The Mindf*ck Series

Chapter 3

𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥.
- 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘶𝘴

𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗔

Two cops are sitting outside my house, guarding me, keeping me safe from the Boogeyman. Yes, I hear how ridiculous that sounds as well.

I have an entire hidden room with tons of information and surveillance shots of all my next victims. That hidden room is where I am now, as two guys hang out in their cruiser, being all kinds of conspicuous.

Do they not know how to keep a low profile?

And their windows are down. Have they never seen a horror movie? Windows down equal throats slashed.

I’m watching through my own surveillance cameras from my murder room, since this room has no windows. The cameras are only on the outside, and I put them up today for the purpose of keeping an eye on the cops.

Logan is pissing me off, not listening to reason. I don’t want cops here. Cops hinder my plan. Not that I can tell him that. He’s determined to keep me safe. I’m determined to slice and dice a serial killer who may or may not get spooked by the blues outside.

I also check out the monitor that is watching Anthony. My next victim. I’ve only been able to get two of my cameras installed so far. I’m going closer to home for him. It’s getting close to sprint time. I’ll have to get creative to continue torturing once I reach that sick, twisted town. The FBI will be all over me.

And my boyfriend has the cops watching my house. The house where I have all my murder supplies that I have to use. Cops that follow me to the store when I get milk. Obviously they can’t follow me and guard my kill zone for days on end while I torture people.

Stupid Boogeyman.

I wish I could castrate him. I wish I could dole out the true justice deserved by the ones he’s hurt. But I have to make it look like a stroke of luck.

Sighing, I head out of the secret room, move the empty bookcase back where it belongs to cover the hidden door. Then I lock the door to the actual room, concealing the room inside a room.

It’s all cloak and dagger right now. That’s what happens when you’re a serial killer dating a FBI profiler who hunts serial killers.

Somehow, my simple life got very complicated.

After about thirty minutes, I see a familiar SUV pull up, and I grin when Logan steps out, talking to the policeman nearest to the house. What I don’t like is the fact he has a guy and a girl with him. Because that means he’s not staying.

Walking out the front door, I measure the two unknowns, regarding them. The guy smiles genuinely at me, even offering me a small wave so much less awkward than the wave I gave Logan once upon a time.

The girl, however, doesn’t look too happy with what she sees. At least I’m wearing pants. I decided until the Boogeyman is gone, pants are a good idea.

Apparently all the girls on his team seem to have an issue with me, especially since this is the second one I’ve met and she’s regarding me with a scowl. Don’t these women know that it’s dangerous to piss off a highly
trained killer?