Burden Removal - Body Count 91

What a glorious morning! There's a certain sweetness in the air. The sun is shining beautifully, even giving this wretched city a shimmering glow. I don't ever remember this place have such a radiance to it. Perhaps it my mood lending itself to my eyes. Everything went without a hitch last night. The storage locker was everything I hoped it would be - spacious and secluded. The rental truck left a little to be desired, but it served its purpose. After a quick trip to the hardware store to pick up my supplies I tracked down the Muppet. It wasn't too hard. The gossip amongst the cattle in the office held pretty true. After the Muppet divorced its wife it became a relative recluse in it's house, drinking itself slowly to death. Unfortunately, that timetable was far too slow for me. Waiting for nightfall I easily crept into its home through the rear entrance, taking note of the video cameras as I moved about. The Muppet had a corner lot far from prying eyes so infiltration was comically simple. Readying my taser, I stilled myself and searched the house. I could hear it babbling faintly through the a bedroom door. I swung the door open the see the Muppet watching a baseball game. It looked at me and a quizzical expression crossed its stupid face. Before it could say anything I zapped it, knocking it unconscious. I quickly hefted its body over my shoulder and made a hasty exit towards the truck. I took a quick survey for any witnesses and then went back in to start a small fire in the kitchen. I broke a few bottles of liquor near the flames to help accelerate the burn. I discretely, but quickly got in the truck and headed back to the storage facility. Once there the fun began. It was still knocked out from the shock so I was able to get things setup easily. I duct taped its mouth closed so I didn't have to hear its horrid voice while it was being tortured. Then I nailed its left hand to the small workbench I bought. It jerked awake when I drove the second nail through its hand. The Muppet swung clumsily at me with its free right hand but I easily dodged and struck it squarely in the shoulder with the hammer. While it tried to recover from the crippling blow I grabbed its free hand a drove a nail into it. It writhed in agony, bucking wildly trying to free itself. I brought the hammer down forcefully on its left hand, crushing two fingers. It wailed for it was worth but the duct tape held. I smacked in the throat with the hammer to insight a gag reflex. The Muppet went to its knees, trying desperately to breath. While in a prone position, I began to rain down blows. Each impact tore into the flesh, soaking the Muppet's clothing in blood. I swung with such ferocity that a sickening, crunching sound accompanied each blow. Quickly the only thing keeping the Muppet off the ground were its restrained hands. I flipped the workbench over and kicked the Muppet on its back. It's eyes were bloodshot and dying. Any thought or emotion had been beaten out of them. I delivered the coup de grace to its face. Its head flattened and exploded into a bloody pool of chunks. Satisfied with my handiwork I poured kerosene over the Muppet's body and the desk clerk I had taken care of earlier. I changed my clothes, dropped a match and headed for the train station.

Planning Ahead

Walked into a cluster fuck this morning at 5:00. The Corporate Muppet screwed up beyond belief. It's unfathomable that it could be put in charge of anything more sophisticated than an ant farm. It took me two hours to sort out the cause of the problem and another four to fix it. I didn't get to my own workload until after noon. When I finally broke for lunch I was so disgusted with being at the office that I had to leave. Sitting at lunch, staring vacantly out the window of the diner, I become transfixed on murdering the Muppet. Normally the transgressions of cattle are of little consequence to me, but it if I'm going to remain here for the time being the Muppet must go. I wracked my brain for a fitting end to its miserable existence. So many choices, but nothing that seemed fitting. Finally, an epiphany struck near the end of my meal. When I got back to the office I started looking for a storage facility in between answering emails. I found a place that seems perfect - it's not too close to home, but it's easily accessible by train. It's an off brand facility that shouldn't ask too many questions and it's open 24 hours. I reserved a shed and rented a truck for this evening. I'm going to need a few things from the hardware store.

The Return

Got back a little while ago. A massive storm front moved into the city shortly before we arrived, bathing the city in stagnant air and sweltering humidity. Already I feel a wave of nausea and claustrophobia settling upon me. It started to hit me as Candace and I said our goodbyes. We had such an invigorating and stimulating weekend I was loathe to see it end. Foolishly, I decided to check my messages when I got home. The Corporate Muppet left several frantic messages for me. I stopped listening by the third one. The whole situation boils down to the Muppet fucked up and needs me to clean up after it. A day of reckoning for that insignificant speck is coming very soon. A bloody, violent end to it wretched, pathetic life. Maybe after I cleanse this city of its infestation Candace and I can return to the mountains, to reconnect with nature. Maybe this place will fade from our minds like the remnants of a distorted dream. For now I must be vigilant and bide my time. Whether I have to massacre the cattle one at a time or slaughter the whole herd in one fell swoop, their time is coming.

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.

Night on the Town - Body Count 89

After learning of Detective Black's domestic misfortunes I found myself filled with a certain sense of elation. Secure in my confidence that I will no longer be under the scrutiny of law enforcement, I decided to have an evening out yesterday to celebrate. I thought of calling Candace for supper and maybe an evening together but decided against it. While I was consumed with a certain yearning it was not the kind of lust she can satisfy, for the moment anyway. I was in the mood for Mexican. That little cantina by the abandoned storefront sounded ideal. Arriving just past eight, the dinner crowd was starting to die off but there were still a fair amount of cattle stuffing their faces. The bar area had a good size group, chugging margaritas and beer while screaming at the soccer match on the television. I sat at a small table near the entrance facing the bar. My server brought me a bowl of tortilla chips and introduced herself as Lupe. In my most relaxed "human mask" I struck up a brief conversation with her. She was a young girl, probably 19 or 20. She spoke in a light, cheerful tone. Her lack of an accent made me think she was born here or at least migrated at an early age. She filled out her outfit very well with a toned, supple body. She was just what I was looking for. Unfortunately, being that it's a small family owned restaurant the peering eyes of her overprotective kin zeroed in on me. The bartender, a brother I surmised, stared daggers at me in between filling glasses and shouting at the television. I caught a few disapproving glares from the portly manager, probably her father. Quickly pushing Lupe from my mind I enjoyed my dinner and feigned half interest in the soccer match. As the game drew to a close most of the patrons began to disperse. I followed them out the door taking note of the particularly intoxicated ones. A group started to make their way towards the train, staggering and stumbling along the way. Much like a lion, I picked off the slowest of the herd. She was a mature woman of maybe 45. She still had a youthful look about her but she drank like she had been beaten down by life once too often. As she struggled along the uneven sidewalk it was obvious that her motor skills were severely compromised. From the shadows I watched her fall farther and farther from the rest of the pack. After a few blocks she was all but deserted. Emerging from the shadows I quickly grabbed her and dragged her into on of the vacant buildings that surrounded us. Working in the pale moonlight it was hard to maintain my usual finesse. Things quickly spiraled out of hand as she vainly struggled in her drunken stupor. Growing tired of the game, I slit her throat. Not deep enough to kill, but deep enough to scare her into abandoning her feeble attempts at defending herself. While she frantically covered her throat in a futile effort to stop the blood flow I plunged my blade forcefully into her abdomen, reveling in the sickening gurgle that had become her breath. I stabbed her a few more times until she was nothing more than a spasming piece of meat, writhing on the floor in agony. I noted her eyes were full of pain and the obvious hatred directed at me, but there was something else. She didn't exhibit any fear. There was almost a look of what I can only describe as joy. I contemplated the quagmire of her emotions while I cleaned up and headed towards the train. These cattle do still manage to surprise me from time to time.

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."

Violent Reaction

Put my fist through a wall in my living room this afternoon. It has just been one shit filled, fucked up day from start to finish. I was late to the office this morning. Some asshole decided to have a heart attack and die on my train. While I appreciate the cattle offing themselves they need to do it in a timely and efficient manner. When I finally arrived the Corporate Muppet was screaming about some nonsense. At one point I think it unhinged it's jaw to get the full head flapping effect. It reminded me of the old Reach flip top head commercials. As soon as I made it into the solace of my office the phone rang. It didn't stop ringing until I packed up and left for the day. It astounds me that some of these cattle can walk upright without bloody knuckles. On my way to the train station I was greeted by another torrential downpour. I was soaked to the bone by the time I reached the platform, which was packed with cattle. One of the other trains had mechanical problems resulting in the overflow in front of me. Patiently I waited my turn to board while the beasts around me fought and pushed their way forward. Finally seated in a car I was overcome by the pungent aroma. The noxious odor of rain and sweat permeated the air, sickening me. When at long last we arrived at my stop I sprang from my seat to take gasping breaths as the doors opened. The walk home was a slow, wet trek. Stepping in the door, I saw that I had missed a call from Candace. I tried to call her back but I couldn't get through. After a few failures the phone flew across the room where it promptly exploded upon impact. That was the final straw. After screaming a loud expletive there was a large, fist shaped hole in one of my walls. Surprisingly, the violent action was very cathartic. I felt a certain calmness wash over me.

Lost and Found

Ventured into the Loop late last night. The train station was thankfully near deserted. When the car door opened I was a little taken aback to see Mirror Man sitting directly in front of me. I stepped in and headed to the back of the otherwise empty car. I hadn't forgotten his slight, but it wasn't the time to deal with him. Mirror Man glared at me. I could see his lips tightening and a certain anger building in his eyes. As the train pulled away from the station he walked towards me and sat down beside me. He let out a long, low sigh and began to address me in a hoarse voice.

"You've been acting a fool lately. You've been careless, self indulgent and thoughtless."

Hatred welled inside me. The fingernails inside my balled fists dug deeply into the flesh of my palms.

"Save you anger. It serves no good for you. I'm offering you a chance to make amends. I know where your knife is and I'll show you"

I asked him why he would help me. He replied that he had a vested interest in my well being. Stunned, I remained silent for the duration of our ride, pondering the ramifications of his words. When the train stopped in the loop he quickly led me through the nearly vacant streets. He moved so swiftly that I was having problems following him in the shadows as we distanced ourselves from the well lit main streets. We eventually came to a blind alley behind a row of deserted buildings. The only light was from a mostly dead streetlamp. Mirror Man directed me towards some clutter at the end of the alley. After a moment or two of digging through the refuse I came up with my knife. It was covered in caked on blood. Obviously I must have stashed it in a hurry. After trying to recollect the events that caused such a dangerous act I came up with my reacquired blade only to find that I had been deserted. A shiver went up my spine and I cautiously made my way back to the train station. Along the way I spotted a patrolman making his rounds through the neighborhood. Luckily, I saw him quickly and was able to elude him. When I was finally able to board a train I positioned myself defensively in a corner. I rode home in a state of anxiety, not really thinking just alertly surveying my surroundings. My journey ended without incident. I made it home before 2 and caught a few hours of sleep after sterilizing my knife.

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.

The Return

Landed at the airport around three this afternoon. I was supposed to be back at noon. The city is experiencing a torrential downpour. It's taunting me, mocking my very existence. On the flight I was wedged between insufferable cattle. The one on my left felt that regaling me with the inane exploits of it's brain dead offspring was a good way to spend our seven hour flight. The one on the right occasionally pulled its nose from it's bible to nod at the anecdotes and throw out the occasional "He works in mysterious ways." By hour four I was waiting for my head to explode. I actually began to envy the surrounding cattle in their electronically induced comas. If nothing else I just wanted the cable from their headphones to strangle my bookends. When we finally touched down all of the gates were full, relegating us to deplane via staircase. A quarter mile trek in the rain to the terminal only to find out my luggage had been placed on a later flight. After unleashing a string of profanity at excessive volume I slid on my "human mask". I calmly explained to the attendant that I was leaving and that my bags should be forwarded to my home as soon as possible. I gladly paid the huge cost of taking a cab home. Me riding the train home, crammed in with cattle was not going to happen. I've been sitting here staring at the wall behind my darkened television, enjoying the silence and serenity.

The Passenger

Made it to Kansas City last night. I was quite surprised at how smoothly the trip went. I fully expected to be met at the airport by Detective Black and a herd of police. Perhaps I've been apprehensive for no reason. I sailed through security and boarded the plane with ease. Even the flight was enjoyable. It was half empty, just small patches of cattle here and there. I was even afforded a row to myself. I fell easily into much needed sleep. It was a blissful, dreamless sleep. When I deboarded the plane I was overwhelmed by the fresh crispness in the air. No overpowering stench of cattle, no stagnation choking the life from me. I felt a calm I've not had in days. On the cab ride from the airport I was in awe of the surroundings. Looking around it was like I was seeing the world with a new found clarity. Colors seemed sharper, a bit brighter. I even found myself jovially conversing with the cab driver. From the hotel I phoned Candace to converse with her and make plans for my return. One thing perplexed me about all of last nights events; I never once had to put on my "human mask".

Caffeine and Adrenaline

Haven't slept in two days. Been torturing my kidneys with coffee and Red Bull. While affective in keeping me from sleepwalking or whatever the hell happened, it has made me more on edge. I spend every waking minute glued to the computer and television searching for some sign, some indication of what may have happened. Even at the office I spend most of the day searching the internet for news. I've been neglecting my workload. I haven't even prepared for this trip to KC. On my daily commutes I study the faces of the cattle, exploring them for any signs of recognition. Mostly I just see the same blank faces, vacantly staring out the window or entranced by their electronic gadgets like zombies. However, I did see Mirror Man yesterday (or was it the day before?). He was sitting at the far end of the train, his well tailored suit and brief case almost an oxymoron against the surrounding backdrop. I caught him watching me. We briefly made eye contact, but he looked away in utter disgust. A lump formed in my throat and my mouth went dry. I felt a surge of anger and hatred towards him. What right does he have to look down his nose at me? His arrogance and disdainful attitude have made him my enemy. Perhaps when I return from my trip I will pay him a visit.

Still Lost

Been in a bit of a panicked frenzy for the last few days. Paranoia has ferociously gripped me. Every time any cattle walk past me I have to do a double take to make sure they aren't police. I've refused to use my land line and I've used my cell phone as sparingly as possible. Even email communications have been sparse. My train ride to work this morning was frantic. I backed myself into a corner to make sure I could keep my eyes on all of them. Anyone of them could have been a cop. Each new passenger added to possibilities exponentially. Even if they aren't police they could remember me and point me out later. At the office I could feel myself behaving like a caged animal, jumping at the slightest noise or movement. Maintaining my "human mask" was near impossible. This paradigm shift is completely wrong. They should be afraid of me, not the other way around.

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.

A Bad Day

Spent most of the night staring at the ceiling. I couldn't sleep and after Detective Black's visit I'm apprehensive about continuing my cattle hunting activities. The television offered no refuge. I spent some time online but all that did was fuel my desire to kill. After a sleepless night and a miserable train ride to work I had to deal with work. The Corporate Muppet was in my office when I walked in, beaming from ear to ear with a stupid grin. How I loathe that face. Every time I see it I have such a massive urge to gouge my thumbs into it's eyes. I want to see that smile while blood and pus stream down the Muppets face. Pulling myself back to the moment I learned that I'm being sent to Kansas City on Thursday. After a few moments of protests that fell on the Muppets deaf ears I started to realize that maybe getting away for a few days wouldn't be such a bad thing. I can get away from the good detective and this wretched city for a time.

Late Night Visitor

Detective Black came knocking on my door last night. I must admit I was quite taken by surprise. He was not what I was expecting to be on the other side of my door at 11:00 pm. He looked haggard, frustrated and angry. Sliding on my "human mask" I asked the good detective to what I owed the pleasure. He stared at me blankly for a moment, his steely grey eyes studying me. He told me that the F.B.I. has brought charges against their bombing suspect. I told him that I was relieved that they were able to apprehend the fiend responsible for so many deaths. He smiled weakly at me and nodded in agreement. He then inquired about my soap making. I responded that it was progressing nicely and offered him a few samples. He politely declined and thanked me for my time. As I closed the door, a chill shot through me. I believe the good detective maybe much more suspicious of me than he is letting on. He is more intuitive and intelligent than I believed him to be. He could pose a threat and must be dealt with.

Business as Usual

Run of the mill day at the office today. Paperwork, projects behind schedule, idiot clients and the Corporate Muppet flapping its head incessantly. The only thing that stood out was some of the water cooler conversation I was privy to. The cattle spoke at length about something being wrong in this city. Between the blast and the rash of killings in different areas of town, they are afraid to go out at night. Amazing how a big flash and a few quick slices can grip an entire populace with fear. These cattle are too feeble and weak willed to do anything even if they knew who was responsible for their panic. They are satisfied being complacent, waiting for someone else to clean up the mess. It's unfathomable that natural selection produced this as the pinnacle of evolution.