“Some people kill, as others change their underwear. Everyday, every second day, once a week, maybe even only once a month. It's different from person to person, murderer to murderer. Some people doesn't even know they're killing, some people has a disease or a mental disorder, that makes them forget. But that doesn't mean that the mental ill murderer, isn't a murderer. Some say that they get possessed at night, by an evil spirit or even the devil himself, which make he or she kill. But are there anyone, who are willing to actually admit, that they're doing it on purpose? Or would they just give a lie, about how they're possessed, or how they have this kind of amnesia.
Maybe someone who's enjoying it so much, that they want to tell others about it, would actually admit it.
This is where Service takes part. Service is an online society page, about telling others your horrifying truth. Not because it was made for this purpose. Actually, Service was made by an 18 year old boy, for a school project. He got an A, because of his awesome layout and excellent but unreal purpose of the page. A couple of years later a 27 year old man, discovered this page. Which was a mistake, because the boy was supposed to delete it after his grade. But he hadn't.
So this man made a profile, then a new one joined the page, which ended up in hundreds of profiles. Now that the page was used, pretty much all the time, it got more and more popular. None of the users are actually using their own name, that would be stupid. They're all coming up with a cover, or some silly, perverted or insulting username.
None of the users ever met each other, most of them don't even chat. They only start forums, telling people about their methods, and how they work out from time to time. But they wouldn't know if they've met one, would they? Kind of like how your neighbor could be a killer, but you wouldn't know about it, would you? Except if you found out if course. Haven't you heard of that girl who dated a boy, but didn't know that he was the murderer of her parents, who died a couple of years before. She and her boyfriend had been together for years, before she finally found out in the hardest way possible. She loved him, and he loved her. But then she hated him, and he still loved her. But then she killed herself, because of the thought of have had sex with the person with her parents blood on his hands, and he still loved her. No one ever found out why he killed her parents, only her. I obviously made that one up, but you get my point right?
This is where my story begins, and it begins with a twist of a crime. Because the night all of this started, someone sat fire to my parents' house. Luckily I don't live at home anymore, and my parents were out of town, so that's good. I've been keeping an eye on that page, Service, for a while now, and the forums are brutal. Why would you call the page Service? That's stupid...”
Astor paused for a second, just to think about the next sentence. She had been writing this online blog for a year now, and first now told people of her discovery of Service. She turned off her laptop and took a sip of her drink. Strawberry Daiguiri with lemon juice instead of lime had always been her favorite. “Isn't that a summer drink?” A mild manly voice asked, as she was about to close her computer and put it into her bag. “Well, it's summer, the weather just doesn't agree.” She answered smiling at the man, which suddenly was sitting at the bar. It was true, it had been raining for days, though it was in the middle of July. This town hadn't had a sunny day for at least 30 years. He was tall, if you take it from Astor's point of view. Maybe about 6'1”. His hair was curly and brown, and his eyes was blue with a little bit of green to them. He had this really beautiful smile, that you not always see on proud men like him. “Look, I don't normally do this, but you seem very interesting.” He said as he moved closer, with his beer in his hand, moving his chair with the other. She put the computer into her bag, as she meant to do just before. She nodded and smiled ironically, just before taking one more sip of her drink. “I was about to leave, actually..” She said in an annoyed way that would crush another mans heart, but not his. “You may want to consider staying, we wouldn't want you, to gain weight from that pizza, you'll go home and order.” He said just before ordering one more beer and a strawberry daiguiri, with lemon juice instead of lime. “You've been reading my...” She said, pausing to sink the lump in her throat. “...blog?” She couldn't believe how he had found her, that blog was extremely anonymous. “Actually I just walked in and saw the page you were writing on, and recognized it.” He gave the strawberry daiguiri to her, and took a sip of his own beer. “I'm Keegan, and you are?” The man sitting in front of her asked, with a sudden identification. “Irish? You're not so little.. I'm Astor.” She said, proud of her knowledge with name meanings. “And you're not a Hawk..” He answered, winked and then smiled at her. She took the last sip of her drink, before starting on the one he ordered for her. “I've never seen you before... Where are you from?” Astor asked. He didn't answer, which she didn't take as a surprise. Astor wasn't the best conversation starter. He just kept on staring at her, like if he was a nonfunctional robot. “Sorry, you're not gonna answer, are you? I know, I'm not good at conversation.” She said shamefully. It's just so weird, sitting in front of someone you don't know, having to start a conversation. “You shouldn't apologize for that, I took the initiative, I should be leading this.” He said, laughing bit. “I'm from here.. Basketville, you've probably just never noticed me..” He smiled. “You seem kind, but I really have to leave now..” She put on her denim jacket, took her bag with her computer in it. “Thank you for the drink.” Keegan walked after her, as she hurried out the door. She was about 10 feet in front of him. “Wait, stop, I really want to get to know you” He shouted after her, causing her to stop and turn around. “It's not fair, you've read my blog, you know everything about me. You're acting like as if, I also knew everything about you. But I don't, so stop acting like it, I've known you for 15 minutes.” She turned back around, and continued walking away. “But I want you to get to know me too, that's actually also the only reason I read your blog. All that girl stuff, I don't even care about all that. I've fallen in love with that one anonymous writer, who no one would ever find out who was, and now I've found out. Haven't you seen all those pages, about people trying to find out who you are, guessing on your looks and lifestyle? No one ever suggested that you would have such beautiful brown eyes, and such beautiful brown hair.” He said to her, causing her to turn around and walk back to him. “Now you just sound like some stupid fan, begging for something. That's patheti-” He kissed her on the lips, while nuzzling her neck with his hand, having the other around her waist. She stopped and smiled, then continued kissing him. They walked back into the bar, further into an office behind the actual bar. He closed the door and took of his jacket, still continuing to kiss her deeply. Then he put his hand on her jaw and the other on the back of her head, then he broke her neck and that was it. That's how stupid, ego girls sometimes just end up. Yeah, I of course hacked into her laptop and copied that blog part into my forum. I'm actually writing this from her computer. She didn't know I own the bar, she didn't know I knew her through Service. How stupid are you, using the same username for both your blog, and stalking profile. Of course I haven't read the blog.
