Thread: Internet Killers [	Mr Quixotic & Dovakitten]

RE Internet Killers Very Dark Content The man was hungry. After sending his message, he warmed up a microwave meal, and returned to the living room, with that and a Pepsi. After rape, torture and murder, sugary soda's were his main vice, and he usually didn't drink alcohol. Not alone anyway, he'd been to known to consume a few beers on those rare occasions he socialised with his peers, and the odd glass of wine when he dined with his parents. Which reminded him, he was due to pay them a visit. They lived in the same city, and his mother had been constantly pestering him to pop around for dinner, and asking when he was going to find a nice girl, settle down and get married. The man had been in a few relationships, but they didn't last long - the sex was too rough - and his mom had blamed the women. What was wrong with them, you're handsome, intelligent, and have an important, well-paying job you're a great catch. Sometimes parents really didn't know their children. Next time, he might take Analise. That thought made him chuckle as he plopped on his sofa and flicked on the television. She hadn't been forgotten, but his favourite sitcom was showing, and he'd had a long couple of days. He needed to switch off for a few minutes. Once done with the show and his appetite was satsfied, the man dropped the dishes into the sink, empty soda can in the trash, and returned to his desk. He'd heard the ping of a message arriving during one of the commercial breaks, and could only assume it was from Analise. What would she have to say this time? His brow furrowed, and lips pursed as he read it. Then read it again. And again. The man's expression became pensive and, without realising he'd done it, one hand had curled into a fist. She was a snooty fucking bitch, and appeared to be deliberately goading. He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and sat back in his chair. Anyone who watched would have thought him asleep, or meditating, as his entire body stilled, and he mulled over everything that had happened. Was Analise toying with him, as he was with her? Was she truly not frightened in the least? That couldn't be true. If she hadn't told the police about the ring, what had she told them, and would the authorities be waiting inside if he called around, and knocked on her door? Most of all he wondered if she'd meant what she said in regards to not being scared of death, and if she'd genuinely be willing to meet He also contemplated his own motivations. Why did he care, what did he, himself, want? The man found the answer to those questions difficult to come by, but what he did know was that the idea of Analise - a woman -, watching, encouraging and possibly participating, as he raped and tortured another, excited him. Was she right, did he want a friend, a like-minded soul he could talk to, and share with? Or did he just want to showcase his talents? Regardless of the answer, which still wasn't clear, by the time he'd re-opened his eyes, he'd framed his response to Analise in his head, and felt more relaxed. He couldn't envisage that she'd have spilled all to the police - not from the comment she'd made about how beautiful Whitney had looked, and the request for a meet, along with the fact she'd appeared engrossed at the vision of her friends corpse, and had taken it upon herself to remove the severed finger from the scene. If he was wrong, and she had? That would make things even more exciting than they already were. Subject Piq Squeals Message I'm a curious man. You just made me laugh - yes, I can laugh, Analise. I don't believe a word that you wrote. I heard the fake scream from your very good friends back yard, and I saw the way you inspected her corpse, as if you were a kiddie unable to hide the excitement on her first excursion to the Zoo. It was written all over your face. Your performance may have fooled others, but it didn't fool me. Believe me, I, of all people, know when a woman is broken, and a scream is real. However, I promise to be more careful next time, and not leave anything incriminating behind. I was in a rush..... scared of alerting the neighbours, you know? Whitney did look beautiful, I must agree. Probably for the first time in her life. Death is nothing to be afraid of, it's the process of dying that hurts. Do you have any idea of how close I was yesterday. Did you feel my eyes upon you? I could have taken your life before you were able to blink, if I were that way inclined. Why didn't I? Well, hookers, teenage runaways, and overweight housewives don't present much of a challenge. You, however, are different. What's the kill, without the hunt? On the other hand, I may be looking for a friend - even a man such as me becomes lonely sometimes, Analise Don't be sad. I'm unsure of the answer myself. I'm enjoying the game, but if I'm so tedious to you, why answer at all, or suggest we meet? Is it me you're trying to convince, or yourself? I'm the game-master, you are merely a piece on the board. It ends when I decide it ends. Not you. If you truly want to meet, then let us do so. Midday, the day after tomorrow. Central Station. Platform Three. Bring the ring, no Police. I'll be watching. Until then Analise. If you dare. If not, I'll be seeing you another time. PS We should spend that week together. Your place or mine, or shall we take a road-trip? Message sent. The man sat back, and exhaled the breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. A lot of what he'd written was guesswork, and all he could hope was that he'd hit the nail on the head, at least partly. Adrenaline surged through his body, in anticipation of the possibilities, and also at the fear which lurked at the back of his mind, that he might be making a terrible mistake. Though that wasn't a major concern. He was smart, and would just need to ensure all his bases were covered.