Gallimaufry

Writing Prompt: Confessions of a Serial Killer

Author's Note: Strong Violence in this one

Tick  tock. 

The clicking of the second hand of the clock teases me, taunting me with the passage of time as I wait impatiently for the one I have chosen.  It has been so long since I've seen her, but I've memorized everything about her, until I can close my eyes and imagine she was standing in front of me. 

The way she smiled at me the first day we met, I honestly feel like she was the one who chose me and not the other way around. A couple words and she was laughing along with me as I helped her down the road to her apartment. I held the door, carried the heavy bags, chatted inanely as we moved from street to building and then up the stairs. 

Four floors, left turn down the hallway. Camera is pointed in the wrong direction and her neighbours both work night shifts. The people below her play loud music through all hours, making it impossible for anyone down there to hear her as well. 

Tick Tock. 

She was on a date with a couple friends this evening, I watched her get into a new car and drive off. She wasn't dressed like I wanted her to be dressed for me.  Unexpected, but I can deal with changes to my plans. The door was weak, and the lock sticks, so it didn't fall as it should into place. It was relatively easy to get into her apartment and walk down the empty hallway that smelled of her. 

The kitchen light is on and a glance within reveals that she's already finished a bottle of wine. I wonder if my love will be returning tonight. I try to remember if I saw her stumble as she walked, trying to build a new idea of what it will look like when I see her again. I've been watching her for weeks but I mean see her.  Experience everything about her, from her scent to the way her heart beats against by skin. 

I  have time to work through the thought in my head as I move through her inner sanctum, seeing her room scattered with various clothing choices she had turned down. My hands twitch as I fight the urge to clean up the room. There is so much chaos here, it taunts me. Life is so chaotic, I need control. I need order. 

Tick tock. 

It doesn't matter how many of those damned clocks that I destroy, the passing of seconds is always in my mind, racing the beat of my heart and mocking me for my inability to find the perfect match. Tonight, tonight she will be perfect. I have rehearsed this, I have practiced and prepared.  It will be a culmination of all my efforts. 

Darkness grows and time passes as I stand in the shadows of her room, absorbing what it means to be surrounded  by her life. My pulse quickens as I realize that the hour that bars close has passed. Surely she'll be home soon. I flex my fingers in the leather gloves I am wearing, feeling the supple material creak with the movement. 

Tic-clunk. 

Laughter fills the hallway as the door opens and lights are flicked on. I can hear her heels stumble across the tile of the entry way. 

"Do you want a drink or something?" 

"Something." a male voice is there, and I freeze, fury ripping through my veins as I listen to them continue murmuring and moving deeper into her home. There's the sound of shoes clattering on the ground, more laughter and two people stumbling into the living room. 

Quiet as a mouse, I slip from her room and shift through the shadows. I've memorized the layout of her home, I could walk it with my eyes closed. 

I wish they were closed. She had been perfect. Pure. Exactly how I wanted her to be. But she has allowed this slob. This imperfect specimen; his scrawny arms and thinning hair, the ruddy skin and soft body, it's ruining her. 

I watch them fumble with their clothing, anger continuing to build. This wasn't what I planned. She isn't who I needed her to be. 

Tick tock. 

The clock is laughing at me as I watch her duck her head. I cross the room silently and slide the perfect blade of my knife exactly where it needs to go, showering her in a torrent of his blood. I take a step back, shifting around as he stumbles backwards, tripping on his pants and crashing through the table with a gurgle.

Below us, the music is loud enough to make the floor vibrate. 

Still, the lust of the clock chiming in my head pushes me onwards and I grab her by the throat before she can make a noise. I hear her little gasping breaths as I push her back into the couch, feeling the frantic beat of her heart against my fingers. I squeeze harder as I wipe the blood from my knife onto the skin of her arm.

Her eyes go dim, her heart stutters to a stop. And it is done. 

Standing, I look between the two of them, then merely wrap her fingers around my knife. I was a nice knife, but I haven't touched it without gloves and I can always buy another. I never bring anything that means a great deal to me when I go to meet the one I choose. 

I turn and slip out of the apartment silently, shifting to the side of the hallway that isn't watched by the camera after pulling the apartment door shut. Down the stairs and out the back door, slipping into the alley way that leads deeper into the city. I wander until the sun rises a few hours later, my body still too awake to seek out home and fall asleep. 

Tick Tock. 

Only the clock knows that I did not reach perfection tonight. 

Tick tock. 

It pushes me onwards.