People were getting scared. Very, very scared. There were less people outside at night, and less people meant less potential victims. I felt powerful, though. Three teenagers had an entire town scared to go outside. On the other hand, police were starting to suspect us. It was a bad idea to get rid of Gerard’s art project partner. They were collecting evidence on everybody. Gerard, Mikey, Ray, Frank, me, everyone was a suspect. Gerard and Frank were suspects of mine, as well. They had been spending an awful lot of time together. They were starting to think of their own, unique methods of torture and murder. Any ideas of mine were rejected, cast away. They were telling me to stay home for a few murders. At first, I thought it was nothing, just them being them. But now, now they were being suspicious and rude. I will get to the bottom of this. I can easily follow them, but did I want to know? Not at all. I just had to make my presence known. I knew they were doing something, but if I have the choice to know what it is, or stop it, I’d rather stop it. We were starting to plan the killings out more carefully now, as a result of the police investigations and the lack of people to target. Specific people were made victims, now. We were targeting a nice woman who lived down the block from me. Her name was Lara. She was attending an art school in New York City, and was planning to move there in a month. I’d hate to end her life on such short notice, but, I need to. I have a phycological need for blood. Maybe we would try a different tactic this time... I would say we try some “Henry XVIII” on her. That would be nice.

“Hey.” Gerard said to Lara. He had asked her to go out for coffee to discuss art. Frank and I were coming with them.

“Hang on a second, I need to stop at my house and get something.” Frank said. “You guys can come with me. It’s on the way to the Cafe.” He smiled. I love his smile. We arrived at the house. It was 7:30 pm. Everything was going according to plan. “It’s in the kitchen. I’ll go grab it.” Frank ran through the door. Lara started looking around. She took a step forward, into the uncleaned pool of Rebecca’s blood. She took a sharp breath.

“Gerard... what happened in here?” She asked, her voice shaking.

“Oh, it was nothing. A simple accident. That’s what you’ll be... just another little ‘accident’.” He answered, coming up behind her and stroking her cheek with his index finger. “If you know what’s good for you, don’t scream. You might wake the neighbors, dear.” He laughed. I walked in front of her. Sweat was streaming down her forehead. She looked close to tears.

“Don’t cry... I don’t want you to be sad. It’s all going to be over soon.” I said in a comforting voice. She was going to be fun. Frank came back into the hallway area we were standing in, the object he needed behind his back. I reached into the death bag, pulling out some duct tape and placing 2 pieces in an ‘X’ across her mouth. She was starting to struggle.

“The more you struggle, the more pain you’re going to cause yourself and the longer this is going to take.” I said, getting impatient. She only struggled more at this remark. I got my carving knife out of the bag and drew a small smiley face on her leg. Her muffled scream was quite loud, but not loud enough that anyone outside the house could hear her. She got very still after that and stopped her incessant screaming. It was replaced by the sound of sobbing cries of pain and fear. It was music to my ears. “... and we all dance alone to the tune of your death...” My mind whispered.

“Don’t worry, honey. Don’t cry. It’ll all be over soon.” Frank said, raising the gleaming silver butcher’s knife above his head. He lowered it slowly down to Lara’s neck, slicing open the skin a bit. Small red droplets poured out of the cut, shimmering like jewels in the dim light of the sunset. He raised the knife one more time.

“Goodnight, Lara!” He said, before lowering the knife with all his might onto her neck. She screamed once more. There was a dull crunch from the breaking vertebrae, and she was silent. Frank kept sawing away at what was left of her bloody neck, until her head and body were no longer connected. I picked up the decapitated head by the hair, giving her the final smile before tossing it over my shoulder nonchalantly.

“I believe we were supposed to get coffee?” I said smiling.

Notes

For Lara. Enjoy your death, my dear.