Born Monster

Blood splashed all over the walls as I brought the ax down on poor Amber Lee’s head, punctuating the hours of torture that she had endured. This was not a simple murder for money or reputation. This was personal, full of jealousy and raging hate. This was me showing Miss Amber Lee that despite everything she had in life-she was not better than me. Even with my shabby beater with the paint peeling off it and my one-bedroom apartment with stains devouring the carpets, I ran this show.

None of her riches mattered anymore. She couldn’t buy any more coats made of real pig leather. She could no longer go out for steak and potatoes with her drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend. The end had even come to her fancy little wine tasting parties in her five-bedroom mini-mansion. Her pristine life was over. All that was left was brain matter on the floor and blood on the walls that I would have to clean up before the stains set in. While I am not exactly a clean freak, which was obvious after one look at my shitty apartment, I did like to keep my workspace neat. This allowed for my next victim to wonder about the events that laid ahead.

Anytime I entered my abandoned warehouse hangout on the outskirts of Amarillo, Texas with a hot, young, rich female, I wanted her to wonder “what’s going to happen next?” If I already have blood and brains on the floor when she came into the building, murder was going to be on her mind from the start. I have learned from growing up and watching my father work that the worst torture is not always physical; it can also be mental. The lack of control in a time of danger was easily an example of a delightful torture worse than any physical pain. The pain was only an answer. It was the answer to what I am going to do, what is coming next, and what more I could do to you. Pain, pain, pain. All of it leading to the ultimate answer, death. The end.