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Lisa M Tidrow

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The Girl
By Lisa M Tidrow
Friday, July 26, 2002



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A chiller/thriller which isn't finished yet. Let me know if you think I should finish it!

The Girl

She knew that she was dead, she just couldn’t figure out where she was. Everything was black. Could it be that there was no life after death? Could it be that after death there was nothing, just a void?
Then slowly she came to realize that she felt pain. As if waiting to be recognized the pain exploded until she cried out from the force of it. She tried to move and couldn’t. Slowly things were coming back to her.
She was at the grocery store, loading bags into her car. This man stopped to help her but he made her feel uncomfortable. He was big, about 6’4” and had a muscular frame. She remembered telling him that she could manage fine and as she turned her back she felt an excruciating blow to her head. That was all she could remember.
She concentrated and realized that she could hear sounds. A regular, rhythmic sound, which she recognized as, tires on a road. Suddenly it dawned on her that she must be in the trunk of someone’s car. Hers? His? Now she wished she were dead already. It had to be better than what was in store for her. Her heart was beating frantically and tears spilled down from her eyes and onto her cheeks. She tried to cry out but discovered that her mouth was covered by tape. More of her senses were coming back to her now; enough to feel that her arms and legs were bound with some type of rope.
She had no idea how long she had been out for. They could be anywhere. She just hoped that they wouldn’t reach their destination anytime soon. Better to be bound and gagged in the trunk forever than face the alternative.
She remembered that he must have been around 25 or so, a little older than her. He had black hair and normally she might have thought him attractive but his steely gray eyes changed her mind. There was a hardness to them, a coldness, which seemed to reach out and touch her, making her shiver. It was those eyes that made her refuse his help at the grocery store and it was those same eyes that terrified her now. They say that eyes are the windows to the soul. If that was the case then this guy surely had no soul, as the view into his eyes was bottomless.
She knew that she could expect no mercy from him. Again she started crying but after awhile she found it difficult to breathe. Her mouth was taped and her nose was now blocked. If she didn’t stop crying she was going to suffocate.

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I could hardly contain myself. Just sticking to the speed limit took all of my will power. Just thinking about the girl in the trunk made me feel omnipotent, like I could fly. I knew all about her, I had been following her for weeks now. I was always patient, always taking precautions, always waiting for the right moment.
From the minute I saw her I knew she was the chosen one. Once I walked past her on the street and purposefully brushed arms. Oh, the electricity that coursed through my body. The aroma of shampoo and soap that emanated from her aroused me. Her porcelain white skin was framed by her jet-black wavy hair. But both of these exquisite features took back seat to the brilliance of her piercing blue eyes. Tall and lanky, she walked with confidence. Oh, how much I will enjoy stripping that confidence from her piece by piece. This was real power and I wanted more.

I had read all the books, knew all the lingo. I knew the difference between an organized and a disorganized serial killer. I had alread determined that I was going to be an organized killer. I knew from my readings that they were harder to catch. Of course I knew I would be caught eventually, in fact, I craved it.
I was going to be famous and would therefore be immortal. The whole world would speak my name in awe. Even the chosen one would get to bask in the light of my glory.
I have planned this down to the smallest detail. I rented a house in the middle of nowhere, which was to serve as my killing ground. The owners are living in Europe and I took the added precaution of renting it under an assumed name.
I have chosen my prey carefully, although sometimes I think it is she who has chosen me. No one saw me take her and there is absolutely no connection between us. This will be the perfect crime.

I think I always knew that I was going to be different. I had so educated myself on the minds of psychopaths and their craft that I was even able to recognise myself as a psychopath. This was proof to me that I wasn't delusional. I took pride in the fact that in retrospect I showed the classic signs of a psychopath to be at a very young age.
I had perfected on animals what I was now going to perform on the chosen one. Without realizing it, all my life had been spent in training for this moment. By the time I was 12 I took charge, having had enough of that egotistical bastard that fate had thrust on me as my father. I had enough of his beatings and enough of my mother's drunken tears. I hated them both so much that it ate away at me.
That night, 12 years ago now, I set fire to the house after they were in a deep drunken slumber. I knew that it had to look convincing so I went back to my room and waited. I wasn’t really in any danger, the window was low and I could get out when I needed to. Finally when I was choking on smoke I smashed the window and jumped out. Just in time for a neighbor to see me. Of course I yelled and cried that my parents were still in the house but it was too late. Hah!
When people are as stupid as cattle, they deserve to be slaughtered like cattle. I had always known that my mind was razor sharp and that I was far more superior to anyone else I had ever come into contact with. From then on I was a ward of the state and spent my time learning from other deviants that I met along the way.

My headlights picked out the driveway and I slowly turned the car into the long winding path, savoring the anticipation that was building inside me. I gently stroked my hunting knife and thought about the things I would carve on that porcelain skin. I was sweating profusely and my hands trembled with excitement. I pulled up in front of the dark remote house and got out of the car. My body practically sung; it was so alive! This is how God must feel. I was hoping that she would scream and cry; if she didn’t then I’m sure that my blade would loosen her tongue. I took a deep breath, there was no hurry; after all I had all night. Slowly I walked to the trunk and turned the key in the lock.


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Reviewed by Amor Sabor 8/1/2002
I see no reason for you to stop this here...it is an excellent story with the twist spilled immediately in the entering of the deranged mind of the killer to be. You have enough particulars of great interest to branch the story out with many other aspects. Very well written!
Amor
Reviewed by Nickolaus Pacione 7/27/2002
you got something solid going here -- I like so far.

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