Ace - Diary of a Serial Killer

26th January, 2015

"You feel the last bit of breath leaving their body. You're looking into their eyes. A person in that situation is God!"

-Ted Bundy

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Dear diary,

Done and dusted today. What a high I feel. I had to keep in check to not drive over the speed limit for fear of being pulled over by the cops. I am finally home again, eager to describe my next escapade to all you greedy and guilty readers out there.

Wait, for publicity I've got to be nice.

So, scratch that - for all you lovely readers out there. Why would people even want to read this? Ah yes, to get a short lived rush with a few printed letters on a otherwise blank parchment. The incomplete facade of innocence yet the burning thrill of power.

For this week, I was unprepared. I had no idea who to go for next. I was over by the old dingy bar Downtown, hidden in the dark alley, awaiting the greasy haired man to appear with my weekly stash of marijuana. In the middle of the night, you could hear the pulsating music from the club right across the street and it held no importance to me until a man stumbled out, groping his abdomen before running across the street and puking into the garbage can nearby.

Well, well.

My fingers started twitching off their own accord, my heart beating faster, louder. Blood pumping through my veins. This was my chance. Quickly, before anyone would catch me, I walked over to the man, right behind him. His swaying and stumbling form nearly crumpled over before I could manage to get my gloves on.

Yes, I was always prepared.

Before he could fall, I brought my hands down in a cupping form right over his ears with a loud sound. Almost immediately, blood spluttered out - all over my hands and my face. I knew that the pressure was enough to burst his ear drums and cause severe internal bleeding but not enough to kill him so soon.

This has got to become my signature move.

Well aware of his barely conscious state, I decided to give my withering rush a slight boost.

Pulling out the pocket knife, I slowly cut him open from the groins to his chest. His clothes peeled off in layers and his skin along with it. His intestines came rushing out like worms.

Yes. This is what I'm talking about.

To give the media a good show, I quickly dipped my finger into the gash and pulled out some blood. I moaned at the metallic taste of the cold liquid against my lips. Smiling, I gave the blank wall my own graffiti.

A Pentagram.

For dramatic effect, of course.

After clearing up I cut right through his legs and hauled them up. I left the bloodied man in the alley, walking away with two perfect legs over my shoulder.

Funny how things work out alright, eh?

Until next time,

Ace.

A/N

Vote and comment please:)

Dedication to lamestuff for the pretty cover on the top/side! Thanks a ton :)

And thank you so much for getting Ace to a whooping #450 in horror!! Please help me maintain the rank by voting and commenting as much as you can:)

Word count: 472 words.