Chapter Eleven

You wake up the next morning. Angelica stayed the night last night. You spent the night watching movies, eating pizza, and making love. You dreaded going to work. You would rather stay home with your beautiful girlfriend.

Getting out of bed, you get dressed, move to the kitchen, and make a breakfast of yogurt, toast, and coffee. Flipping on TV, you listen to the news and laugh to yourself.

The town is terrified. You listen to the news reporter begging anyone with information to come forward. Like that's going to happen. You laugh.

"What's so funny?" You hear Angelica enter the kitchen.

Shit, what is so funny? You look around frantically. Your eyes land on Halo, chasing her tail.

"The dog," you point out.

"Oh." Angelica laughs too.

Damn, the dog saved my ass.

You kiss her goodbye and walk out the door. Moving to the mail truck, you scan the neighborhood. Everyone seemed less talkative or on edge, and they kept to themselves more than usual. This is great.

Getting in the mail truck, you speed from the driveway. As usual, you cram the box with letters at your first stop and then the next. And next until your route is finished.

Somehow, you find yourself parked outside of a salon. You watch people walk in and out. Your eyes constantly search for your next victim. And finally, you see her. A beautiful girl. Blonde hair, blue eyes, your typical beautiful girl.

She gets into her convertible car and drives away. You decided to follow her. There are too many witnesses at this location, and you know that. You don't follow her closely, as if you don't want to scare her. You keep your distance behind her.

After many miles, you see her pull into a driveway. A little cabin in the middle of nowhere surrounded by woods. This is a serial killer's dream.

Looking down, you see the brick from yesterday. You smile. Grabbing it with your hand, you get out of the mail truck. You hid the brick behind your back.

"Hello ma'am?" you say, approaching her.

She looks a little scared. This excites you. You feel adrenaline racing through your body.

"Yes," she asks shyly.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, I am lost. Can you give me directions into town?"

"Oh, yes, no problem," she nods.

"Thank you so much."

"They're kind of complicated. Would you like me to write them down?" She asks.

"Yes, please."

"I know, I have paper and a pen in this car," she says, turning around.

She turns to check the car. You seize the opportunity. You hit her in the back of the head with the brick. You hear the loud thump as she hits the ground. You smell blood. Picking the girl up from the ground, you carry her to the mail truck.

Many miles and moments later, you pull into the garage. Grabbing your chainsaw. You are thrilled to chop the girl into pieces like your other victims.

You smile as her blood flies into the air. Her head rolls across the garage floor. Such a pretty girl, you do your most disturbing act yet. You brush the girl's hair, holding her detached head in your hands.