Never talk to strangers thats what she had been taught for as long as she could remember never go off with a strange man alone, these lesson stung her like needles as she sat chained in the cold basement room waiting for what she could not even begin to comprehend all those stories of serial killers and their victims flooded her mind was she to be one of those carved up and feasted upon her head found in some refrigerator a month latter?
Footsteps slow and steady could be heard from the room above and the soft cresendo of Bethovens fifth being played on what sounded like an old phonograph
sick bastard she thought if you are going to kill me do it now! how had she got here she had always been so careful always so very careful.
At last the music stopped and the foot steps could be heard approching the basement stairs quietly and figure appeared in the door way a tall slender man with ashen features and eyes that seemed to move as though they had a mind of their own his, delecate hands grasped the hand rail his feet barely making a sound upon the old wooden stairs finally he entered the room and in the pale light she saw him pale and wide eyed and strangely enough smiling
"A pleseant evening my dear I trust my appearence is not overly disturbing as to ruin our evening together
comfortable? perhaps a bit more light Or perhaps you would prefer that I remove the chains well my dear the light i can provide however the chains must remain it is all part of your penence you see all your life you have been shakled with the chains of sin and corruption I have only made there presence a reality for you I suppose your next question will be are you going to kill me?
The answer to that question is yes however the true question which I am sure your mind has been mulling over these last few moments is how I will go about murdering you and what pleasure I will derive from it is this not correct?
The answer to that question is that I will not murder you for I do not derive any real pleasure from killing thus making me an artist rather than a butcher personally I would be quite content to let you continue living until you die in some home of the forgotten aged and gripping to dead dreams
My employer wishes justice brought upon you and has realized that my form of justice is the only final and true form in existance I learned many years ago that justice is not what is right but what is just you have commited crimes you must be punished it is simple really is it not
now then I am going to have to ask you to lay back a little more thats it...ok now scream if this hurts
he made small incisions into her skin each no bigger than a paper cut she wanted to scream wanted to cry for help but it was useless he then proceeded to produce a small battery and electrical cables slowly he hooked them to each of the incisions
he turned up the voltage the room flickered this is not how she had imagened her life ending but one thing proved true at death she did indeed see the light and this brought a burnt blackend smile to her face.