison her, it wouldn’t be too hard with the right kind of poison. I wondered what would be the best way to give it to her, what would be the best kind, which kills the fastest? After searching Google for awhile, it wasn’t long before I knew what I was going to use, my only question was how I would get it in her? Oh well, I never was one to plan things out. At least this time I wouldn’t have to worry about the body.

“If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again. And if that shit don’t work, then fuck it.” I’d like to say they’re good words to live by, I’d usually agree, but not today. No, once I get into my mindset, nothing can stop me. It took 7 different stores and too many hours for me to realize… I could find what I was looking for in the back of the flea market. You can find just about anything you wanted back there and if you couldn’t find what you wanted, you could find someone who could get it for you.

Another Sunday spent working against God, what can I say? He and I have never seen eye to eye with the direction of my life. I travelled up to the biggest flea market in town. Well, technically outside of town. Poteet wasn’t too far from home and on the way there I was able to put a blonde wig on and some big sunglasses. Perhaps a little overly done, but I learned a bit from last time.

Walking in I couldn’t resist getting a roasted corn with all the typical fixin’s; butter, chilé powder, and the weirdest yet most delicious gloop of I don’t know what, have you ever tried one? If you haven’t, you should. I slipped quietly past all the people making my way to the back, soon enough there it was. That one row of stands with “New”(stolen) products, “Unique”(useless or illegal) items, and so forth and so on. I came up to a stand selling “exotic pets”, frankly I don’t think bunnies are very exotic, but that’s the point, to look as innocent as possible.

I went to the tiny aquatic section, mostly what looked like tadpoles and minnows, and pretended to look interested in buying some. When the owner of the stand came up, a dirty, scrawny Mexican, he asked me if I found every thing I was looking for. I said the fishes were cute, but I was looking for something a little different. I smiled and told him what I wanted, said I’d be there next week and if he didn’t have what I wanted I would take my money else where, then walked away.

I came back the next Sunday. He was almost surprised to see me, getting over it quickly he rushed me over towards the fishes and sitting in a big bowl was the loveliest White-spotted Puffer I had ever seen. I handed him the money, put a cover over the bowl, and walked back to my car grinning to myself.

Have you ever tried to kill an animal? I have to say, it’s a LOT harder than killing a person. First of all, animals have those big eyes that beg you “Don’t kill me. I’m innocent and cute!” and puffer fish always seem to be smiling, they’re just about the most adorable poisonous fish out there. I cried a little as I cut him open. Apparently fishes do make sounds and his little noise made me think he was screaming “Et tu, Owner? Et tu?”. I probably should have just asked that Mexican for the liver alone. It would have been a lot easier, but then I suppose I wouldn’t have known if it was the right liver.

Looking inside of it wasn’t pleasant and the smell was, of course, fishy as hell. I couldn’t hold onto things very well with these rubber gloves. They were more for washing dishes and other cleaning. I should consider buying some doctor gloves. Just in case. It took me awhile, but I finally found the tiny liver. I had a syringe ready to suck the poisons out of it. If I could have trusted it to work with her just eating it, I’d have found a way to made her eat it, but this way was just easier. Violence is always the answer.

It took a few tries, but in the end I had a mixure of puffer poison, liver bits, blood, and only God knows what else filling my syringe. Sitting there looking at it I wasn’t completely sure if this would work. Supposedly it only takes 0.0002oz of this poison to kill a 170lb person. I had only seen his wife a few times, she was about that if not less. If this worked, it wouldn’t take long.

Checking out the local Home Depot, I bought this product I had seen on tv, it’s a type of rubber spray. Flex Spray, pretty nifty stuff. Despite what it says, it doesn’t take much to peel it off of a smooth surface. If sprayed the right way, it could turn a ‘s’ into an 8 and a 4 into an ‘a’. I never said it was perfect, just that it’d be convincing enough. I bought that and a small ice chest.

Kearneysville, West Virginia. I had never been there, except in my dreams a few many times, but soon enough I’d be there. I stuffed a bag full of clothes, made sure to take a pair of leather gloves and my favorite wig, I knew I’d need them in the end. I tossed everything in the car, buckled the ice chest down, put on my “bug eyes” sunglasses (That’s what my aunt calls them), and off I went… onto another “adventure”.