Hearts in a Jar

I never pictured myself as a serial killer when I was younger, but when you are violently hurt for many years by one man a girl tends to find a way to protect herself. I just took it a step farther. It’s probably because I grew up in the “perfect” home. Super rich mom and dad, tutors and private schools, anything I wanted they would buy for me…. Little did they know one of their friends was grooming and hurting me every chance he had.

So now here I am, perfectly dressed to fit a type a raping murderer can’t help but follow. Blonde wig, blue contacts, and boobs pushed together so much that they are practically falling out of my too small sports bra. After I tracked the murdered girls in the area back to him, I created a Tinder profile with his perfect girl. My profile says I’m 18, looking for someone to help me find myself, and that my name is Jane. Of course, in real life I’m 21, my name is Ruby Ronstein, and I know exactly who I am and how to inflict maximum pain on the male body. But he doesn’t need to know that…yet.

“Hey Red,” I call out to my AI who is my pride and joy. “Yes, Boss?” she says in a British accent because why the fuck not? “Can you make sure the basement temperature is turned down to 55 degrees for me? I am planning on having a special guest tonight.” I smile at my words looking forward to the pain I will inflict on this depraved man. “Of course, Boss.” Red says, “Would you like your usual tools or is there anything specific you would like me to add?” Now that’s a good question. It is my birthday tomorrow, maybe I should do something special. “Yes, Red. Will you add a bunch of birthday candles and a lighter for me,” I say, “I think I’m going to give myself an early birthday present.”

With that, I text John that I’m on my way to meet him for our run. I get into my brand new red Porsche Cayenne, the concrete lowering down so I have easy access to my basement bunker. The Porsche has a black leather interior with red LED lights throughout, all my tech accessories decorating the dash. The trunk has a plastic liner as well, just in case my captives are dirty when I put them in the car. Easy clean-up is a must.

“Red,” I say while I’m driving to the remote pin dropped location in the woods John sent me, “How far out is he?” I put a tracker on his car a month ago so I could always track him and keep any other girls from harm. “John is set to arrive three minutes after you, Boss,” Ruby replies. Good, then we can have our little meet cute and I can get him back to my house for the real fun.

I pulled up to the barely lit parking lot next to a poorly lit running trail about thirty minutes later. It makes me laugh to myself that he thinks I’m some naïve little girl who is about to be taken by surprise. John pulls up next to me a couple minutes later and I change into my shy façade that I know will help me get him where I want him.

Getting out of the car, he looks me up and down slowly as I force myself to breathe quicker like I’m nervous and look at my toes. I glance up and see the hunger in his eyes, but his voice is calm and welcoming when he says, “Well hello sweet, Jane. I am so glad to finally get to meet you in person. You really do look adorable in your running clothes.” I give a shy smile and say, “Really? You think so? I’ve never ran on a trail before so I wasn’t really sure if this was the right thing. I really wanted to look cute for you.” Now that makes him smile. John is 37 years old with dirty blonde hair and a sharp bone structure. He looks like the ”golden boy” everyone pictures and he has the resume to prove it. He is a doctor here in Austin and does a lot of charity work involving teens. John is wearing black shorts with a UT tank top to show off his muscles and black running shoes to top it off. That’s not obvious or anything. Creep.

John reaches out a hand for me and I take it, holding back a shiver knowing what he has done with those hands. I can never unsee those police photos of the girls when they were found. Some as young as 15, sliced and beaten up. But it ends tonight. “So where do we start,” I ask looking innocently into his eyes. He gives me a devilish smile and says, “We will start at the beginning of the trail there. I know that it’s dark, but I promise to keep you safe.” He winks at me and I try not to roll my eyes. Like seriously, dude? You aren’t that smooth okay.

We start jogging along the trail, when he stops suddenly. Here it comes, what is this dick going to do now? We are only a quarter mile in. “Sorry Jane,” he says and gets on one knee, “my shoe string is too loose and I don’t want to trip and fall, making a fool of myself in front of such a beautiful girl.” He ties his shoes, then stands up quickly and pushes me against a tree. He grabs my wrists and places them above my head, sniffing my hair and running his nose up the side of my neck. “You said you want someone to help you find yourself Jane,” he whispers darkly in my ear. “I am that man, and I’m going to have fun with this tight little body of yours.”

“Wha-wha-what do you mean,” I pretend to stutter in fear. “You are gong to be my new play thing,” he chuckles. Naw, you’re mine. I bring my knee up to his groin, catching him off guard. “What the fu-“ John tries to say as I grab his head and bring it down to my knee, busting his nose in the process. He falls to the ground howling in pain. “You stupid bitch!” John screams at me, making me laugh.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” I say as I look down at him, “Not so fun when you are the one being hurt now is it?” He looks at me, spitting blood in my direction and replies, “Who the hell are you?! I’m going to fuck that whore mouth of yours until you die from asphyxiation.”

“Woah, look at Mr. Golden Boy making his threats,” I say as I take the knife from behind my back and throw it into his leg as he starts to stand. I had knives hidden in secret sewn in pockets inside my yoga shorts and sports bra just for this. I even had a syringe in my phone holder strap on my arm, just to be safe. John starts screaming at me, “Damnit!! Why the fuck did you do that?!” I chuckle, crouching down with enough distance that he can’t reach me, but enough to make my point.

“Because in my city, if you pet the snake, you’re going to get bitten,” I say with pure hatred in my voice. “I don’t know what that means,” John replies, a panicked look in his eyes. I walk over to him, grabbing the syringe from my armband and jabbing it into the side of his neck. “Oh you will soon enough,” I say with a loud laugh as his eyes close and his body falls limp next to me.