Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Come play my game.

Come play my game.

Come play my game. I’m the villain. Olly olly ox and free. I’m here to take your life. I want your soul. You’re the victim. This will only hurt for a minute.

The newspaper calls me the playground killer. I think it leaves much to be desired. Simply put, the writers these days are so unoriginal and publish such drivel. My notoriety comes from the fact that I like to play a game of cat and mouse with my prey. It didn’t help when I strung that girl up, using her intestines, on the monkey bars in Sandoval Park or left that young man’s pieces individually buried in the kiddy sandbox near the jungle gym at the Green Square play yard last week. One could say I’d gotten a little reckless in my habits, seeing how the press picked up the story.
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Racing through the dark wet grass. It’s night in Riverside park. Tony didn’t see him coming. I managed to get away while he was being dismembered. The sharp metallic edge caught him square in the back of the neck and pulled clean. Blood trailed down his forehead as his head lay before me in the sand. I didn’t have time to breathe, let alone let out a scream. I just ran. There’s a madman on the loose and I’m certain that I’ll be his next victim if I don’t find somewhere to hide quickly.
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My favorite part of the game is where they run. Stupid teenagers. Always heading wildly out into the night. Never understanding that they’ve entered my domain and I’m in control here. I spend most of my time in the darkness of night and I know the lay of the land. Run rabbit run. You’ll never see daylight again.
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Poor Tony. We were sitting on the swings, and being silly. Out of the darkness swings the sharp metallic blade and takes off his head. Before I can even grab my senses to scream. Arms, legs, and pieces are scattering before my eyes. This hooded figured has a unholy weapon that rips and removes flesh. I panic and run. There is no going back.

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I like to let them believe they have escaped. It’s more of challenge this way. I’m feeling a little restless tonight. I’m beginning to think that this little girl is going to be a disappointment. Maybe I’ll make her watch while I cut off her legs, followed by her arms, and keep her alive in a box for a little longer. I can enjoy watching her squirm for a few hours without giving in this time. That should give me time to dispose of her friend over by the swings.

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Oh my god! I can hear him coming. Breathe. Deep or you’ll just hyperventilate and he’ll hear you. I’m in the dark underbrush next to an old oak tree by the river. He is just a few minutes behind me. The sound of his blade tearing through the brush is unmistakable. I close my eyes. It’s dark now. My heart is pounding and my knees are shaking. Closer. I hold my breath and wait. Like a murderous game of hide and seek, where I’m certain to lose if I don’t keep calm.

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Stupid girl. She’s hiding under a bush next to that old oak out along the shelf of the river. I’m going to circle back a few and come from the other side. This one I’m going to enjoy. It’s been far too long since I’ve allowed myself the pleasure of savoring a kill. Letting the life slip from the body. Watching the blood drain from the wound. Smelling the sweet stink of flesh as it’s being torn to pieces. Feeling the bones snap as your hands break them in two. Just gives me the chills! Smashing in the skull with the base of your heel. Tearing the flesh from the head as you scalp them. The pure intoxication of the kill sets me off. Exhilarating!

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He’s gone. It’s raining now. But I’m too afraid to move. Child hiding under the bed waiting for someone to find them. Head full of emotions. Heart racing wildy. Pure adrenaline keeping me from fainting. I can’t open my eyes to look. I’m sobbing and choking back my wails. Small whimpers escape. Muffled by the drops of the night rain. The birds along the river stir and fly away. I can’t hear anything else but the rain. I just want to go home! THUMP! My arm! The ground. It’s not attached… oh my… do-do-do… down on the ground. But how? I didn’t hear him.

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Thump! I take of her left arm without a move or whimper out of her. She’s stunned. Looks over at me with those big doe eyes and just sits there. I proceed to remove the left leg while she just sits there. This is proving to be too easy. I want her to scream, beg for her life, otherwise it’s just another night. Damn! Another Leg. Nothing! Last limb. I pick up her arm and rub the blood in her face. Make her taste the flesh. Screaming ensues. Perfect. Now my night’s off to a great start. Let’s continue darling, shall we?

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Awake, in a sense. I’m moving. My hair. He’s pulling my hair? No that’s wrong. He’s dragging me by my hair. Open your eyes. I can’t. It hurts too much. I’m afraid. I can’t feel my legs. It’s still raining. I can feel the water on my face. My hands, I can’t feel them. Actually I can’t feel anything below my ribs. Something’s wrong. There’s sobbing. It’s me. I’m whimpering and crying. I have the taste of blood in my mouth and smell of it in my nose. Open your eyes. Oh! What has he done to me! Where is the rest of me?

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Fuck! The damn screaming. Anything to shut the little bitch up. This one turned out to be a handful. Wouldn’t shut up after she saw what I’d done to her. I ended up cutting her throat out to shut her up. I wasn’t done yet and she was ruining my fun. Killjoy! See kids these days, they just don’t know how to have any fun. Well anyhow I just took the half torso, with what was left of her swinging organs and sat it on the top of the miniature flagpole at the park entrance. Then for some laughs I took the boyfriend’s head and made a sandcastle around that. See what the newspaper thinks of that. Completely unfulfilling. Why do I bother sometimes? Maybe I’ll just watch some TV tomorrow night instead.

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