I'm Obsessed With Serial Killers

I didn't see Liliana the next day, but that was okay. Anyone can drive you absolutely insane if you're around them for too long. Plus it gets to the point where there isn't a thing to talk about, and, really, it's just boring.
I had decided that, today, I would be a recluse again. I still had a lot of prep work to do before I could initiate the things that have been haunting my head for years, it seemed like a good day to make some progress.

I read up on a few more killers. One thing I found interesting was a fact I read about Ted Bundy, killer of multiple women and master charmer, was investigated after being pulled over for a broken taillight. It made me laugh to myself, really, if I'm going to do anything criminal, I have to be careful not to draw any attention to me.
After all, you can get away with breaking the big rules if you obey all of the small ones.

Plus, I don't think I'm all that bad of a monster. I mean there have been killers like Ed Gein, so psychotic that they not only killed people, but enjoyed wearing the skins of their victims. Gein even fixed himself a belt made of sawed off human nipples, not to mention the fact that he built furniture from the dead body parts and they found a shoebox of vaginas in his house somewhere. I guess he didn't put the corpses to waste
While the very thought of human flesh set my teeth on edge, I couldn't wear it. I don't think I'd want to. I'd rather just keep the people around for company, you know. So it's not so damn lonely all the time around here. Then again, I don't know how that would work out with my expert disposal plan of burning them.
Maybe I should get myself a pet cat.

At about 3 o'clock, I figured I'd take a 'field trip' with myself to the outskirts of town. Not exactly the easiest thing to do in San Francisco, but I still found some suitable abandoned area about 45 minutes south of town. It was sheltered with a fair amount of trees and bushes, enough, I fathomed, that dragging a body through it could go unnoticed in the dead of night. Then burning them shouldn't prove to difficult, I accepted the fact that I wouldn't really know until I tried.
The thing about murder, is it's always riskiest the first time. You're untrained, and unsure. Keeping your guard up is crucial, but even then, it's impossible to truly know what you're doing until you've already enacted it at least once. Preferably more than that.
I marked the spot on my phone's GPS system before leaving my car to explore the land farther. I came across an old cabin, it looked like nobody had been here for multiple years. Just to be safe, I knocked on the door and waited a few minutes before trying to creep in.
The door was rusted and squeaked with an ear-piercing sound as I cautiously pushed it open. Wincing, I managed to open a gap large enough for my body to easily slide through. The inside of the cabin smelled predominately of dust, with a faint smell of cigarette smoke mixed in with it. There was no furniture, just a large, vacant main room with a door leading to a bedroom, also empty, with a grimy bathroom attatched to it. I felt disgusted at the sight of it - I certainly wasn't going to use this facility if I ever decided to make use of the rest of the cabin! There was also a small kitchen and a back door that I didn't feel the need to open up. At the time I had no cleaning supplies, but I figured this cabin could be of great use to me later on if I could bring myself to clean it out... I made a note of it, so it had the potential to be mixed in with the master plan later on. For now, I just needed to focus on the first kill, the pivotal deciding point to the rest of my life as a killer.

I left the cabin, making my way back to my car and driving back up to my apartment. I had wasted more time than intended, noticing that it was 7:30 by the time I arrived back. Entering my apartment, I went into a frenzy trying to find the perfect supplies to destroy evidence of myself as a murder suspect. Gloves, a disposable apron, easily concealed knives, and a sedative. I wasn't sure I needed to dispose of the body just yet - what's one cut up hobo lying in the bushes to the massive population of San Francisco?
I guess I was underestimating that, though. I figured dismemberment and disposal would be a safer way. As for blood left behind? Hopefully the authorities would chalk it up to another homeless property dispute. Now the only real obstacle would be finding a sedative...

Then, it hit me - if I used a large enough amount of diphenhydramine, I could probably knock someone out long enough to quickly slice them up. I just had to find someone in an ideal enough place that I wouldn't be seen... I took a deep breath and suited myself up. Tight black pants, and a black hoodie pulled over my face so that it shadowed my eyes. I also put a surgical mask over my face - one of the ones I had left over from the swine flu epidemic a while back. I guess I stood out, but in Frisco, there are a lot of people who do.
I mixed a juice drink up with a bottle of 50 25mg pills, being sure to shake it up enough to make them invisible. I bit my lip, afraid of fucking up if I were to try it to be sure the taste wouldn't be too obvious. I would just have to press my luck with it, I guess.
Unsure of what to use, I took a box cutter and a switchblade and concealed them in my jacket pocket, gloves already on hand.

An hour later, with everything ready, I set off into town, walking a few blocks north of my apartment until I came to a shady area, not completely empty, but not lined with bar hopping pedestrians, either. I turned into a dark alley, virtually unaware of the nearest street name. It didn't matter, though. I had found my first victim, leaning against a building, tattered clothing covered his body and dirt smeared over his skin. He looked up at me, staring yet silent. I took out my bottle of juice.
"You look like you could use this," I smiled kindly at him.
He nodded at me and took the bottle. "Thanks, man."
I looked up at the wall, watching him drink out of the corner of my eye. The expression on his face showed that he noticed a strange taste to the juice, but he finished it nontheless. The poor man, he probably forgot what a bottle of juice was really supposed to taste like...
His misery would be ended soon enough, though. Just as soon as the sedative took effect...