Blood Love
Oh, Canada
As I drove I replayed her murder in my mind. I thought shooting was fun but using a knife was
much more intimate. Orgasm worthy, as I sighed in remembrance. I stopped at a rest stop to change
my clothes and wash away the blood. I threw the knife in the lake and my clothes in a nearby dump
truck. Gun in the trash. I smiled as I counted my money – 1600 dollars- I could go anywhere. So I
grabbed my go bag from my trunk and stuck my money with my passport. I was off to the airport for
their next available flight.
As I pulled into the airport I quickly wiped off the steering wheel, shifter and handles and made
my way inside. For eight p.m. it was surprisingly slow for an L.A. airport. I bought my ticket to
Quebec. Round trip for possible confusion if I was suspected. The flight was for six a.m. so I
wandered aimlessly for a while before claiming a bench and waiting for sleep.
I awoke around 5 to a small wave of people around me – I wanted to kill them all... I smirked at
the thought as I glanced up at the TV. There were two murders last night – miles apart and
gruesome but unrelated... yet. No suspects were had yet either. I stood up and stretched my sore
muscles as I made my way to the restrooms. To my relief nobody was inside. I locked the door and
crept to the mirror to stare at my reflection.
My hair was a mess so I tied it casually behind my back. My eyes – ivy green – looked sallow in the
fluorescent light. I licked a small fleck of dried blood from the corner of my lips and splashed cool
water over my face. I looked hard at the reflection of myself. I looked normal (whatever that meant) I
didn’t look like some serial killer. Some monster who took the life of a stranger and an acquaintance.
I looked innocent – an innocent girl someone once called me. But I wasn’t that either. I looked like an
innocent virgin. Pure as winters first snow fall. I wasn’t but I found that the power of killing someone,
the act of playing God was better than sex. At least better than any I ever had. I craved to do it again.
To carve someone like a friggen jack o lantern on Halloween.. With one last breath I clicked the
bathroom lock and made my way to the terminal. Eager to claim my seat, pop in my ear buds and
sleep until the plane landed in Quebec. Eager to start my new life in Canada and eager to practice my
new found obsession.
much more intimate. Orgasm worthy, as I sighed in remembrance. I stopped at a rest stop to change
my clothes and wash away the blood. I threw the knife in the lake and my clothes in a nearby dump
truck. Gun in the trash. I smiled as I counted my money – 1600 dollars- I could go anywhere. So I
grabbed my go bag from my trunk and stuck my money with my passport. I was off to the airport for
their next available flight.
As I pulled into the airport I quickly wiped off the steering wheel, shifter and handles and made
my way inside. For eight p.m. it was surprisingly slow for an L.A. airport. I bought my ticket to
Quebec. Round trip for possible confusion if I was suspected. The flight was for six a.m. so I
wandered aimlessly for a while before claiming a bench and waiting for sleep.
I awoke around 5 to a small wave of people around me – I wanted to kill them all... I smirked at
the thought as I glanced up at the TV. There were two murders last night – miles apart and
gruesome but unrelated... yet. No suspects were had yet either. I stood up and stretched my sore
muscles as I made my way to the restrooms. To my relief nobody was inside. I locked the door and
crept to the mirror to stare at my reflection.
My hair was a mess so I tied it casually behind my back. My eyes – ivy green – looked sallow in the
fluorescent light. I licked a small fleck of dried blood from the corner of my lips and splashed cool
water over my face. I looked hard at the reflection of myself. I looked normal (whatever that meant) I
didn’t look like some serial killer. Some monster who took the life of a stranger and an acquaintance.
I looked innocent – an innocent girl someone once called me. But I wasn’t that either. I looked like an
innocent virgin. Pure as winters first snow fall. I wasn’t but I found that the power of killing someone,
the act of playing God was better than sex. At least better than any I ever had. I craved to do it again.
To carve someone like a friggen jack o lantern on Halloween.. With one last breath I clicked the
bathroom lock and made my way to the terminal. Eager to claim my seat, pop in my ear buds and
sleep until the plane landed in Quebec. Eager to start my new life in Canada and eager to practice my
new found obsession.