You put the 'hot' in psycHOTic

The pairing

Alex has always thought that he could get away with his crimes. He would, under other circumstances, but because another killer has been dumping their bodies increasingly closer to Alex's 'stomping ground' he becomes threatened. Kathleen Addison is leading an investigation into the two supposedly unrelated serial killers. Can the other killer work with Alex to get away from the authorities? Or will Alex be locked up like Lecter?

ALEX

I slowly pulled the knife out of my pocket. I savoured the fear and horror distorting the man's face as I thrust it through the left side of his neck. I could see the tip of my blade poking a little way out of the right side. He gagged, weakly scrabbling fingers against my hand, which was still wrapped around the wooden handle of the knife. His face was turning purple because the blood was restricting his breathing. Blood had spurted everywhere, trickling down his neck and shoulder. Glistening wetly in the dim light. It had splashed, purple-blue, onto my white mask and lower face. I inhaled the metallic, salty aroma and sighed. I licked my lips and enjoyed the pleasure that came with the strong taste of blood. Too much time had passed since my last proper meal. I pulled the knife out and the body flopped to the floor like a ragdoll. His nearly shoulder-length hair spread around and underneath his head like a pillow. I gave his arm a nudge with my foot, a few drops of blood staining the white tips of my black converse boots. I knelt down to check his vital signs, just to makes sure he was dead. I didn't want him to regain consciousness while I was harvesting meat. He wasn't breathing and his heart was still so I started hacking off chuncks of flesh and muscle. Then I sliced open his middle and treated myself to his heart and liver. After all, I had heard someone in a movie say that liver goes great with some fa-va beans and a nice chianti.

I've been killing since I was eighteen, known as the year of freedom. I suppose I would say that's true, after all, there were no parents around where and why I was going out so late. They were a three hours drive away, anyway. I've wanted to kill something, or rather someone for a really long time. When I finally did, I got a euphoria high that gave me the confidence to do something else I'd wanted to try. That something else was cannibalism. I had followed this guy home from a night class we shared at uni. I was in a night class because I'm rather nocturnal. He always walked the same way, and alone. The morning before my amazing first kill, I had stuffed a kitchen knife, for killing purposes, from my apartment, into my backpack. When we were in a particularly dark alley, I pulled the knife out and plunged it into the back of his neck. I was surprised by how little emotion I felt. There was only a sense of excitement. He flailed only a little, then lost consciousness. He died choking on his own blood. I felt as if I needed to take something from him, something to remind myslef that this was successful. A trophy of sorts. So I took some flesh, just a small chunk out of his upper arm. I remembered later that meat doesn't keep for long. I had put it in a sandwich bag that my lunch was in. I was rather fascinated by this simple red blob, sitting in a shallow puddle of deep red juice. I had stared at the body for quite a while, enjoying the view maybe. I don't really remember what I felt afterwards but I'm sure it wasn't guilt or remorse. After it dawned on me that the police would be on their way. I quickly made my way back to campus. I cooked the meat for dinner that night. I enjoyed it.

One might think that my roommate would be concerned about me going out, late at night, then coming home later with sandwich bags filled with meat. To be honest, I don't think she even notices when I'm there, let alone when I'm not. This is probably beacuase she's almost always stoned. Her name is Lana and her girlfriend comes over once a week. She's not on drugs though so I have to go without on Wednesdays.

I had recently gone on a trip to the US. I was hitchhiking around, visiting the most creepy and haunted places that were on offer. Then I visited Malibu, in California, just beacause I love the beach. After a long flight home, I couldn't wait to dig into the few scraps of meat I had in the freezer. I opened the door to the apartment for the first time in three weeks and the smell hit me like a slap in the face. The inside of the apartment was like walking into a stale cloud, I don't think Lana opened a single window while I was gone. I went through every room, opening all the windows in order to flush out the stink of stale smoke and takeaway. I went to the freezer, after dumping my bags in my room, only to find that it was cleared out. I couldn't get any meat while I was in America, so I needed to satisfy my craving. "I could really go for some liver" was my thought before I left.