Creepy story!
Yay! I have been the 'muse' for another story!!! whoop and this one from a completely un-expected source! I think that I have my true calling, I wonder if I could actually get a job as a muse...that would rock! anyways)...yet again the story I am inspiration for is deliciously warped....
Onward through the fog (AGH!!)...
Super-Badass story written by most excellent Roxann...
CHAPTER 1
Everyone was dead. "I didn't mean to do it, I swear." Rachel said quietly out of impulse. The only thing was, she did mean to do it. She genuinely enjoyed it. Instead of thinking of the consequences of her actions, she considered what great inspiration this incident would be for one of her poems. One of her poems detailing death and torture. One of her poems speaking of tender drops of blood gently dripping from the mangled body she envisioned in her head. She had never actually committed the acts in which she thought so vividly about, until now. Now, she had felt the sensation of watching the life drain from her victim's body. Now, she fondly remembered the taste of the blood she delicately dipped her finger into. Now, she could never go back to simply fantasizing about gently running her knife along a sweet innocent's body, pressing down the tip ever so slightly so as to draw just enough crimson liquid to send her into a frenzy. No, murder was her muse now.
I don't know what happened officer, it started out as just a game." Oh, it was no game, it never had been. From the moment she had secured the blindfolds over her unsuspecting friends eyes, she knew exactly what she was doing. She had thought it all out. But, not until her friends had a couple of glasses of wine in them did she truly decide to go through with it. They sat there, oblivious to the hell in which their hostess had in store for them.
"What'd you drug them with?"
"Oh no officer, I didn't drug them, they were all frequent users of what ever they could find. I myself would never do such a thing to my body." As her friends were delving into their fifth bottle of wine, she offered to get them fresh glasses. She brought the bottle with her into the kitchen, and while carefully pouring equal amounts in each glass, she also rationed the tiny bottle of morphine she had acquired while working for a short stint at the local hospital. None of her friends had ever touched anything beyond an over-the-counter prescription.
"You wouldn't drug them, but you'd slice them open like pieces of fruit?"
"It was a much more passionate act than simply chopping an apple in half, I can assure you of that officer."
"You're going away for a long time little lady." The officer finally handcuffed her and took her to the car. Two weeks later she was convicted of three counts of premeditated murder. She didn't fight the charge. She knew she couldn't. She had never intended to. She murdered her friends, and then called the police. When they showed up she was sitting on her couch admiring her knife that was stained with the thick blood. She never denied it. In fact, she was rather proud of her work. The only reason she hadn't left their bodies dangling there was because she didn't want them to start to smell. That was the only downside in her mind, the evil stench that accompanied sweet death.
Given the circumstance of the situation, her lawyer knew there was no point in even considering her pleading not guilty. Therefore, she pleaded the next best thing, temporary insanity. She was eighteen at the time. She would be considered for probation on her twenty-first birthday, given she showed improvement and stability. She was sent to the Underwood Mental Institution. And there she sat. And there she waited.
CHAPTER 2
Three years seem to flow by rather quickly when you keep yourself busy. When you make plans of what you want to accomplish. She made many plans. She had felt the power of taking another's life, and now, to say the least, she was craving more. She could hardly stand thinking about the intenseness of that last breath of air. The stillness in the air when the body finally goes limp. That profound moment when she slowly untied the blindfold and gazed into their vacant eyes filled with pain.
She never stopped writing her poems. Instead, she delved deeper into the darkness in her mind, the darkness of her soul. But now, she wouldn't just write what her innermost desires were, she would act upon them. Only, she knew she could not share with others her accomplishments, not after the last time. No, she would have to learn to cover her tracks. And, she would have to go some where far away, where they wouldn't suspect her of the vicious crimes she planned to commit.
Her birthday was just a few days away. The urgency for her to kill again pulsated in her veins during her last psychiatric evaluation before her hearing. As she sat there politely, answering with the words that she knew were her key out of there, she envisioned cutting open her doctor's shirt. Taking her knife and pricking at each button until the last one hit the floor. Running the blade along every visible trail of blood flowing within his body. She could not think those thoughts now. She had to be a well-adjusted, fully cured, no-threat-to-society young lady.
Her trial came. Judgment day. Would they see through her facade? Would they believe every lie her lips uttered? They would. She knew they would. She would make them. She knew what to do, what to say, and how to be perfectly convincing. They would see that her demons were behind her, because that is what she wanted them to see. They wouldn't know that she faced her demons every day, and greeted them with a smile. They would have no idea that she had complete intention to indulge her every whim. If she felt the need to see what a precious heart looked like when beating its soft melody, then she would.
CHAPTER 3
The winter frost was nearing when she stepped foot off of the bus. She had traveled over six-thousand miles over the past week. No one would know her here. No one would think anything of her, other than the new girl in town. And that was perfect. No one would prevent her from fulfilling her destiny, to kill again, and again, and again...
There you have it!...and she tells me that more is pouring forth.....