Serenity in Murder - Count 94

Feeling very relaxed this morning. The air has that soothing sweetness to it again. I still haven't discovered any underlying reasons for going to the good detective's home, but at the moment I don't really care. I'm still reveling in my post kill bliss. I can still taste that girls fear. It radiated from every pore in her supple young body. Her flesh jumped at the slightest caress of my knife. The razor sharp blade sank easily into her skin. I don't think she even felt the first incision until she saw the blade travel from her navel towards her face. Her eyes exploded in terror. In them I could see her frustration as she tried to fight the growing effects of the paralytic to no avail. Her eyes weren't special enough for me to take, but they held my attention as I brought her closer and closer to her delicious death. She wanted it in the end. The massive fear was overtaken by resignation. Her telling eyes spoke of her acceptance of her coming demise. The hazel eyes stared back with a defiance as she bled out. I always have to admire that final defiance in the face of adversity. It seems that is the only time the cattle can rise above their station and become human.

Search and Destroy

The monotony of my job has allowed me ample time to dwell on recent events. I've been asking myself several questions. Why was I at Black's house? Did I intend to kill him? It hasn't been a waking thought of mine. He doesn't pose any immediate threat to me, especially in light of his domestic issues. Maybe there's something I'm missing in the big picture. A physical manifestation of some subconscious fear. I need to clear my thoughts, get a new perspective on things. I think I'm going to head to the Loop tonight. The university is getting ready for the fall semester. There should be a whole crop of fresh cattle ripe for slaughter. Some many mindless drones in need of death. A bloodletting always seems to clear my head and the Loops residents have lived in false security for far too long.

Dream Revelations

Had just about given up on recovering any shred of my lost days until last night. I had a dream about Detective Black that so disturbed me I was compelled to act on it. In the dream the I was standing over the good detective's lifeless body, staring down at the pool of blood radiating from the gaping knife wound in his chest. When I looked up from the corpse I saw Mirror Man standing a few feet away, grinning at me devilishly with a dripping butcher knife in his hand. Mirror Man lunged at me and we wrestled to the ground, each struggling for advantage. I felt a cold searing in my abdomen as his knife plunged in deeply. I awoke on the floor tangled in blankets. I spent a few minutes searching the internet to find Detective Black's address. It's amazing how simple it is to find anything about anyone if you have a computer. I arrived at his Galleria address a little after noon. I was a little taken aback at the extravagance of his home. It's much more than what would be affordable on an honest police officer's salary. Perhaps the good detective isn't quite so good. After stalking around his residence for a while I finally caught sight of him, or what used to be him. He appeared much more haggard than our last encounter, but exactly as I had seen in my dream. his living room was also identical to my dream. He was sitting on a couch staring blankly at a photograph and drinking heavily from a bottle of Macallan. The toll of losing his child and his wife's subsequent trial have weighed very heavily on him. He didn't die as in my dream like I expected to see, but I was definitely here at some point during my missing days. The next question is why was Mirror Man in the dream.

Heading Out

Candace made reservations for a bed and breakfast this weekend. I'm looking forward to it, like any other chance to get away from this place. The cottage we're staying in is about 90 minutes south of the city, seated at the base of the mountains. I've never been to the area so there's a bit of excitement in it for me. She showed some pictures and it looks amazing. A landscape preserved from the destruction of the cattle and their mindless ways. No cell towers, no mass communication, just a communion with nature. While waiting for Candace to leave work I tuned into the news briefly. It seems the good detective's domestic woes have taken a turn for the worse. They have discovered incriminating physical evidence against his wife. She is going to be tried for first degree murder. A mugshot was flashed across the screen. Her natural beauty seemed a stark contrast to the orange jumpsuit and drab background. An unobservant viewer may have been extremely reluctant to think her guilty. I, on the other hand, immediately recognized the cold viciousness in her eyes. Even in a picture that hollowness in the eyes can be seen. A childish glee welled inside me at this revelation. It's possible that his wife has tortured Detective Black more than I ever could.

Unexpected Surprise

My pleasant day continue through course of yesterday. I was able to skip out of the office a little early and beat the traffic. It's always so much more enjoyable to ride the train when not surrounded by masses of cattle. The peaceful droning of the wheels against the steel rails can be quite hypnotic. I found myself lulled into a trance-like state, not really thinking or observing. When I arrived home I sank into a light, but peaceful slumber. I was awakened by Candace leaving a message for me. She was going to be able to make our late reservation. Looking at the clock I realized I still had a little while before I had to leave. Sitting down to sharpen my tools, I turned on the television. Thus far no further developments in the good detectives domestic difficulties. Perhaps I shouldn't be so concerned with his affairs but I do rather enjoy the thought of his suffering. It's unfortunate that I wasn't the cause of it. I was a few minutes late in arriving for dinner. Candace was already seated and perusing the wine list. Her jet black hair was pulled up revealing her beautifully sculpted face. Her bronzed skin exuded a glowing brilliance. My breath was momentarily taken away from me when she smiled brightly at me over her menu. We settled into a very natural rhythm of conversation. We briefly discussed our work and other banal things. We glossed over "that poor detective in the news who lost his daughter". We moved onto the brighter subjects of plans for this weekend and her surprise for me. She told me she couldn't wait until this weekend to show me so we paid the bill and retired to her loft. She excused herself for a moment and left me to my own devices. When she returned she was dressed in a sheer silk robe. Asking if I was ready to unwrap my surprise she guided my hands to the belt around her waist. Gently pulling at the cloth revealed a star made of sparkling sequins on her pelvic area. The look of surprise must have been evident on my face as she laughed softly. She explained that it was called "vajazzle", a type of beauty ritual somewhat similar to painting fingernails. When she asked if I liked it all I could do was nod my head. We both fell into a deep sleep after our vigorous session. When I woke this morning I had sequins stuck to my face and other parts of my body. Surprises may not be so bad after all.

Pleasant Day

Today is shaping up to be a nice day. I'm still riding high from the good detectives misfortunes. That coupled with my encounter the other night have had me on Cloud 9 for the past few days. I actually found myself smiling this morning. I wasn't aware of it until I stepped onto the train. I started to feel the tightness of my lips stretching across my face as I found a seat. Some of the cattle raised their heads from their electronic comas to smile back at me. Normally it unnerves me a little to see them staring and smiling at me for no reason, but today it just seemed par for the course. I settled easily into my work, getting a plethora of business finished before the Corporate Muppet decided to contaminate my office with its presence. Even it's incessant head flapping didn't phase me in the slightest. I grabbed the important parts from the one sided conversation and delved back into work. I sent Candace an email to setup a dinner date for this evening. She replied that she was very busy but is going to make every effort to see me. She tentatively setup a reservation for 9pm. She said she can't wait to see me and she has a surprise for me. While I'm not big on surprises she has piqued my curiosity. It's going to be a good day.

Morning Headlines

After a weekend of solitude and quiet reflection, I woke this morning to discover a very interesting article in the news. It would appear the good detective is having a bit of trouble at home:

"Detective John Black returned home after his shift late last night to discover a disturbance in his own home. Upon entering his residence he found his wife, former print model Christian LeJeune, covered in blood. Rushing into the nursery, he made the grim discovery that their infant daughter had been brutally stabbed to death. Detective Black, 32, has been heading up the police task force investigating the Murphy Center explosion last month. There has been unsubstantiated speculation that the tragic attack was a result of the arrest of Zameer Hatem. Hatem, a U.S. born Muslim with ties to a violent Jihadist group, is the primary suspect in the bombing that claimed 77 lives and injured hundreds more. Anonymous sources have stated Detective Black is to be immediately removed from the task force and placed on leave pending investigation into this grisly crime."

Headlines - Body count 88?

May have found my missing days from last week. A headline in the news described "a grisly murder similar to others in recent months". The cops found the body of a twenty year old woman in her apartment. Her eyes had been cut out and a "T" shaped incision was carved in her torso. If I did that, where the hell are the eyes? And more importantly where is my knife? They found the body near the Loop. Definitely one of my hunting grounds. I'm going to have to go back and do some inconspicuous digging. If it was me I'm sure the cops haven't found anything yet, but they may in time. Maybe a return will jog my memory. Or maybe this is a convoluted trap the good detective has set for me. What if there is no girl and I walk right into his waiting hands? He could be lying in wait for me right now.

Stumble in Somnambulance

I've lost days. I woke up in a makeshift homeless community on the library steps this morning. My clothes were torn and tattered, covered in filth. Apparently it was enough for me to camouflage myself amongst the downtrodden cattle. I have no recollection of how I came to be there or what transpired beforehand. I took stock of the items I had on me. My wallet and phone were there intact. I didn't have any blades on me, which set off alarms. I quickly made my way to the nearest train station. Luckily, there weren't too many cattle milling around at that time of the morning, which is not to say that I wasn't met with gawking and stares during my ride. I ignored the brainless masses as I tried to piece together the previous few days. The last thing I remember was going home after work on Friday. I checked my mail and my messages. Candace had called looking to meet for dinner. I remember not wanting to call her back. I wasn't in the mood to spend the evening amongst the cattle. The next thing I remember is waking on the library steps surrounded by vagrants, pigeons and piss. When I arrived home I frantically searched my tools for anything amiss. One of my scalpels is missing. That does not bode well for me. If that knife was used and not disposed of properly I'm quite sure the good detective will find it.