Then as if from nowhere, she was there passing from dark to light, light to dark in her high heeled shoes, pink jacket and cream coloured blouse with her skinny legs in the pouring rain, number 23. Each one exactly the same, young, shiny and ginger.
She had a red leather bag with her, and as she was walking along she tripped on an uneven paving slab in Hitchcroft Park which had a bad reputation. When she tripped a whole host of make up fell out of her bag onto the hard, wet floor beneath. She had so much of the make up on you could hardly tell what her natural skin colour was; the yellow lights emigrating from above didn’t help distinguish what colour her skin was, I didn’t care because I knew one thing she was young, shiny and ginger. All this in a red leather bag. A bag which I did not want, I wanted her, not for her body just her. She had done nothing wrong, just like the last girl, nothing personal either, just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
She was walking towards the toilets, she wouldn’t go in, and I knew that. Then when the time was right I leapt out of the bushes like a graceful leopard going after his prey, 25, 20, 15, 10, 5 yards, I grabbed her beautiful ginger hair, kicked open the door and threw her into the toilets which stank of urine and faeces.
I hit her head against the wall forcing her to shut up, she cowered in the corner. I went to the disused cistern and took the cold hard axe, still spattered with blood from my last victim and hit her in the head. I hit her hard and enjoyed it, then the body, once twice three times. I kept going until I could hit no more.
I sat and felt pleased with what I had done, she was quiet now no more screaming, there was an eerie silence except for the steady dripping of the tap which mingled with her crimson blood on the tiled floor. Minutes later I took the axe once more, and chopped up her bloody body into 56 pieces, just like I had done with every other woman.
With her body parts laying there in a pile I walked to the corner and removed the drain cover. As I removed the drain cover I closed my mind to the great stench which arose, got on with the job and dragged each portion one by one to their final resting place. As I chucked them in and added them to my collection I saw the bodies of past women all jumbled up and felt satisfied. I then washed my hands of her blood under a single tap that stuck out above the non existent sink, which had been ripped off of the wall by a past victim in sheer terror; this only distorted the blood on the floor and caused it spread.
I don’t know why I do it; it was an accident the first time, an accident that felt so good. The same way each time, 56 pieces, the toilets, everything. Twenty three kills in 49 days and enjoying each one. Each one better than the last, I cannot stop. And with tonight’s task over I returned the axe to cistern and headed for the door stepping through puddles where the water ran clear, and the blood ran red.
Bang, bang, bang, three shots to my head, I was dead in my own pool of blood, where this time the water ran clear and, my, blood ran red. And now here I sit in the fiery depths of hell shifting hot coals until the end of time.
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