Diary of a Murderer: Entry 2

I picked her up off the street. I hadn’t been planning this murder the previous, it was spur of the moment. I like to explore the seedier parts of society on my day off. It makes me feel better when I see the filth wallow in their own feces. It was at this point I was lost in thought and turned down a road I wasn’t familiar with, and that’s when I saw her. She was beautiful, of course. She was standing on the curb with black high heels, a short skirt, and a crop top. I pulled up to her and rolled down my passenger window. She came up to the window and asked what I wanted. I knew at that moment exactly what I wanted. I know it would be a sloppy one at this point, I was unprepared and I could feel the lust in my body. My entire being wanted to feel her blood, running through my hands. I looked at her and asked her to get into the car and I would explain when we got to my house. She said she wouldn’t get in the car unless she knew what I wanted so I told her I wanted a quick one. She said it would cost about $100 for it, and I said for her to get in anyways. She got in and I drove silently the whole time. She tried making conversation several times, but I’ve never been one for small talk. I don’t like to get to know my victims. The closer you are to the person the more mistakes you made, and I was already feeling impatient. I took her to a secluded area and she got out. She tried to disrobe me, but I told her I had to do something first. I went to the back of my car and pulled out a blanket and a picnic basket. I told her I wanted to have dinner with her first. I had some sandwiches in the back for a camping trip I had been planning on going on the next day. I held her hand as we ate. She said it would cost extra, but it wasn’t anything I was worried about. I asked her questions about her work. I wondered how many men she picked up a night. She said 5-10 men on a good night. The very thought disgusted me. I stared at her between tight eyes. She would twirl her brown hair in her fingers and send stray hairs onto the blanket. As the meal went on she leaned back on both of her hands and sighed. I knew then that she was beginning to get comfortable with me. I started to be as sweet as I could to get her trust I would have the least amount of struggle to get what I wanted, I didn’t want much resistance. We stayed picnicking for several more minutes before she started getting antsy, she didn’t say it but she started feeling on my leg. She was probably wanting to get back to the street to continue her work for the night. I stopped her hand and asked her if I could tie her hands. She asked why and I said that it got me off. She looked like she was uncomfortable with it, but she said yes anyways. At this point I absolutely knew I had gained her trust. I took a rope from my car and tied her wrists. Right after this I laid her down on the blanket. She stared up at me expectantly and I moved next to her and stabbed her in the stomach. 

She screamed. 

She began crying, sobbing is perhaps the more appropriate word. 

She asked me why. She asked me a lot of things. Perhaps I made her too comfortable, but I couldn’t focus on that. As soon as the blood came from her wound I gasped. I couldn’t control myself. It was bright red and…and beautiful. I gently touched the wound and let the blood run through my fingers. I would push down on the wound so more blood would come out. I liked to watch it filter through my fingers. I faintly heard her whimpers at this point. She kept asking me if I was going to kill her. I thought it was apparent at this point, but again, I think I made her too comfortable. I gently let my bloodied hand rest against her cheek. She flinched and I grazed my thumb up and down her cheekbone. It made her more beautiful; the blood. 

Soon enough I wanted more. I wanted all of her. I wanted her entire being, her soul. 

I took my knife and cut down her stomach. I let all of her blood pour over me. I bathed her face in it. I kissed her forehead and licked the blood from my lips. I smiled softly and let my hands be filled with her. 

I love the blood. I love her.