I see her.

I want her.

She is my chosen one. It just seems too easy. I glanced over at the young college student waving her thumb throughout the air, hoping to catch someone's attention.

She caught mine.

I have to struggle to keep my composure as I slow down my silver Honda Accord. Window rolling down, she rests her hand on the door, "Hi there." She was terribly appetizing, especially since I knew what was going to happen to her, I was yearning with anticipation.

"Do you need help miss? A ride somewhere?" I gave her my friendly, charitable smile. I knew it was just too easy to win her over.

Women, they're all too similar.

"Well, I am in need of some help. I really just need a ride to the nearest town…or city…or civilization…" She smirked coolly trying to actually impress me. "I mean it's just there is nothing out here."

"Of course you can come along, anything for a sweet young lady." This would definitely be simple, she just looked so dense. I unlocked my door and she climbed in the immaculate passenger seat. I sped off and she buckled her life belt.

After a moment of silence the foolish girl turned towards me, clearly evaluating me, "You know, you don't have to call me 'young lady', I am twenty years old and I am currently back-packing around the U.S." Was she really trying to impress me with her spontaneity? What an idiot…as if I could ever fall for that.

I laughed warmly, "Okay then, no 'young lady'. What do you prefer to be called?"

"Christine, how about you friendly stranger?" She even had the audacity to lean towards me, exposing her fake-tanned cleavage and cheap lingerie. I looked at the street signs as we got off the exit to my workshop, counting how many cars passed by. "Well…," she insisted, "What's your name?"

I could feel my heart fluttering with adrenaline; I knew it was time to act. I reached into the compartment on the side of my door and held the small object between my fingers, gently placing it by the side of my leg unnoticeably. "My name?" I grabbed the needle, holding it firmly by my side, still inconspicuous. "My name is Beyond, Beyond Birthday." I waited for the giggles I knew would come as I fondled the needle between my fingers.

"Ha, that is such a…weird name? What kind of name is that?" She threw her head back in playful laughter then turned toward me, expecting an answer.

"It's the kind of name you will never forget." I slammed on my brakes sending helpless Christine forward, her life belt scratching her neck as it protested back. I acted quickly, piercing the side of her neck with the needle. I breathed in the sweetest air as I witnessed her face contort with pain and confusion, I almost wanted to cry I was so full of ecstasy.

I coveted her.

She came to me.

I gave her my blessing.

I drove off the main road onto my secluded path to the warehouse. I looked at the refined landscape surrounding me. The trees turned their most delicate shade of amber as the wind caressed their fallen children. It was truly alluring. But nothing could be as beautiful or as poetic as this girl's fate. I parked my car inside the garage and sealed off the door. I ran around to the other side of my car and picked up the bimbo. You know, she probably would be pretty if she didn't wear two bras and thick globs of make-up.

I like the warehouse, it was nice and cozy. It was simple; it consisted mostly of concrete with the occasional stain. I walked into the examining room and laid my specimen on the slab. This burning sensation wouldn't end until I had my way with her. I left her on the table and cuffed her wrists and ankles to the floor, she is not going anywhere. I walked into the next room which had a single stainless steel refrigerator that juxtaposed with the rather dirty cement walls. I grabbed a jar of strawberry jelly and started devouring it, my one obsession. The only thing in the world that was sweet to me. I sat on the edge of the slab; I knew she would be waking up soon. As I lapped up the jam escaping the edges of the glass jar I felt my mind slipping away as I stared off into space.

Shlinggg.

I snapped out of my trance and Christine woke up. I turned away from her placing the jelly down, waiting it. Like clockwork, the screams pierced through the walls sending shivers of satisfaction down my vertebrae. I pivoted around and stalked closer to her as the pleading started, as to be expected.

"Stop! STOP! Wh-what are you doing? What the fuck! Don't you come near me!" She yelled the top of her apparently high pitched lungs.

So we have a screamer.

I wonder what her head would look like on a stick.

It is just something to consider…

I grabbed her jaw in between my hands and I looked into her mascara stained face, "Christine, I'm not doing this to you as much as I am doing this for me." And I smiled honestly to try and console her; after all I'm not heartless.

I just know what I want.

Apparently she thought she was in control because the bitch actually had the nerve to spit on me. No matter, I let her soak in her glory for a brief moment. I clenched her jaw with a singular hand as the other wiped my face from her revolting slobber. It really pisses me off when people just don't cooperate.

I hate it.

She stimulated my need to slaughter her.

My hand still secured on her face clung to her skin as I tried to rip a bit of her face off, which was the least of her worries. I nail dug deep enough to break the skin as blood started flowing out.

Red paint on a tanned canvas.

It looks like jelly…

As my face neared the crook of her neck, I felt her salty tears fall on my cheek. As my tongue glazed over the hemoglobin my heart expedited, it tasted of iron and strawberries. I closed my eyes as the feeling flowed through all my nerves, a beautiful buzz. Christine squirmed in protest, trying to push me away. I tangled my hand into her greasy hair as I continued to consume the latest streams of fresh plasma. I pulled my head back at a tormenting slow pace as the girl desperately attempted to kick me. I walked into the singular, small bathroom to wash my hands. It was only when I glanced on the mirror I saw they blood dripping from my mouth, staining my neck, as it penetrated my white shirt. I saw a beautiful man in the mirror. A tall, pale, slender man stared back at me with ravenous crimson eyes. Fuck, he was exquisite.

As I went back to Christine, I continued to the far left corner of the room that had my box. I reached in and pulled out a box cutter, a weapon ideal for quick incisions or just opening a package as well. I pulled a chair next to the screamer and examined her before making a move. "Take of your clothes." She looked at me, her face scrunched up in confusion. How ugly.

"Did you not hear me?" She winced as she let her hands fall from her destroyed cheek to attempt and remove her clothes.

Not. Fast. Enough.

I smacked her hands away and peeled of her top layer of clothing for her. Oh how she struggled. It almost made me smile, her motivation, but it was pointless for her. This would end her chatter sure enough. I stretched out her top lip and started carving away.

Rip. Rip. Rip.

As to be expected, the screamer tried her hardest to slip away from my grasp as she screamed in ultimate pain. I ignored her idiotic pleads and continued scraping away at her lip that was now hanging off. Strawberry jam flowed out from her face, staining my hands as I worked. Once the top lip was completely detached I threw it on the floor. Any moment now I expect her to pass out from blood loss but she clung to her consciousness. I started picking at her bottom lip, when I saw her eyes dazing in and out of focus.

I washed my hands off in the deep basin and patted my hands dry on my worn out jeans. I headed back towards the room that contained Christine; it was uncharacteristically quiet. As I stepped over the threshold to her chamber, I grew hot with anger. Christine had bit her tongue off. The pink organ dangled by a thread. Fucking bitch. She ruined all of the fun.

I wanted to see the light leave her eyes.

Now all I see if a stiffened corpse. I walked over to my supply closet and brought out the bag. The bag contained all of my favorite weapons of choice, and for this occasion, I brought out the box cutter. Looking at her mangled face made me smile; I wanted her body to be in the same state. I started removing the rest her clothes quickly and swiftly. I couldn't help but laugh at her undergarments of choice. What the hell did she need lingerie for? She must be some kind of street walker. I delicately peeled off her weird, lacey corset thing and pulled off her underwear. I held the box cutter in my left hand as I skimmed the surface of her skin with my right looking for a good spot. I decided to start on her left hip bone. I made small incisions, carving a tattoo I really think she would appreciate.

PROPERTY OF BB.

Voila, her own customized tramp stamp. After amusing myself for a moment, I started to really get into my work drawing, carving, cleaving her skin. She was the perfect canvas for my artistic fix of the moment. After covering most of her torso, I decided to dig deeper. I went back to the bag and brought out the butcher knife. I started at the top of her sternum and gently traced down to the top of her pelvis. The lightest penetration made her blood rush out, spoiling my work. I traced over my first line again, this time with greater force precisely breaking the tough skin. My final lacerations were two small diagonal lines at the tips of the starting points, looking similar to arrows pointing in opposite directions. I folded the flaps of skin back and exposed her internal organs.

It was more breath taking than to ever be imagined.

Like a child at Christmas, I grabbed the first organ I could find and clutched it in my hand. It was warm and moist, like a water balloon filled with warm water but a thicker skin. This had to be the stomach. As I further examined, I saw all of her organs tangled with each other. I even examined her reproductive organs, which were incredibly small. Then I noticed something rather odd.

When I cut open her uterus, I discovered something peculiar. I stared in disbelief at the treasure once concealed in the tiny organ. There was a fetus in it; without a doubt deceased now from lack of oxygen. I paused, not completely understanding what exactly just happened. I had killed a mother and her unborn child.

I was truly exceptional.

I continued dissecting for hours when the alarm on my phone went off.

Verdammt… It was time to retreat back to my conventional home. I sealed the bodies in a thick black body bag and stowed it on a hanger. I cleaned up the warehouse, pulled on a long black jacket to conceal my stained clothes, and sped off into the night.

About half an hour later I arrived in my middle class apartment complex. I climbed up four flights of stairs and opened door 804. I locked the door and flicked on the lights. I pulled off my jacket and the rest of my clothes as well; my boxers were all that remained. After walking aimlessly in and out of each room I ended up back in the kitchen.

Mmm…I really want some jelly.

I walked over to the identical stainless steel fridge that contained two things: strawberry jam, and Ramunè. I grabbed a jar of jam and sat at the table, my feet balancing me on the chair, sitting in a squatting like position and my hand grabbed globs of jelly.

I love jelly.