Frequent Flyer

"Headed home sir?" the TSA agent asked in a generic manner that implied she really didn't give a shit. "Unfortunately no...business trip," I returned the same uninterested tone. "Have a nice flight sir."

I have mastered in the art of travel and follow the protocol to a tee: shoes off, laptop in the bin, same routine every trip. I often indulge in the old art of people-watching, as the airport is a virtual melting pot of every sort or character you can imagine. I need to entertain myself as my job keeps me on the road at least 48 weeks a year.

I am a member of every airlines mileage club, rental car club, and hotel honor point club you can imagine. I have earned enough free everything to go where ever I want, whenever I want. I have never missed a flight as time management and planning seem to be an attribute that I have in excess.

Almost to the compulsive level...there could be worse compulsions to have.

I make my way to the gate with minutes to spare before boarding, so I look around the boarding area to see who might be my next door neighbor on the flight.

It is a game I like to play to kill time.

Is it the loud asshole on his crack-berry talking about his work bullshit that no one wants to hear?

Is it the attractive young admin-assistant slash librarian looking woman, who looks like she has a tattoo hidden under her conservative facade.

It never is. I am never that lucky.

Maybe it's the Asian businessman or the old man with his pants pulled up too high, those two seem more likely to be the one. It never fails. It's always the old and overweight, and it's usually the combo pack. I board with the business select as I do not fly first class. It does not provide the entertainment or interesting cast of characters the main cabin does.

I like being where the action is.

The cattle drive begins as they announce boarding as we are all herded onto the plane. I take my seat in the emergency exit on the aisle, as usual. If something goes wrong and we need to exit, I am getting off first.

An older gentlemen takes the window seat in my row (told you it's never the cute ones). I shove my bag under the seat and sit and wait until we are in the air so I can get some work done on the laptop. I really hate the waiting period just before take off and landing, where I am unable to use an electronic device...I just sit and stare at the back of the seat in front of me.

Lucky for me there is a magazine left in the seat back pocket that I can read. It's not sky mall or the bullshit airline magazine but an entertainment weekly, a current one at that. Looks like I can kill some time flipping through this.

Seeing the images of all the pretty Hollywood starlets and their handsome leading men seems to just irritate me. They all look so smug with their 'look at me, I am pretty and famous with tons of money just because I can play pretend better than the average person.'

I can play pretend as well.

Far better than any of these amateurs. Except my pay does not come in the form of financial compensation. My pay comes from the self satisfaction of dominating somebody physically.

I am playing my best character right now: Mr. Jacob Lester, traveling salesmen. Been playing this role my entire life. Hard working, blue collar guy who never got married because he was too shy. Quite the act I have put on. If they only knew the real me. We are all violent by design. Some of us just more than others and I am at the top of the food chain.

I have murdered at least 50 or more people. Men, women, and children. You might say I am an equal opportunity serial killer. My job makes it easy, I fly all across the country and go to different cities on nearly every trip.

I do not frequent the same locations that often and if I do, the trips are usually months apart. This affords me the ability to jump around from place to place doing my dirty deeds. I need to do this--it is not a choice--it is the only thing that allows me to function in society, or at least give the impression of functioning.

Every one of my victims deserved what they got. You see, I am working off of a higher power than any of these other skin sacks. I am doing the work I was born to do. It just came to me one day through a vision, and after that day I knew what must be done. I don't just kill; I purify through punishment and torture. I thought sex was good until I began my little mission 10 years ago. I can't even think clearly sometimes the desire is so deafening.

It is time again and I know what I must do. I have selected the next initiate that I will purify. Looks like I am headed to Corona, CA. It's a slight detour off of my work schedule but I think I can make some time for a little extracurricular activity.

I can't explain how I know who is next. The signs are never the same. Sometimes it's a look, or I hear a name over a loud speaker. Could be anything but once the sign is received there is no stopping me.

The last time I indulged in my true self was three months ago.

I was in Portsmouth, NH at a Hilton Garden Inn, having a drink at the bar when the bartender told me I should head over to Gilley's down the street, and get both of us a cheeseburger. He's buying, and he would give me a drink on the house if I made the one block away trip. He could not leave as he was the only bartender on that evening.

This was it, the sign. I needed to go to Gilley's because that is where my next victim would be found.

So I went.

It was cold outside, most likely in the low twenties, and already I was beginning to second guess this little mission of mine. But I know this needs to happen because I NEED this. A short little walk in bitter cold is a small price to pay. Sure enough, like the man said there it was, Gilley's.

What a grimy little spot. This is absolutely where I am supposed to go. It is a small trailer-like burger stand filled with drunkards from tonight's shenanigans.

The place had six customers inside and it appeared like the capacity must be seven, as I attempted to wedge myself to the back of the line. It appeared that the four stooges ordering in the front were classic Boston drinking buddies, while the two directly in front of me appeared to be a young couple out for a night on the town. The lovely little town of Portsmouth, making sure everyone has a good time.

Now it's my turn.

I make small talk with the couple, pretending to be interested in their night out with friends as they detail their evenings events that apparently landed them here...with me.

The both of them were intoxicated for sure, as they showed no inhibitions or concerns rattling on with a stranger.

Beware of stranger-danger, I thought as I watched lips moving but not really registering what was being said. What I did register was they were staying within walking distance as one of them mentioned liking not being the designated driver for once. I continued to be charming while they scarfed down their food in a beer induced gorge fest. My order came up so as I approached the counter. I was able to brush up against the boyfriend and remove his wallet. Even if he had not been drinking he would not have noticed as my slight of hand skills were high level. This is a skill that has proved useful on several occasions. I grabbed my to go bag, said my farewells, and left Gilley's.

The next five minutes moved very quickly.

I made it back to my hotel to deliver the cheeseburger I promised the bartender, making a lame excuse to avoid staying and chatting, no time for that now.

I circled back to Gilley's as the couple was throwing out their trash.

Perfect.

I quickly looked through the wallet to look for any clues.

Hampton Inn key card....BINGO.

That's the beauty of this small town; only so many hotels and this one was close.

I sprinted the block over hoping to beat the couple to the hotel. I noticed a man smoking by the side entrance so I approached him and bummed a smoke. He obliged offering me a light as we both enjoyed a few drags. I made sure to extinguish my butt as he extinguished his, and using my newly found key card I entered the hotel.

I made my way down the hall and into the lobby. The front desk was unattended so I maneuvered towards a set of couches out of view and waited.

It was not long before my couple staggered into the lobby. I made sure I could see them but I could not be seen without effort. I saw the boyfriend reach for his wallet only to discover it's absence. They approached the counter and rang the bell. A lady came from the back wiping food from the corner of her mouth, asking how she could help the couple. The couple explained that they had lost their room key along with the mans wallet. The lady asked their names and looked them up, telling them they are in room 344 as she produced a new room key.

Now I know what room they are in.

As soon as the couple disappeared into the elevator I moved fast.

First I quickly skirted out the side door I entered in the first place and sprinted along the side of the building, making my way to the main entrance. I ran inside appearing to be frantic as if looking for someone as I approached the lady at the counter. "My friend (panting) left his wallet," I said barely having hold of my breath after my epic faux sprint. "He was with his wife, any chance they came through here?" As I got a handle on my breathing.

"Why as a matter of a fact they just walked in, you missed them by mere moments," said the women kindly.

"Great! Would you mind calling my buddy down?" I asked with a shit eating grin.

"Absolutely sir, one moment."

As she motioned for the phone I set the wallet on the counter and told her I needed to move my car so I would be right back. The lady waved me on as she dialed the phone.

This time I ran double time to the side entrance pulling out the key card I swiped from the mans wallet. Once inside I ran up the stairs to the third floor. I carefully opened the door as I was not entirely sure where exactly I would be coming out on the floor. I looked and could see I was near room 348, so much closer than expected. At that moment, a door opened so I backed into the stairwell. I counted to three and reopened the door being careful not to make a sound. And there he was; my friend who lost his wallet, going down to the lobby to retrieve his missing item. As soon as I heard the elevator doors close I made my way to room 344.

Here...we...go.

I slid the key card in as the green light illuminated and pushed the door open carefully.

I did not immediately see the girl but then heard her from the bathroom. "Well that was quick, be right out honey." she said calmly. I pushed the bathroom door open with controlled force. The woman was on the toilet and before she could let out a scream, I was grabbing the back of her head and forcing it down into the tile with the downward force of a jackhammer. Her skull cracked open on the bathroom floor as a spurt of blood stained the shower curtain. Several of her teeth broke out of her mouth rolling on the tile like distorted marbles. I raised her head up and slammed it down over and over, until I was sure there was no life left. I was so caught up in the moment that I did not realize that the entire bathroom floor was now blood red and the women's head looked like a deflated basketball.

I stood up and washed my hands in the sink and splashed some water on my face to remove some of the splatter. I heard the door open so I readied myself. Surprise is on my side.

As soon as the door shut I burst out of the bathroom and slammed my chums head into the wall knocking him off his feet, as he fell towards the bathroom door. His head landed in between the tile of the bathroom and the carpet of the entry way, wedging his shoulders and head between the bathroom door. Perfect, I thought to myself. I repeatedly slammed the door on his head at least 15 times, maybe more but who knows. I watched as the blood from his head flowed towards the blood from his wife's head. They joined into one super puddle, like two rivers joining to form a lake. It was beautiful to watch; even in death they are together.

I dragged the mans body next to the woman's and propped them both against the wall, so the looked like they were simply sitting together instead of beaten to death. I placed the mans arm around the neck and shoulder of the woman, so he appeared to be holding her.

It was nice.

I got undressed and took a shower to clean myself up. After the shower I went through my buddies bag and found a shirt and pants that should fit good enough for my walk back to my hotel. I meticulously collected my belongings, careful not to touch anything, and shoved them into a plastic laundry bag. I said my goodbye to the lovely couple in the bathroom and walked back to my room.

I felt alive.

Just then the plane touched down in sunny Southern California. It was looking like it was going to be a beautiful day, and not just because of the weather. I could feel the excitement growing inside of me. I would compare the rising feeling to how you feel when you have to go to the bathroom and you get closer to home. The feeling gets more and more intense as you get closer to your destination.

I made my way to the rental car facility, picked up my rental, and was on my way to my hotel.

Just one quick stop first.

I entered the address into my GPS and was off to meet my destiny. It did not take long as it was only 25 miles from the airport, which I felt was very convenient. It was still daytime which was thrilling for some reason. I rarely showed my true self in daylight, I preferred the darkness of night. But just knowing that I would most likely be arriving around dinner time seemed to excite me. I really NEED this.

I pulled up to the house and double checked the address.

Yup, this is it. Here...we...go.

I knocked firmly on the door.

A women answered the door, "Hello, can I help you?"

"I hope so," I said with a smile.

"Is James Carson here?" I asked.

"Yes he is...can I tell him who is here?" Asked the lady in a not worried at all tone.

"Tell him it's a surprise," I said with more of a smirk than a smile.

"James there is somebody at the door for you!" The lady shouted.

Just a few moments later a man came to the door rubbing his eyes as if he just woke from a nap.

"Hello...do I know you?" He asked lazily.

"Not exactly. But, I found your magazine."