Rituals

Many people think that part of what we are is that we have rituals. We, vampires as “SiN” commented on the last post, get to do always the same thing for killing, hunting, stalking, etc. Like if we had some kind of mind disorder.

I do have some rituals, specially for killing. I love to take someone’s life at my torture room, my death temple. When I do it, I like to use a screwdriver. I usually tie the victim to my chair using a rope, and I take some time to finish my job. Not hours, but days. I like to enjoy it calmly, like when we have a delicious meal and we start eating by the borders, leaving the best part to the end.

But the reality is that everyone have rituals. Your routine is filled with it. When you wake up and first wash your face, then make and egg, then brush your teeth, and do the same everyday (usually in the same order). When you dress and prepare yourself to go out, transforming yourself from your workaday self to a more self-confident one. Before going to bed, when you turn off all the lights and computers, lock the door, prepare your clothes and material for the other day.

You’ll notice that you have a lot of rituals. But you have it to feel protected, secure. To help you with your fears.

My rituals are not to protect me from anything. They are more like “best-practices”. I’ve learned with time and experience what I enjoy the most. It is extremely pleasant to seek for a new prey, and to observe its everyday routine. And the capture part is so fun, I like to plan it, to imagine and re-imagine what I’m going to do, to think on all the possibilities. With time, I’ve learned the best ways to do it, not just the most effectives, but the most pleasing.
That’s why sometimes I repeat it, not to feel more secure. Not like you.

Do you feel compassion or fear the consequences?

I’ve been paying attention on people’s behavior around me and it made me raise a doubt.
What I’ve noticed is that many, many people who haven’t committed a crime or killed someone yet is just because they are afraid of the punishment, and not because they have compassion.
They are afraid of going to jail, or of the hell or of what others would think about it. Most of people aren’t really worried about the suffering they would cause to others, either to the victim or to the victim’s relatives.

I’ve witnessed many times some guys really angry because of stupid things like when they are on traffic, or at bars and night clubs. And when that happens I can see in their eyes that they would kill, that they are ready for it. Their anger is so strong that they want to finish with somebody’s life in the most horrible way.
If you ask them, they would probably answer: “Yes, I would kill this motherf*****!”.

But they don’t go forward because they are afraid of the consequences. If we didn’t have it (laws, religion, etc.), they would kill in a blink. Most people are like this. And it can be easily proved by the lands that have worst law enforcement, which are always the ones with the higher homicide rates.

So what it made me think is that, although everywhere is said that psychopaths don’t feel remorse, that’s why most (of us) are murderers, serial-killers, etc. what I realized is that the real difference is that we are not afraid. Not afraid enough. Of course the government would never spread this “discovery” or idea, because nobody wants to be a “chicken”, so it wouldn’t be good for society.

But stop a little bit and think about it: have you never killed someone because you fill compassion or because you fear the consequences?

Another one down. Who’s next?

These past weeks I was following a lead to another detective. This time it was a female.
I can’t understand why they are doing it. Why did they join a secret organization to go after me (or another ones)? Why take the risk? Maybe I’m giving them what they seek: death. That’s the most reasonable explanation I found.

With all the material and information that I got from the last murders, I found out about this woman. I discovered where she lived, so I had been carefully watching her daily routine, until this last Tuesday.

I noticed that every Tuesdays and Thursdays at night she had language classes. She was learning French. And it used to end around eight pm. To go back home, she used to go to a street that was way down the place where she studied. It was like if the school was on the top of a hill (small one) and she had to go down it to another street, using a stairway (it was a very urban place though, the place is surrounded by buildings). From there, she walked about two blocks to her bus stop.

Those stairs were the perfect place to strike. It never had anyone going down it, and she was always alone. And it didn’t have anything around, just bushes. The street where it ended was very “fast”, like a highway. And the bus stop, the nearest place with a group of people, was two blocks from there.

I stopped the car a little far from there and waited for the girl on those “stairs”, hiding in one of the bushes. As soon as she passed by me, I came from her back and put her to sleep using chloroform. I carried her down, and hided her sleeping body in a bush, still on the stairs. I got my car, drove to there, got her back very fast, threw in my car, and drove to my “torture room”.

Yes, my torture room. I missed it so much! As things have been really quiet lately, I decided to use it again.

Well, from there I did what I usually do. And I just killed the poor girl on Friday. I needed to “play” sometime with someone, my last murders happened too quick. And I had to satisfy my hunger for real this time.

Her body is already disposed. She didn’t talk much, but I could get some information. Who’s next?

Increasing Hate (or hunger?)

Do you know those days when you wake with the desire to kill anyone that gets in your way?

I have this feeling too. I mean, I’ve seen on TV, on documentaries about psychopaths and serial-killers, psychologists talking about how this kind of people (my kind, I guessed) don’t have feelings. Most of us don’t get emotionally attached to anyone, and we all just pretend to be normal, to feel, to have emotions.

It is true, I pretend to be someone else to the outer world. If I let my mask slip, I’ll probably end up in jail. People are still not ready to understand me. But I have some kind of feelings. Mostly hate tough.

So today I woke like this. With hate. You must have experienced it sometime. Maybe it is caused by a bad dream, or if you are under a lot of stress, or maybe it is just the hormones. On those days, the first one that steps on your foot, you feel like killing!

Well, at least that’s me with hate. I woke up, I was crossing a street to get to the market, and a guy riding a motorcycle passed really close to me (almost over me). Couldn’t he see me? Did he want to scare me? Teach me a lesson maybe? Well, all I know is that I pictured how I could have killed him in a thousand of different ways. None was painfully enough.

It was one of many occasions today.

I differ it from my natural hunger because when I’m with the urge to kill I want to kill anyone, don’t matter if they ever did something to me. I even prefer if they have never seem me before, and me, them. But today, I was with hate.

And then, I noticed: It has been two weeks, fourteen days since my last murder. It is like if I was looking for an excuse, a reason to satisfy my need. One little sparkle was all I need. Luckily I didn’t fall for it: one “justified” murder is all it takes to be caught.

So… Was it real hate? Or hate happens like this to anyone?

How I feel after I kill

Last week’s murders made me feel so good! As I always feel after I kill someone. I was thinking about that… It’s like if I had one more carnal necessity.
People in general feels hungry, thirsty, etc. And if we can’t fulfill these necessities, we loose our mind. We get temporarily irrational until we satiate it. We turn into savage animals. It can be called “survival instinct”.

I was born with one extra survival necessity. I don’t kill just because I want to. I need to. And it is not an addiction, because even when I was a kid and still didn’t know the real, dirty world we live in, I had this desire. And I’ve always wondered if it is just me… Am I a natural predator, or all we are? Maybe some of us have control over it or learn how to suppress this feeling or even live its life with an eternal need.

I’m blood thirsty. I’m hungry for flesh. I’ve always been. And as days passes by, and I don’t get to fulfill my needs, I begin to get more and more savage. It takes control of my mind, and then everyone that I see passing by me begins to look like a potential corpse.

So last week, as I watched the girl’s blood flooding the kitchen, her open throat, her husband’s panic face, the knife getting into his stomach, the life coming out of his eyes, it made me feel so alive, so satiated! It’s just like when you are almost starving and you get to eat. It’s a mix of relief with pleasure. I could do this all day long. And after a couple of hours, I need more.

But it has already been a week…

Two more murders

For the past few weeks my focus have been the detectives from this organization which is after me. I’ll kill one by one before they get too close.

I have been using what I have to connect with some of the “agents”, build a relationship with them and build some trust. I was able to infiltrate one of their communication channels (this one here) plus I found some direct ways to contact some of them.

I was in touch with one of the “detectives” specifically for some time.

But I was always very careful about raising any kind of suspicion on me. I would never, for example, arrange a meeting as a way to kill the guy, because it would be too obvious and they would probably connect the dots and find me very quick. I never asked too much, or came too close, because I wanted to be just another guy from the organization, one that he would never care to mention to anyone, just another regular detective.

And I waited… Until he gave me something.

Last Thursday this guy told me that some people were going to get together on the weekend for an online conference and he wouldn’t be able because he was going to travel with his wife to a country house, with no internet access. And he told me the city he was going to. I felt it was the perfect occasion to his death.

At that time, I had already discovered where he lived. So I waited at his address and carefully followed them to this country house. It was isolated from everything.

Hunting

Back to my hunting. I’m following the clues I found on the last detective’s house to get to the other agents. I already know how to find some of the people involved, but I’m waiting for the right time to attack.

I’ve started planning my strategy based on what I have, but to get more information about the whole thing I’m thinking that maybe I’ll use these guys to help me infiltrate, so I’ll have to wait until they are not useful to me anymore to kill them.

And these killings have to be very well planned as my last one was: if the cops find about this organization and its objective, they are going to go after me.

I haven’t taken a life for a couple of weeks now, it is going to be difficult to wait… But I have learned that planning is everything in this “business”. One mistake, and the fun can end for a long time (if not forever). Plus I love this planning process, even with all my hunger. I’ve already pictured myself killing all of them in a 1,000 of different ways.

And fortunately, one thing is clear to me: these people have no idea with who they are messing with. I have experience in killing for a lot of years now, since I was a child, what about them? They don’t even know how I look like, I found out they don’t know if I’m tall or short, thin or fat, black or white. They will never see me coming. I can be at your side right now, playing with you, how would you know? Anytime you will notice it, but it’s going to be too late.

My Torture Room

Just after I had escaped from that hospital I found my actual Torture Room. The one I still use today. In there I feel at home, I mean, really at home.
Where I live, by that I refer to the place I sleep, eat, rest and show to others, feels like a scenario to me. A scenario for the role I play for the world. The so-called “normal world”, the life of appearances where inside four walls most people have a second personality. (What is normal in that?) Thinking like that I can see I’m not that different.

Back to my torture room. I found it kind by accident. When I was escaping from that place, I had nowhere to go. Luckily I found an abandoned place where I could disappear for some time and that right away became my beautiful torture room (I guess some people have already discovered how I got there). Many have already seem, experienced and felt it. None survived.

Every time I kill someone in there, the place gets more powerful. I don’t really believe in souls, but I’ve noticed that death leaves some kind of energy. The kind I like. And every day that place seems to become more beautiful. And it brings so many memories back to me…

Right now I can’t use it. It has already been found two times by that secret organization that is after me, and I don’t want to risk to lose it. I can’t be sure if it is under surveillance or not, so I’m kind of cautious until I find those detectives. You can be sure many of them will meet it. You maybe will get to know it.

If you want to take a pick how it feels in there, follow this link and the instructions in it: torture room

Murder without remorse

I have been thinking about my childhood these days. Usually when things happened to me, like when I heard that somebody had died or had suffered an accident, or even when I had a “date”, I didn’t feel a thing. I was never sad or happy. But I could notice how people behaved on those situations, and I thought it was something they’d learned. So I used to think I didn’t know how I should feel because I was still too young.

So I started to observe and learn how I was expected to answer to every situation, so I could copy it. The movies were one of the sources to my learning process. I didn’t pretend anything just because I knew I had to hide who I really was, but because I thought everyone was just like me and that was the normal thing to do, to pretend emotions.

Now that I’m an adult, with all my experience, I’m still not sure if people can actually feel what they show or if they’ve learned it just like me. I mean, I’ve watched on documentaries and read on books about serial killers that the main difference about me and the “normal” are the emotions, that psychopaths don’t have feelings. And I am really like this.
But sometimes I think if in reality people in general don’t mix their feelings with what they are expected to feel. If they don’t pretend it just like me to seen like the others. If it is just something they were taught.

It’s not the first time I question it to myself because that’s something I really would like to know. The real difference between me and the “others” maybe is just a very thin line. It doesn’t really matter to me, it will make no difference to my life, but that’s a big curiosity I have.

To the crazy, the normal is crazy. Who are the “normal” in our world? Should I really be condemned and persecuted or follow? That’s something you should ask to yourself and learn with your instincts. And if you can, share with me.

Secret Organization

Now I’m ready to go after the ones that are chasing me. Two are already down.
I usually don’t need and don’t like having a reason to kill, as people can start to connect bodies to me, but this secret agency got too close.

I won’t write it down everything I had find out on my last “investigation”, but something I can tell is that it is an international secret agency which is after me. Although they are all connected to the same agency, they seem to be disconnected from any governmental organization, and one agent don’t necessary talk to others, as I suspected. It’s like if it had a prize for my head. I really don’t know how it happened.

So before they find me again, I will find them. One by one. I have a plan already.
After killing them all, I will make sure I erase anything that could lead the police to discover about this organization: I won’t leave any clues.
I won’t leave any hope as well.

Another thing is that I suspect the CIA is involved somehow, but if they knew enough I would already know. Anyway, I better take care.

I should stop using my own torture room for some time now… I don’t know if I can but I will try. But if someone finds it again, I will have to make he or she experience it.