FryDay

FryDay









I’m a farmer, have been all my life, still work the farm my daddy gave to me when he died and his daddy gave him before that.  It’s a mite smaller than when my granddaddy worked it, but I’m still real proud of it, got a small herd of cows, more ‘n a few pigs, some chickens, a few crops that get smaller every year, and a donkey just to look at as he crops grass.  I’ve a wife, 3 kids, 2 dogs, and a cat.  Life on this farm is pretty normal, except for one thing, I don’t fight the urges like most folks do, I live out the things that go through my head.



Ahh, yes, the urges, you know what I mean, the ones where when someone really gets under your skin, or you think they ought to pay for something they’ve done, and so you imagine ways you could do it?  Well, I follow those urges, and actually make them happen to those deserving of it.  Not all the time, mind you, and not every single person who I get ticked at, shoot, there wouldn’t be anyone left!  No, I only allow myself to ‘urge’ every now and again, always on a Friday, or as I like to call it, FryDay, since I always make sure nothing goes to waste on the body.  What me and my little family don’t eat, my pigs finish up for us, although the family doesn’t have any idea what they’re eating sometimes.  The clothes always get donated to the nearest Goodwill store, any jewelry gets pawned and then I donate that money to the local Humane Society.  I like to feel that I’m making the world a better place, one slack-jawed idiot at a time.  It does give me pause from time to time to think that I’m deceiving my family about this, but I just figure that it’s better for all of us if they don’t know anything.



One more thing I should tell about my urging, I only remove those who aren’t directly connected to me.  These would be someone who has wronged a close friend or acquaintance of mine in some way, however small.  Over the years, of all those that have fallen, the only two that were immediate to me were the first two when I initially gave into the feelings that I wanted to cause violence on people.  I’m writing all this down for whatever reason, but I suppose it’s so that I have my story told, especially since after almost 15 years and so many people I can’t remember all of them, I finally mucked up my process, and I’m sure I’ve been discovered, should only be a matter of time I suppose before they come for me.  I hope my tale is either enjoyed or learned from, because I feel I was doing good, so disgust and judgment I’m not expecting.



My journey started when I was 19; stuck in a loveless marriage to the most slothful woman I think I’ll ever know.  Her father was a real mean SOB, he had this way of being a sarcastic jerk that would make most people start stammering and feel stupid.  I never felt that way, because, even though I chose to stay on and maintain the family farm, I’m not stupid by any definition.  He never knew that I saw right through him and his game, and I never let on either that I knew.  I was pressured into the marriage, really didn’t want to go through with it, but also didn’t want to disappoint anyone.  See, back then, I was a pleaser, always trying to keep peace and make everyone happy.  I’ll never know for sure, but to this day I have a paranoid intuition that he pushed her to marry me so he could get a foothold in my farm, since the land was so valuable.  He had a few friends in high places, and I suspect that he had a readymade deal in place to somehow get my farm and sell it to the county for some big construction thing, who knows?



What a day for a FryDay to happen on, especially it being the first one, although I didn’t know it then.  My father-in-law was over to help me work on my tractor, I may run a farm, but I know next to nothing about mechanical workings, and he was a first-rate mechanic, so it was a perfect fit.  We were in the barn, and he was looking it over, running his game of trying to make me feel dumb because I didn’t know how to fix my own farm equipment, and I was just playing along as I always did, nodding and smiling, but never stammering.  After a while of watching him work and listening to him run his gob, an idea started to form in my head, just one of those fun little thoughts of killing him with the axe leaning against the wall.  Just one easy swipe through his neck, and then done with it. 



I just kind of chuckled inwardly, sort of dismissing the idea, like we all do.  Then my ‘loving’ wife came into the barn and started in on me about just standing there and watching, like she was expecting me to be out choring while he was in the barn working on my machine.  That was when my brain thought about how much fun it would be to take care of her right then and there as well, and also how much of a challenge, could I get them both without any injury to myself?  At this point, it was still just inner musings, not really fully formed ideas or anything close to a plan.  But, after about 20 minutes of listening to her nag and him making little comments when he thought nobody could hear him, I sort of snapped, and decided to either end them, or myself.



I turned to her and said that if she would just shut up, I’d go out and chop some wood for the upcoming winter, just for an excuse to have the axe in my hands.  Even to this day, I can remember the triumphant look on her face as she thought she’d just bullied me again and won one of her little battles, and the smirk on his as he watched it unfold.  I walked over to where the axe was and picked it up, feeling the heft of the weight, seeing in the corner of my eye the two of them nodding at each other that I was one more step to being totally beaten.



I had decided that I should go after my father-in-law first, since he was bigger and stronger, and infinitely smarter than my wife.  Plus, I figured that she wouldn’t believe it was really happening until she felt the blade for the split second she would be able to have such feeling.  So, I nonchalantly walked over to where he was down on one knee next to the tractor, as if to make sure he wasn’t going to be needing my help.  He looked up at me with a sneer of derision on his lips, and said that he didn’t need my help, he had it under control.  There was a moment just before I raised the axe, when our eyes met, and he must have saw something different, or odd, or whatever, because he started to get to his feet.  I couldn’t have him on his feet, so I swung the handle, and clunked him in the forehead, and he went down on his back, dazed.  My slovenly wife still didn’t realize what was going on, she thought it was an accident, or that he tripped. 



As fast as I could, I brought the axe up, and then swung it down, slicing his neck in two, his head rolling away from his body.  She just stood there with this stupefied expression on her face, and was only able to let out one little yelp before I separated her head from her body, decapitating my bride and her father in less than 45 seconds combined.  The blood was spurting out of his neck surprisingly fast, I hadn’t expected that much.  Her body just stood there for a few seconds before toppling over front ways, and then THAT one started spurting everywhere.  I thought how lucky it was that I lived on a decent sized farm with no neighbors close, or I’d be up a creek. 



I knew I had time, what with no one planned for a visit, and him usually staying pretty late to drink a few beers after whatever work he came to do was done.  Sooo, I just moved back from the spreading blood, and watched them slowly stop pumping.  My first thought was to bring the pigs in and let them feast, but I remembered reading somewhere that I had to crush some of the bigger bones first, so I got down and started to muscle my wife’s body around, getting covered in her blood.  Somehow, I got her on a hand cart, and was leaning there, when I absentmindedly wiped my mouth with a hand that was still dripping with blood.  I automatically licked my lips, and was shocked at the taste of old pennies, but also slightly intrigued that it tasted good. 



I then had my second thought, that maybe I should see if I could salvage some sort of meat from these two human cows, and then give the remains to my pigs.  This may sound totally disgusting to some, but I was thinking how much good I’d just done the world, ridding it of these two wastes.  If more good were to come from it, like me feeding myself without killing my actual cows, then so be it.  I won’t go into the details of what came next, suffice to say that my freezer was stocked with steaks and burgers, and my pigs had a great time cleaning up my barn floor, after which I covered it with hay and sawdust, and hired someone else to come in and fix my tractor.



I sat down and did some thinking about how great it felt to end the lives of two horrible human beings, and wondered if I should do like to others that I thought deserved it.  I figured it wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all, but this was too close to me, I would need to broaden my horizons if I were to ensure that I wouldn’t be caught.  Since I’ve always been a quiet introverted sort, it was no shock that I was able to pull the wool over the eyes of the police and my mother-in-law and even my own mother when they all came asking about what had happened.  I stuck to the basics, he had never shown up the day he had promised to work on my tractor, and she had gone grocery shopping, and never came back.  I was lucky in that they believed that right away and didn’t poke around too much in my outbuildings, so I had extra time to dispose of their vehicles.  I just drove each one as far as I could in different directions, and left them in shopping center lots, and grabbed a bus ride home.  The cars were eventually found, and quicker than I expected, but the police just assumed they were running from something.  With all of my father-in-laws connections, it was just thought that either he was scared or had been taken care of, and the thought on my wife was that she was just shacking up with different guys and would be found when she wanted to be.



After about 4 or 5 months, I filed for divorce on the grounds that she had abandoned me, and it was granted.  My ex mother-in-law was very sympathetic, and stopped by for dinner often, I think she was lonely and hoping that something would spark up between us, but that never happened.  She was nice enough, but I’d had my fill of that family, and I knew that all I ever saw was her mask anyway, once she got her hooks into me I’d see the real her, and I was not interested in that.  After awhile, she stopped coming by, and then she stopped calling or writing, and around the time my mom died was when I heard my last from the ex mom-in-law, by way of a card expressing her grief over my mother.  I just kind of stayed to myself for the first 2 or 3 years after my ribbon cutting, working my farm, tending my animals, bowling on Thursday nights, ignoring the churchies.  I made friends, and kept them.  They were my family, and I took that bond very seriously, if someone aggravated one of my friends bad enough, then I got personally involved and did something about it, and that’s where a lot of my earlier urges happened.



As I’ve said, I don’t remember all of my experiences into the urging, it’s kind of like I go into a sort of semi-fugue, and just act and react to the situation as it develops.  There are exceptions to this rule, as there always are, where I remember most of what happened.  I guess I should share as much as possible about those times, since this is my tell all, and it will close the book on many disappearances that have gone unsolved with no bodies or any evidence.  You might even call it my ‘greatest hits’ list, the few occurrences I’m going to put down while I have the time.  If I ramble, please forgive me, I’m still so disillusioned that I mucked up my processes enough to probably be stopped, well, eventually stopped, there’s no maybe about it.



I mentioned that I went bowling each week on Thursdays, right?  Well, anyway, one of the people in the league, not on my team, just a close friend on another team, he was always complaining about his neighbor giving him trouble.  This neighbor was always shooting at his dog with a BB gun, calling the police about loud music late at night, mowing the grass further over the property line each time.  After a while, I decided the time had come for someone to intervene and make my friends’ life a little more bearable, mayhap time for a fryday, I started to think.  So, I began my little dance, I subtly got just enough information to determine which side of his house he was talking about, wouldn’t do to take care of the wrong neighbor, now would it?  I followed him home without him knowing it, and started to get the layout of the neighborhood.  I decided to take the next few days off at the farm and do a little sleuthing on this neighbor.  I figured out which car was his, and how often he went out at night, turns out he didn’t go out much at night, was more of an early morning person.  Oh well, if it had to be done in the daylight, then it did, he’d be gone before anyone would know it anyway. 



The next Thursday, after bowling, I finished before my buddy, so I left right away instead of my usual in the bar time, and drove over to his neighborhood to set my trap.  After carefully watching him for a few days, I was guessing he would be going grocery shopping soon, and I was banking on Friday morning.  I put some nails under his tires, not big ones that would blow the tire immediately, but small ones that would gradually let the air leak out.  I happened to be wrong about the groceries, but he did go out bright and early Friday, just on some errands I suppose.  He went first to the post office and then to the bank, never suspecting he had a tail on him.  From the bank, he was headed homeward when he must have felt his tire was flat, so he pulled over to check it out, and flat it was!  As he was preparing to put his doughnut on, I pulled over, got out, and walked up to see if he could use any assistance.  He was very gruff, and kind of barked at me that he was fine, I guess common courtesy isn’t appreciated much anymore.  So, as he was wrestling his flat off the car, I reached down, picked up his tire iron, and clubbed him in the side of the head hard.  He let out one little exhalation of noise that I would come to know as his last vocal utterance.  When his head hit the road, it kind of crunched a bit, a very satisfying sound.  I picked him up, grateful that he was smaller than my father-in-law, put him in the back of my truck, and covered him with a tarp. 



I went back, and changed the tire on his car, put the tools and flat in his trunk, and drove his vehicle back to the bank, which was only about 4 or 5 miles back the other way, taking along my spare gas can.  I had started to walk back to my truck, and was about a mile down the road, when something I really didn’t want to happen did, my buddy came along.  He stopped, wondering what I was doing out his way, so I said I was on my way to see him about doing some plumbing work for me, him being an expert in bathtubs.  I had run out of gas and had hoofed it back to town and was on my way back to my truck, so he gave me a ride.  As I emptied my can in the truck, we chatted a bit about my tub problems (which I would have to make real when I got home) and set up a time early in the next week when he could come out to check it out.  He went on his way, and I went home to finish my job with Mr. Neighbor, who as it turned out had died when his head hit the road, guess his skull fractured or whatever. I was relieved it had all worked out as well as it had.  That was actually my number 3, and it also went smoothly.  I never even got questioned about that one, seeing as how I had no connection with the guy, there was no need.  It’s a comforting feeling to do that kind of good, and have no suspicion cast on you.  The closest I came to being suspected was in a little conversation with my bowling buddy, he was talking about how he hadn’t had any problems from his neighbor in a long time, and in fact nobody had even seen him since the day he met me on the road, which was so close to the bank where he was last seen.  He dismissed it as coincidence though, and that was the last I heard of it.



Well, I guess good calls to good, and doing those favors for the world, it must have wanted to pay me back, so it sent me a sweet girl to steal my heart.  We met at a bowling banquet, she was there with someone else strictly as friends, and I of course was alone.  We ended up at the buffet table together, and got to talking, and as it turned out, she was for some strange reason interested in farming.  We left the banquet and went to a little all night diner and just sat and talked till the wee hours, we probably would’ve stayed there all day, but I happened to look outside and noticed the early purplish glow of the sunrise.  I somehow managed to tell her I had to go, even though my brain and all my insides told me to stay, but I had a lot of work to do at home.  She was very sympathetic, and we made a date for the very same place two days later.  Those were the two longest days of my life, even longer than the ones where I was waiting to be found out at the beginning with my first wife and her dad.  I was so sure that she wouldn’t be there, and when I arrived early, and she wasn’t, I was brokenhearted, thinking that I’d missed it so easily and so soon.



As I sat there drowning my sorrows in a cup of coffee, she came in and sat down next to me at the counter, and asked why I looked so sad.  I told her the truth, I had gotten there first, and was so sure that she wasn’t coming, and I was upset that I’d somehow chased her off already.  She appreciated my candor, and laughingly told me I had nothing to worry about.  So, we went to the same booth from the other night, and did our talking thing, with a much different ending.  Not getting into the details of that experience, I’ll just say that two months later, we were married, and she was living with me at my farm.  She helped with the chores, and all the farming duties, all while keeping her job at the local clothing store as something called a buyer.  She would go on trips from time to time to do buying for the store, I really had no hope of understanding the clothing industry, I was just happy I had found real love, and that she was just as interested in me as in my farm.  Over the years, as I’ve said earlier, we had 3 wonderful children, and made a nice little life on that land, but that’s all sideways to my real point here, so I won’t go on about it anymore, although if I’m being completely honest, I’m most worried about how she’ll react to all of this coming out, but oh well, can’t change it now.



After the wedding, but before my next “big hit”, things kind of moved in a blur.  There were more than a few urges that I let control me, the guy who convinced my brother-in-law’s girlfriend to cheat on him, I kept him alive for three days in the basement under my slaughterhouse.  I put one of my bigger pigs down there with him, and let it just chew on him for awhile, then I went down and made him watch as I sliced off parts of his body and fed them to the pig.  I even made him watch as I ate some of the more delectable pieces myself.  He lasted longer than I thought, must have been his youth, but anyway, after three days, he finally passed out from blood loss and pain I suppose, and just never woke up.  Then there was the lady that kept being a pain in the neck of a friend who worked as a trainer at a gym.  She was always criticizing my friends’ methods of training, ‘accidentally’ knocking over her water bottle, sucking up the boss in order to get favors, just making her days there very taxing.  I managed to get her when she was on a hike in the woods near my house, she was by far the easiest, I simply found out beforehand what trails she walked, and then waited, with no one near to hear anything, I took my time, drove a piton as deep into her eye as I could and watched her spasms as they started out frenzied, and slowly turned into sluggish barely perceptible movements.  She was very tender, which was shocking to me considering how much she was supposed to be working out, and the fact that she hiked, but oh well, maybe it works oppositely in humans as animals.



It’s kind of fun reminiscing like this about all the good I’ve done erasing these horrible people from the crop that is my fellow man.  Let’s see, there was this older woman who had been having relations with my earliest friend, she strung him along for months, telling him over and over she would leave her husband, and he fell for it.  Eventually, she just told her husband that this guy had been stalking her, and they put my friend in a bunch of trouble.  For her, I decided to be bold, I found out where she lived, waited for hubby to go to work, then just acted like a common break in thief.  I kicked the door in, and got to her just as she was trying to call 911, I punched her in the face as hard as I could, and boy was my shoulder sore for about a week after that.  She dropped to the floor like a sack of wet laundry, straddling her, I just put my hands around her throat, and choked the evil life right out of her limp body.  When I was sure she was done breathing, I explored the kitchen, looking for a tool that would do the job I needed it to do.  Finding one of those knives that cuts the frozen meat and nails and whatnot, I went back to her and just started hacking away.  I left her husband the head, and her nether region, so he could see what happens to adulterous sluts that fib to keep out of trouble.



I have this other friend, he’s really my best friend, but he’s had so much bad happen to him that I can recall 3 times I had to act out on his behalf without him knowing it, although I think he suspects something.  The first time, he had been dating this one girl from another state, she basically dinked him around for 4 months, conning him out of money, using him to get away from an abusive ex-husband, somehow scamming him into being her vouch to get custody (not sure how that worked, but whatever).  So, I went down to her state, and had dinner at the restaurant where she waitressed, making sure I was in her area so I could get the measure of the woman.  All I saw was just another prostitute in nice girls’ clothing, she was good, very good, if I hadn’t already known her for the hobgoblin she was, I may have been stuck in her web as well, but I’m also good at what I do, or did.  After my dinner, I unobtrusively went on my way, just another male customer happily served in the walk of life for her.  After her shift, on her drive home, she must have been discomfited by the headlights that never left her mirror, see, I wanted to put a scare into her for all the hurt she had caused my friend.  She pulled over to let me by, so I drove slowly past the front of her car, and then whipped my truck to angle in front of her so she couldn’t leave.  When I broke the window on her door, she was blubbering and trying to give her tips for the night, begging me not to rape her.  She was very boring, and it was slightly ironic that she was so worried about crimes being done to her when she was slime to begin with.  I took the fork I had stolen from the diner and jabbed it into the side of her neck.  Oh, but her blood was sweet, it never failed to amaze me how sweet and tasty these people were even though they were so bad in their souls, if they had souls that is.  I heaved her into the back of my truck, covered her with my all purpose tarp, and just left her car sitting where it was, bloody and all.  No worries, there would be no body, and besides, they’d never trace it back to anywhere near me.



Second time I acted out for this same friend was actually very far disconnected from me in a way.  His sisters’ boyfriend was a very violent person, I never quite got the intimate details, but I got the idea that he liked to physically pick on those around him that had no chance of defending themselves, like his girlfriend, and maybe even her kids.  There was a bad fight he told me about, where this charming man managed to throw my friends sister out of a moving car.  I figured I could do something about this guy before he hurt someone else, or worse, killed a little one.  So, I began to frequent the bar he was a regular at, very loud boisterous moron he was.  I just kind of sat in the shadowy corner and watched and learned, even sitting back during a bar fight he instigated.  Very funny, watching that, he starts the fight, realizes that he has no chance, and manages to include his friends so he doesn’t have to be shown up.  I foresaw much fun with this piece of work.  I managed to be there on his payday, and just sat quietly back watching him get completely blitzed, and near the time he usually left to go probably beat on his girlfriend (no longer my friends sister, but who cares) I just went outside and leaned on my truck, parked next to his of course.  He came staggering out, and actually was going to try and drive home in that condition, through minor familiarity of being bar people, he nodded recognition at me, and I talked him into letting me give him a ride home.  I can laugh out loud now at how easy he was, I had no vehicle to dispose of, he didn’t put up any fight because he passed out in the truck.  I knew though that I wouldn’t enjoy any of him, so I just trussed him up nice and neat, and put him in my pigpen.  Normally, I like to sleep with a fan, but that night, him screaming while the pigs were at him was my white noise for the night.  Next morning, I went out and took care of the remains, just scattered bones and the skull, and settled into my daily routine of chores waiting for my wife to come back from her current trip.



My last time for that friend that I want to tell you about was very satisfying, for both of us, and it’s also one my greatest hits.  He had a job in a factory, and his boss was a complete jack in the box all the time, even when he didn’t need to be, he just was.  Apparently all this guy did was look for ways to suspend people without pay rather than try to efficiently run his department.  Well, my buddy kept telling me how this yutz was always on him for things he didn’t do, like wasting time when he was doing his math, or talking to other employees when he was talking about work matters.  It seemed like every day there was a new occurrence of this boss going out of his way to make things rough for not just my friend, but other hard working people too.  And so, I did my usual homework, , I found out what he looked like and the kind of car he drove, and just kind of blended in at his shops parking lot and asked around.  I waited for a snowy day, and was lucky enough to get the parking spot next to this wonderful reservoir of bubbly humanity.  Through my casual conversations, I had discovered that the bosses were usually leaving much later than the employees due to their paperwork, and when they suspended someone, it was even worse, so I was almost guaranteed enough alone time to do my thing.  I just sat in my truck, seemingly warming it up, and here he came, looking just like I had heard, big head and all.  I got out and offered to help him clean off his car, since it had snowed quite a bit during his day there.  He shrugged me off, and was the rude jerk I had heard about, I just couldn’t believe how manners were treated when I left the womblike safety of my farm.  So, I made a show of getting my ice scraper to clean my windows, my special ice scraper, I had changed the rubber blade for a metal one.  He turned his back to start his own cleaning off, and I took him down with two quick hard jabs to back of that giant head with my scraper.  The second was deep, and stuck, so I held him sort of, and let him fall back gracefully into the bed of my truck, where my handy tarp was waiting.  I just drove off leaving his car warming up, and took him home to have my own brand of fun.  He was so big, that it took me awhile to get his dead weight outta my truck and into the barn, I only took the prime parts for myself, and gave the pigs a special winter wonderland feast.  I even went a little farther this time around, and I know when he reads this, my friend will be disgusted, but I gave him some of the meat from his boss, telling him it was from one of my cows and I had no more room, sorry friend, I thought it poetic justice.



It wasn’t long after the ice-scraper incident that I fell for another urge, this time to aid a friend who had been taken in and controlled by a more dominant woman from her job.  I’m including this one because I feel responsible for what happened afterwards as well as for reaping the evil.  My poor little friend, she was so weak minded and easy to push around.  I believe that she had a need to be controlled by someone else, and she just wasn’t happy trying to make her own decisions on even the simplest of things.  Well, her acquaintance from work was just the opposite, always needing someone to control, and she was VERY good at her end of the game, very skilled at the guilt and deep seated guile that allowed her to end up with so many of these people in her circle.  She was always using these poor sheep and shearing them of their wool so they really couldn’t survive on their own.  After an argument over this person basically ended the friendship for us, I still felt it my duty to make sure no one else would be affected by this paragon of virtue.  So, I managed to have it known around that a new scheme to get rich quick was having a meeting near the co-workers house, confident that she would go since she was so money hungry.  Sure enough, the night of the meeting she was right there front row center, soaking in how better to shear her sheep.  I kind of wanted this one to look like a murder to everyone, not just another disappearance, so I simply followed her home, and rushed her as she unlocked her front door.  When she started to shout for help as we fell into her house, I flew into a red veiled rage, not normal for me.  I just began punching her in the face, over and over and over, feeling the cheek bones and eye sockets crunching and then breaking under my fists.  She eventually stopped making noises, and all that was left was to make my statement.  I carved out her heart, and put it in a bag to take home, I had plans for that.  The rest of her vital organs, I freed from her poisonous body, and spread them around her house, sticking a dollar bill on each one.  Beating it out of there, I was about a mile away when the cops flew by me on their assumed way to her house.  Too close for comfort, I would have to be more careful in the future, it wouldn’t do to be forcefully stopped before my important work was done.  At home, I stuffed the heart into a cardboard box with some dollar bills and then mailed it GD to my friend.  Her reaction was not what I had hoped for, I was hoping for more confidence in herself, not taking her own life, racked by the guilt that she had caused this to happen.  After that happened was the longest gap between any of my outings, I was so shocked and plagued by the thought that maybe I was in the wrong?  Much soul searching told me that I was not wrong, my action with the heart was simply misguided, I would continue in my quest to eradicate whatever evil I could.



So much time passed that I had to kill an actual cow to fill the freezer.  The difference in meat quality was very noticeable, but I explained it away by saying the cow I’d done this time was older and thus different in tenderness.  Reflection made me realize that I should be killing more cows anyway, just to mix in to allay suspicion.  Speaking of suspicion, more dead cows would also help keep questions from being asked about why my herd is never diminished.  Maybe some pork too, even though my pigs are more like family pets than animals to be slaughtered, but gotta keep things looking on the up and up.



When I finally made the decision to keep my work going, I already had the perfect person to show to my piggies.  A female friend had been in love with a guy who treated her like so much poop, only wanted her when there was no one better, was unkind to her in public to protect his reputation.  And finally left her over for a woman he worked with who treated him much worse than my friend ever did.  I would be content with either the man or the woman, but both together would quite the coup.  Knowing that they always used the same motel for their rendezvous, it was just a matter of being patient and waiting for them to go to it on a Friday.  It was only a few weeks when that happy event occurred.  My hubris almost cost me dearly in thinking it would be so easy to take both of them just because they would be in the throes of passion.  After they went into their room, I waited about 30 minutes for them to be occupied, and then I used a stolen key, and quietly entered the room.  If they hadn’t been so locked on each other, it may have ended even worse than it did.  I was able to make it all the way to the side of the bed, standing over them before the woman noticed me and started trying to make him realize they were no longer alone.  It’s a little funny now, but in the mythos of man and woman, he played the stereotypical role of the female in that he put up no defense and was dead before he hit the floor thanks to the sickle I brought.  I totally underestimated the woman, because as I was working the sickle back and forth to get it out of his lower head, she attacked with one of her high heels.  She managed to knock me down and jab me in the chest with that darn spike three or four times before it clicked that when I fell over, the sickle had come loose.  I reached up and grabbed her hair, all the while her still jabbing me with the shoe, I yanked her head back as hard as I could and stuck the sickle into her throat.  Sure, I was doused with blood, but it’s not like I hated that feeling.  She died as she collapsed on me, and I just lay like that for awhile, waiting to see if the wounds I had suffered were more serious than they felt.  When I didn’t get light headed, I pushed her off, and stood up, just testing my balance since I would for sure need my strength to get the two of them out of there.  Slightly chagrined at leaving my own blood mingled with theirs on the carpet, I nonetheless struggled getting them both under my tarp.  I just left their cars, hoping that no one had seen me or my truck, it was pretty late, and in a terrible part of town so my odds were good (and they held, I was not seen).  I had to tell my wife that I tripped in the barn and got stuck just a bit on the combine, with no reason to believe otherwise, she let it go, sorry I lied to you sweetheart, it was necessary at that point.



Since I had to wait until I healed before I could take on another human being, I just decided to wait until winter, which was only a few months away, and anyway my next target was a hunter so I knew I could get him in the woods alone.  My wife and I both had a great friend, she was very funny, intelligent, amiable, and always nice to have around.  But, she had this boyfriend who treated her like garbage, and in front of people too.  Always going out of his way to cut her down and try and make her feel stupid.  He reminded me an awfully lot like my ex-father-in-law.  When she finally got the nerve up to break up with this gargoyle, he responded by trashing her house, cutting the furniture, spray painting the walls, breaking windows, just totally vandalizing the entire place.  I knew when she told us about him, that he would end up in my freezer, the only question was how long would I wait.  I managed to wait until she was happily married to someone else and living far away.  I knew that his guard would be way down; he might even think he got away with it.  So, I went out one night to his preferred area for deer, and climbed into the crook of a tree to wait.  I had brought a bow, so that there would be no helpful hunters responding to a shot.  I only needed to wait about 3 hours when he stalked by, there was a tense moment when he was directly beneath me; it was almost as if he had smelt something in the air.  I saw him literally shake his head and keep walking.  When he got far enough out, I strung the arrow, pulled it back, and let fly!  It was slow motion, watching the arrow soar through the air and enter his neck from behind.  He turned towards me with a look of complete shock, he even managed to turn his head and look in a few directions, never looking up and seeing me.  I relished the sight of the arrow coming out the front of his neck.  Then he just sort of fell over onto his face, it was sort of anti-climactic.  I just got out of my tree, picked his short body up, took him back to my truck, covered him up, and went home.  I think she was suspicious of me though, because I remember one of the times she was crying to us about him, I jokingly asked her if she wanted me to feed him to my pigs, and even went so far as to say that it was only a matter of time until someone did it anyway.  Even though I was never questioned, that friendship kind of became strained and then petered out, with no proof, she couldn’t point my way, but she had a hunch I think, oh well.



I’m getting a sense that my time is running out, so I’d better lean towards wrapping this up.  I’ve got two more times I feel I should get out, one being my big mistake.  This one is not that mistake, though I feel as with no other, that I was justified this time.  This woman was a complete waste of oxygen and life force.  From the stories I’d heard, there was not one single person she ever worked with that she did not start a vile argument with over insignificant things.  She even went so far as to get someone fired once over nothing, but she managed to make it happen because she was louder and had the verbiage for it.  It was really too bad that no one could pin anything on her, even though she was always drugged up at work, on some pill or another.  But the thing that brought her into my world was her screwing over someone that was very close to both my wife and I, at least at one time she was.  This woman and our friend were in sales together, and they had made a few sales together, and our friend made a few on her own.  Well, the woman managed to make the paperwork look like she had made all the sales herself and our friend hadn’t sold anything, so she received none of the commission and this person got all of it.  Losing her house and having to move back in with her parents to get back on her feet cost our friend her relationship.  This was too much for me to take, so I called her office and arranged for this woman to come and show me their products.  I used a recently vacated house (not my friends, that would have been bad) as my trap.  After she was invited in and started to show me their cleaning supplies, I just hit her on the head with her own vacuum cleaner, and put her in my truck.  I had different plans for her though, so I went through her car, and found her address, and a healthy supply of her meds.  Taking all the bottles I found, I drove to her house.  Pity that she lived alone, with only a few dogs as company.  First I made sure that there was no way that her mutts could get to any food of any kind.  Then I tied her up on the floor, and dumped a glass of water on her head.  She spluttered awake and started crying wondering why this was happening to her, everyone was always against her.  I told her if she didn’t shut up I would cut out her tongue and she shut up.  I force fed her just enough pills to get her seriously looped, but not enough to make her pass out.  Then I rubbed a raw steak all over wherever her skin was showing.  Taking a knife from her kitchen, I cut the steak up into little chunks and stuck the chunks into her clothes, and ears, and nose, and hair.  I went back home for a few days, to let nature take its course.  When I went back in, the dogs had eaten enough of her to kill her, and it was not a pretty sight, even for an old hand like me.  I put her back in my truck, and even took the dog’s home with me, because they were innocents, with no idea of what needed to be done.  I fed the rest of her to my pigs, because there wasn’t any way at all her meat would be palatable to me.  I told my family I had picked the dogs up at the pound for them, and was a hero for saving the animals!  Good deeds all around that day.



OK, time to talk about how I finally mucked up my process.  After 15 or so years and God only knows how many people, I have to tell about my only mistake.  A little background first I suppose, is necessary.  My first wife’s mother had started to have suspicions about me and my innocence in the disappearance of her husband and daughter.  That it would be something so simply innocuous which would end my journey is so ironic.  I’m sure you remember that I usually pawned all jewelry?  Well, that includes watches too.  What I didn’t realize, since it was my first time and I was just trying to get rid of all evidence, was that the ex father-in-law had a special watch.  It had been his wife’s grandfathers, sort of a family heirloom, and instantly recognizable to her.  Eating in a restaurant one afternoon, she saw that rotten watch on the wrist of the man at the very next table, stupid coincidences. Blown away, she asked where he had gotten it.  Using just a little detecting ability, she managed to trace it all the way back to a local pawn shop, where I was still on record as having sold the watch 15 years earlier.  I’m still unsure why she didn’t go right to the police with this information, perhaps she was still trying to be completely positive on where her mind had gone.  She didn’t come right up to me either; she was at least smart about that, at first.  She set about watching me, she followed me into town, and of course, she finally managed to follow me on one of my urges.  It was a misty rainy morning, and so she wasn’t 100% sure of what she saw, so she decided to confront me and see what I had to say before she went to the police.  Imagine my surprise, answering the knock at the door and finding her on my porch.  Well, she laid it all right out on the table, told me what she knew, what she suspected, and where she was going after she left me.  She only came to me first so that she could ask me to explain why I had done this to her family.  At that point, I made the wrong choice, I told her I could show her, but we’d have to go to the barn because that’s where it happened.  So gullible she was, following me right out to the spot where she would cease to exist.  While I was choking the life out of her, I didn’t understand the look of happy triumph in her eyes, nor did I understand right away the import of her forced final words, “purse, letter”.  After I was finished with her body and car, I opened the letter addressed to me I had found in her purse.  That letter rocked my reality, and I’ve thought of it over and over in the few days since I opened it. 



She knew I would kill her, she had watched me kill someone; even through the fog it was almost a definite.  And so, she had written the letter to me, but she had also written two others, one to her good friend saying that if she didn’t return in 2 days to claim it, she should open it and follow the instructions because harm had befallen her.  The third letter, which her friend had been instructed to deliver to the police, told them all they needed to know to bring it down hard on me.  As I’ve thought about her, and her sacrifice to stop me, I’ve been wondering if I’ve been on the right path all these years?  Have I truly been ridding the world of evil, or have I just been acting out on peoples’ whims and fancies and killing folks that may have been in a bad day?  Indecision has continued to run rampant through my mind, continues to beat my head against the imaginary walls I’ve built up around me.  The darkest feelings and emotions course their way through.  How did comfort pervade in this thing I’ve done when it shouldn’t have even been on the same planet?  My brain is falling silently to pieces, thinking about my entire lifetime of wasted potential, how it slipped away day by day.  As I pace in my living room, I catch my haunted reflection in a mirror, disgusted by what I see; I fling my hand into the glass, shattering it, sending the shards to the ground.  I can still see my reflection moving through the broken panes, it reflects a broken picture that very much resembles my cracked psyche.  When will I know, which life was true, which one was the dream, when I’ve lived so many?  I pray for the darkness, because the light has begun to scare me.  A glint of sunlight off of something moving has caught my eye.  As I watch the official looking car following the police car drive slowly to the house, my eyes rest on two things, the screen door, and the rifle leaning on the wall next to it, should I give in to one final urge? I’m a farmer, have been all my life, just so happens that sometimes I’ve had to farm the bad off of the world.  Some might say that ‘I’ am that bad, and that’s fine.  I guess that decision is out of my hands now, but I do know that I intend on dying right here on my own land.  Thanks for listening.