would be my dream job, and I considered asking whether dental was included. Hey, I’m allowed a sense of humor too.
Dressed in jeans, a white blouse, and a pair of pink furry slippers, she was a little too cutesy for my liking, and in fact if you asked me, the getup was a little strange for a terrorist. I didn’t know that many terrorists at this point, and so I really had nothing to compare against.
She was completely unaware when I entered her somewhat lavish home the following Friday evening. The house had two stories, with the master and guest bedrooms and bathrooms on the upper floor, and living room and kitchen on the ground floor. I had figured out the basic layout using a little reasoning and window counting. Talk about luck!
That night turned out to be an ideal night for the event, not only because of the lack of visitors but because a storm hit the likes of which had not been seen since the days of the Ark. The weather really set the mood for the night and would thankfully mask the sins committed with thunderous claps and blinding lightning. With no sane person out that night, from outside in the wind and rain I watched her through a narrow gap in the living room curtains without fear of discovery. I wore a long black waterproof hooded jacket; its surface looked as slick as oil as it glistened in the rain.
Thunder and lightning surrounded me in the dark, and from time to time, as lightning struck I could see my shadow projected on the patio doors. Had she seen me? I was concerned for only a moment that she might have seen my shadow. I watched her closely, but she gave no indication that she had seen me. She got up from the couch and, taking a wineglass with her, she headed first to the adjoining hallway, then onward into the kitchen. When she had completely disappeared from view, I knew it was time to make my move. I was about to break the glass panel in the door but stopped and considered testing the door handle first and couldn’t believe my luck: it was unlocked. Oh boy, this was too good to be true!
It was in the kitchen that I found her with her back toward me, refilling her wineglass. I was soaked in rainwater and dripping all over the white-tiled floor, and even though the thunderclaps concealed my approach, I was still surprised that she did not hear me as I came up behind her. She let out a yelp and sent the glass flying across the room when she reacted instinctively, bringing up her arms and hands in an attempt to fend off my attack. Fast though she was, she was still too slow to prevent me from placing my arm around her neck and locking it with my left arm while I squeezed and put pressure on the back of her head with my left hand. Fighting to free herself from my grip like some coked-up cat, she kicked and scratched at me, but luckily my jacket managed to protect me from her assault. With her neck locked under pressure, the blood flow to her brain was reduced to a trickle, and within only a few more seconds she became unconscious. I had prepared a chloroform-soaked cloth and now drew it from the protective plastic ziplock bag. Placing the cloth over her nose and mouth, I pressed for some thirty seconds, ensuring that she would remain asleep just long enough to allow for me to prepare her for her death.
From the kitchen knife rack I removed a large cleaver and three very sharp knives. I also found a plastic trash bag from under the sink and took the items upstairs to the bathroom. I turned on the light and placed them in the washbasin and began to run a hot bath. As it filled, I decided to have a quick look around the upper floor. That turned out to be a complete waste of time. There was nothing of interest and my search proved to accomplish nothing more than confirm she was indeed alone at home.
I went back downstairs to the kitchen and picked up Ms. X. Putting her over my shoulder, I took her upstairs to the bathroom and remember thanking any god that might be listening that she had kept
Dressed in jeans, a white blouse, and a pair of pink furry slippers, she was a little too cutesy for my liking, and in fact if you asked me, the getup was a little strange for a terrorist. I didn’t know that many terrorists at this point, and so I really had nothing to compare against.
She was completely unaware when I entered her somewhat lavish home the following Friday evening. The house had two stories, with the master and guest bedrooms and bathrooms on the upper floor, and living room and kitchen on the ground floor. I had figured out the basic layout using a little reasoning and window counting. Talk about luck!
That night turned out to be an ideal night for the event, not only because of the lack of visitors but because a storm hit the likes of which had not been seen since the days of the Ark. The weather really set the mood for the night and would thankfully mask the sins committed with thunderous claps and blinding lightning. With no sane person out that night, from outside in the wind and rain I watched her through a narrow gap in the living room curtains without fear of discovery. I wore a long black waterproof hooded jacket; its surface looked as slick as oil as it glistened in the rain.
Thunder and lightning surrounded me in the dark, and from time to time, as lightning struck I could see my shadow projected on the patio doors. Had she seen me? I was concerned for only a moment that she might have seen my shadow. I watched her closely, but she gave no indication that she had seen me. She got up from the couch and, taking a wineglass with her, she headed first to the adjoining hallway, then onward into the kitchen. When she had completely disappeared from view, I knew it was time to make my move. I was about to break the glass panel in the door but stopped and considered testing the door handle first and couldn’t believe my luck: it was unlocked. Oh boy, this was too good to be true!
It was in the kitchen that I found her with her back toward me, refilling her wineglass. I was soaked in rainwater and dripping all over the white-tiled floor, and even though the thunderclaps concealed my approach, I was still surprised that she did not hear me as I came up behind her. She let out a yelp and sent the glass flying across the room when she reacted instinctively, bringing up her arms and hands in an attempt to fend off my attack. Fast though she was, she was still too slow to prevent me from placing my arm around her neck and locking it with my left arm while I squeezed and put pressure on the back of her head with my left hand. Fighting to free herself from my grip like some coked-up cat, she kicked and scratched at me, but luckily my jacket managed to protect me from her assault. With her neck locked under pressure, the blood flow to her brain was reduced to a trickle, and within only a few more seconds she became unconscious. I had prepared a chloroform-soaked cloth and now drew it from the protective plastic ziplock bag. Placing the cloth over her nose and mouth, I pressed for some thirty seconds, ensuring that she would remain asleep just long enough to allow for me to prepare her for her death.
From the kitchen knife rack I removed a large cleaver and three very sharp knives. I also found a plastic trash bag from under the sink and took the items upstairs to the bathroom. I turned on the light and placed them in the washbasin and began to run a hot bath. As it filled, I decided to have a quick look around the upper floor. That turned out to be a complete waste of time. There was nothing of interest and my search proved to accomplish nothing more than confirm she was indeed alone at home.
I went back downstairs to the kitchen and picked up Ms. X. Putting her over my shoulder, I took her upstairs to the bathroom and remember thanking any god that might be listening that she had kept
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