Serial Killer's Diary: The Final Cut

**Warning: these entries may be graphic and, hopefully, frightening.  Keep in mind this is merely fiction.  No humans (or animals) have or will be harmed in the production of this blog.  All names have been chosen at random and are not meant to represent anyone, living or dead.  Any similarities are purely coincidental**

10/31/13   11:30 PM

      Even now, I see it all as if was a dream.  I was outside of my own body, watching it like a crappy television program.  The doctor, I can’t remember his name even though it was something common like Smith or Jones.  He looked worn, optimistically somber, exhausted.  He shakes my hand and holds onto it just a split second longer than the typically-curt, professional handshake,  You know the kind I mean, the “I don’t really care what your name is, to me you’re just a medical records number”, kind of handshake. No, this handshake said, “I wish your doctor wasn’t dead so she could give you this news instead of me”.  

      He got right to the point though.  I barely had my butt in the seat and he said, “I’m sorry to tell you this but (the pause lasted an eternity) you have cancer.  Inoperable, rapidly spreading, we-can’t-believe-you’re-still-alive, to be quite blunt, cancer.  He put a comforting hand on my shoulder and said, “It’s almost as if your body was hanging on for something special.  It’s a miracle, really”.  Then he says, the tumor pressing on my brain is so massive, usually a patient with that kind pressure exhibits drastic mood or behavioral changes.  He asks me if I’ve noticed anything or if perhaps my loved ones have expressed a concern.  I’m guessing anyone who noticed is already dead but I don’t tell him that.  Instead, I say, “I don’t really have any family or loved ones.”  Again he looks at me with that, “aw crap, why me” look and smiles knowingly.  I tell him I haven’t got anyone, not even a pet.  I still don’t know why I said that, it must have been the tumor talking.  At this point all I can think of is Arnold Schwarzenegger in that Kindergarten movie saying, “It tis nawt ah toomah”.    

      Because the hospital had screwed up the test results and two months had passed without any treatment, they’ve volunteered to provide my treatment free of charge.  Free of charge as in please don’t sue the crap out of us.  Since I have no one to leave the money to and I’m gonna die anyway, I tell them I’ll sign the waiver.  The ink wasn’t even dry before a nurse tucked me into a wheelchair and whisked me off the room where I’m going to die.  I have tubes hanging out of me from every angle and a nifty little morphine pump so I won’t feel a thing.  I guess Blake and Richards are getting a pass.  It’s kind of a shame, I wanted to test my skills and see how far I could go.  Maybe the reason my body held out is because Jenkins and Dick needed to be taken care of.  The world is a better place without them and I guess the same goes for me too.  The pump just flushed another dose of morphine into my IV and I think I could get used to this.  I’m not in pain anymore.  Soon I’ll lose control of fingers and melt into the pillow but for now, I feel like I’m floating on a cloud.  Only, who is that huddled in the corner over there? If I didn't know better, I'd swear it was Don. Why won’t anyone answer me?  What is Don doing in my room?  Why is he wearing my Heisenberg hat?    

Serial Killer's Diary: Part 24

**Warning: these entries may be graphic and, hopefully, frightening.  Keep in mind this is merely fiction.  No humans (or animals) have or will be harmed in the production of this blog.  All names have been chosen at random and are not meant to represent anyone, living or dead.  Any similarities are purely coincidental**

10/30/13   8:15  PM

      Being the assistant manager has a few perks.  I get free meals.  I get insurance, both medical and dental.  Not to mention, my pay raise is higher than what I’d expected.  The best part is I don’t have to wait tables anymore.  Instead of tips, I get bonuses now.  I make the schedules too so I don’t have to worry about anyone cutting my hours or giving me every single crap shift while the hot chicks get the best tip hours. 

      I’d been thinking about how to tweak the detective’s noses and perhaps have a little fun with them.  I had planned to try a little undercover surveillance to get a feel for their schedules but there was no need.  They spent most of the day at the restaurant.  While it would be fun to put some Hemlock in their coffee it would be a horrible mistake.  Not only would it blow my cover, Don would be set free and I definitely don’t want that.  It makes me happy to know he is going to rot in jail or perhaps wind up on Death Row.  Every time I think of Don, I just want yell out, “dead man walking”.   Instead, I added a few drops of Visine to one their cups of coffee.  At first I wasn’t sure who got the loaded cup but soon enough, it was pretty obvious.  Blake spent more time in the bathroom than he did digging through Don’s desk.  Yeah, I can’t have a desk until they’ve finished so I’m stuck taking the corporate Webinars at Jack’s desk.  
      I hate that word, “webinar”.  I hate all those stupid little corporate America phraseologies and catch phrases.  It’s right up there with “actionable”, “taking ownership”, “core/corporate values” (by the way, there’s no such thing), or “thinking outside the box”.  My stupid webinar used every one of those idiotic terms and then some.  After a little “face time”, I could be a real “game changer” on the “fast track” to GIVE ME A BREAK!!!  I swear, the next time someone tells me something isn’t “brand” I’m going to punch them in the face.  How’s that for brand?  Or maybe your next “cup a Joe” or “go juice” will get a few squirts of Visine and all you “foodies” have your meals garnished with chopped Hemlock instead of parsley.  I’m headed to bed early tonight, I have that follow up appointment from the MRI. 

Serial Killer's Diary: Part 23

**Warning: these entries may be graphic and, hopefully, frightening.  Keep in mind this is merely fiction.  No humans (or animals) have or will be harmed in the production of this blog.  All names have been chosen at random and are not meant to represent anyone, living or dead.  Any similarities are purely coincidental**

10/29/13   8:45 PM

      At Jack’s request, I met with him today at the restaurant.  He said he would be happy to offer me the assistant manager position, assuming I would sign a document releasing the restaurant (and its parent company) from any kind of wrongful termination suits.  Hmmm…I guess legal is concerned about being held liable for Don’s actions.  I don’t see any reason to hold Don’s behavior against anyone else, especially Jack.  I signed the agreement and, good news; I’m going to get a pretty hefty raise too.  Jack and I were shooting the breeze when a new waitress came knocking on the office door.  She looked barely older than sixteen, sporting a fresh crop of pimples across her nose and chin.  She’s a pathetic replacement for Natalie but beggars can’t be choosers.  The restaurant doesn’t exactly rate high in public opinion right now.   
      Anyway, the girl escorts a couple of men into the office.  The men reached into their jackets and pull out their badges.  Police detectives.  I felt my heart jump into my throat like a rat trying to leap off of a sinking ship.  That little voice inside my head wasn’t so little, it was shrieking like a crazed banshee.  “They’re coming for you.” “You’re busted.”  It was so loud I was afraid everyone in the room could hear it.  As it turns out, the detectives had no real interest in me.  They asked me the same stock questions they asked everyone else.  I wasn’t special in their opinion.  They took my statement and sent me on my way.  It just goes to show how clueless they are.  They’re no match for my superior mind.  It would serve them right if I took them out too.  I wonder- would it be possible?  Could I really pull that off without getting caught?  That would be the true test of my talents.  Well, Detective Blake and Detective Richards prepare to be awed, or dead.  

Serial Killer's Diary: Part 22

**Warning: these entries may be graphic and, hopefully, frightening.  Keep in mind this is merely fiction.  No humans (or animals) have or will be harmed in the production of this blog.  All names have been chosen at random and are not meant to represent anyone, living or dead.  Any similarities are purely coincidental**

10/28/13    9:15 PM

     I’m definitely feeling the effects from yesterday.  By the time I finished all the yard work for Mr. and Mrs. Flemming, I could barely move.  I hinted to Mrs. Flemming that I might have to move out if I couldn’t find work soon.  With no job and practically nothing coming in from unemployment, I could either eat or have a roof over my head-I couldn’t afford both.  She looked so sad; I swear she had tears in her eyes!  She insisted that she and her husband didn’t want a new tenant.  She said they felt so comfortable with me and it wasn’t like they really needed the money anyway.  It made them feel safe to have a strong young man nearby if they needed any help.  Again, she reminded me of all the times I’ve helped them out, like shoveling the driveway, mowing the grass and cleaning out the rain gutters.  I figured the reason my rent was so low was because I did those things but apparently that’s not the case.  They offered to waive November’s rent if I did a little extra yard work.  Done, only now I can barely move. 

      I slept in and it was late in the day before I was able to get up and shower.  I stood under the steamy spray for at least an hour trying to loosen up my muscles.  Eventually, I managed to get myself moving.  My fridge was empty so I headed over to the store for some groceries.  I ran into Angela there.  She and Marcus have been dating seriously so I had to listen to her gush over her happy little life. Ugh! 

      Anyway, she gets real serious then and asks me if I’ve heard about Natalie.  I was afraid I’d give myself away so I went with the “play dumb” routine.  As her eyes grew teary, she told me Natalie was dead and they suspect foul play.  I could feel the blood draining from my face as I asked her what she meant by foul play.  She says, “They think it was murder.  But if you ask me, I think it was Don.”  Curious now, I asked her why.  She tells me that just before Nikki died, Don had asked her out on a date but Nikki said no.  The next day, Nikki was dead.  Then she says, “And there’s that crap Don told Natalie about you.”  What crap, I ask her.  It seems Don claimed that I told him that I’d had sex with Natalie.  He must think I’m some kind of ladies man because he claimed that I’d managed to make Natalie do other things-perverted things.  He told all of this to Natalie because he suspected she had feelings for me.  “I don’t even talk to that douchebag!” I replied.  I must have shouted it because the other shoppers all turned and looked at me and Angela shushed me.  Angela says, “That’s what I told Natalie, right after you got fired last week”.  She leaned in closer, whispering to me about how Don was saying all kinds of horrible things about me to the whole staff.  
      “That’s why Natalie wouldn’t speak to me,” I interrupted.  Again I was shushed but this news was huge.  Natalie only snubbed me because she thought I was spreading rumors about her.  My heart sank.  Angela said she found out later-after I’d already been canned.  She said Don hit on Natalie and even kissed her in the parking lot.  I’d seen the kiss but apparently, what I hadn’t seen, was Natalie saying that if he ever did that to her again she was going to file sexual harassment charges.       

      She wasn’t in league with Don.  In fact, Angela had finally managed to convince her that Don had lied about me and, if she hadn’t died, Natalie was planning to apologize to me.  Suddenly, the room began to spin.  I couldn’t breathe.  Natalie was dead and the worst part is that she hadn’t deserved to die.  It was all Don’s fault and I was filled with rage. I insisted that Angela and Marcus had to report all of this to the police.  Natalie needed to be avenged.  Angela smiled (a dark and wicked smile) and said, “We already did.”  The police had arrested Don just a few hours earlier.  Marcus was at the restaurant and he called her right after it happened.  He said Don was sobbing like a little girl as they led out in handcuffs.           
      By the time I got home, there was a message on my answering machine from Jack, begging me to come back to work.  He said he couldn’t guarantee that they’d stay open much longer, especially after all the bad press, but he desperately needed an assistant manager and he wanted me for the job. 

Rest in peace, Natalie.

Serial Killer's Diary: Part 21

**Warning: these entries may be graphic and, hopefully, frightening.  Keep in mind this is merely fiction.  No humans (or animals) have or will be harmed in the production of this blog.  All names have been chosen at random and are not meant to represent anyone, living or dead.  Any similarities are purely coincidental**

10/26/13   3:45  PM

      I barely slept last night and no matter how hard I try, I can’t even catch a nap.  Every time I close my eyes I can see her lying there, stiff and lifeless as her mom thrusts down and down again in chest compressions.  It’s not like I have a priest or something and I sure as hell don’t want to confess to the police so I guess this is my outlet.  I was so distraught that I couldn’t even write it down last night.  Sadly, I wasn’t able to tune it out though.  I wanted it to turn out so differently.  I wanted her.  As I watched her mom-pressing down with all of her strength while tears streamed down her cheeks, my vision blurred.  But I should back up and explain it all.  Maybe if I get it all off my chest I can finally get some sleep…

      After I sprinkled the Hemlock on Natalie’s food, yesterday afternoon, I high-tailed it out of the parking lot.  I remembered that she was scheduled to work until 8 because I was foolishly clinging to the idea that maybe she and I could go out after work.  I tried not to think about her but I couldn’t help it.  At 7:40 I finally gave up.  I drove over toward the restaurant and parked next door in the Starbuck’s lot.  I saw Natalie exit but she was followed by someone else.  I had borrowed Mr. Flemming’s binoculars a while back and there were still in my glove box.  As I peered through the high powered lenses I noticed it was Don.  They stood by her car for a few moments and then he kissed her.  I hope Don gets pounded into oblivion by his cellmate when he ends up prison.  Anyway, she got in her car and I followed from a safe distance.  I expected her to drive to her apartment, which is why I brought the binoculars but she didn’t.  I saw her pull into the driveway of a large house with blue shutters.  I drove past the driveway and up the hill.  From across the street I could see into the house through the gigantic bay windows.  Natalie walked in without knocking so, naturally, I was curious.  I could see her hugging an older couple and, judging from their age, I assumed it was her parents.  I watched her cross through to the back of the house and pop her take-out container into the microwave.  She was sitting at the kitchen table talking then her mom hugged her again.  I watched as she dug into her food and washed it down with a large glass of iced tea.  Well, I assumed it was iced tea-it was brown and there was a lemon slice floating in the glass. 

      I began to wonder if I had put enough Hemlock in the food.  It seemed like I was waiting there, watching through those binoculars for an eternity.  Finally, Natalie stood and started walking out of the kitchen when she froze.  Next thing I knew, she tipped over onto the floor like a felled tree-stiff and lifeless.  I could see her mom shriek and I swear I could hear it piercing my eardrums like a silent dart.  I could see her mouth, “call nine-one-one as she dropped to her knees and flipped Natalie over.  Her father dashed to the phone.  They still have a wall phone hanging in their kitchen. 

      Weird, I never really had a relationship with my dad.  He’d left us and I lived with my mom until she killed herself.  By then, he was already involved with another woman and had a new family.  I ended up in a boarding school, essentially an orphan.  But Natalie, she clearly had a family that she loved and they loved her.  Even her dad was sobbing openly when the EMT’s carted her out of the house on the gurney.  It wasn’t until I went to put the binoculars back that I realized they were soaking wet.  The tears streaming down my face matched those of Natalie’s father.  

Serial Killer's Diary: Part 20

**Warning: these entries may be graphic and, hopefully, frightening.  Keep in mind this is merely fiction.  No humans (or animals) have or will be harmed in the production of this blog.  All names have been chosen at random and are not meant to represent anyone, living or dead.  Any similarities are purely coincidental**

10/25/13    6:15 PM

      I was up early this morning.  I’d forgotten to turn off my alarm since I only recently joined the ever growing ranks of the unemployed.  It was still dark outside and I decided to take a stroll around the neighborhood to try to clear my mind.  As I wandered along, I seemed to end up in front of the house growing the Hemlock.  With no one around, I snagged a few handfuls and stuffed them into my pockets, wondering how I was going to pull off my newest mission. Once I got home I chopped up the leaves and put them in a zipper-seal bag.

      By then it was time to shower and head over to the hospital.  There’s nothing exciting to report there.  The techs were friendly enough but they aren’t allowed to tell me anything.  It was the ride home that made all the difference. 

      There’s no way to avoid it, I have to drive past the restaurant on my way home from the hospital.  The instant its stucco exterior came into view I found myself wishing a huge meteor would come hurling through the sky and smash the whole place into oblivion.  It didn’t.  But something almost as good happened.  As I sat at the traffic light, waiting for it to turn green, I noticed Natalie scurrying across the parking lot with a package in her hand.  I had one of those, should’ve had a V-8 moments, where I smacked myself in the head.  I can’t believe I forgot. Natalie always takes home whatever is left over from her lunch.  Since it’s been kinda chilly out, she probably figured it was safe to put it in her car.  I was silently cursing myself for forgetting the Hemlock but then I reached into my pocket and it was there!  I didn’t remember putting it back into my jacket pocket but I’m so glad I did.  Revenge really is sweet but, in this case, it is also a dish best served as cold leftovers.  As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed Don’s car was nearby and the spot next to Natalie’s car was open.  Natalie has a bad habit of leaving her car unlocked so it’s about time someone teaches her a lesson. 

      One of the advantages of being an ex-employee is that I know for a fact the video cameras in the parking lot do not work.  Well, take that Natalie.  The chopped leaves look exactly like parsley but I really got lucky because Natalie had ordered the Garlic Alfredo Chicken.  The garlic scent is so strong she’ll never smell the Hemlock.  A second death by Hemlock to employees of the same restaurant will certainly catch the attention of the authorities.  The restaurant will probably close once the media catches wind of it but if they hadn’t fired me, they wouldn’t be in this mess.  Goodbye, Natalie!

Serial Killer's Diary: Part 19

**Warning: these entries may be graphic and, hopefully, frightening.  Keep in mind this is merely fiction.  No humans (or animals) have or will be harmed in the production of this blog.  All names have been chosen at random and are not meant to represent anyone, living or dead.  Any similarities are purely coincidental**

10/24/13   2:00 PM

      Some days it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed.  In spite of my aching and fever, I hauled my butt into work anyway.  We’ve been shorthanded between Nikki’s death, Natalie’s bereavement, and Jack’s flu.  As it turns out, Natalie was back today.  I tried to say hi to her but she was very cold and distant.  I asked her if I’d done something to upset her but she walked away in a huff.  Ten minutes later, I’m in Don’s office getting reamed out because I made Natalie feel “uncomfortable”.  The bastard fired me!  As I was walking out the door, I heard him say to Natalie, “You don’t have to worry about him bothering you anymore”.  So, after everything I did for Natalie, she got me fired.  How could she do that to me?  I could have reported her for harassment and defamation of character.  She told people I was gay, for crying out loud –but I didn’t!  Instead, I got her out of an abusive/unfaithful relationship and this is how she repays me. Maybe Natalie needs to be reunited with her boyfriend… 

      This is going to take some serious planning.  If she turns up missing, Don will surely try to pin the blame on me.  He’s had a bug up his butt about me since I started there.  But, if I can find a way to stick him with the rap, it would be sweet justice. No, make that righteous retribution.  Yes, that’s what I need to do.  Both of them will pay.  I guess I’ll have plenty of time to figure out a plan while I’m at the damn unemployment office.  More later-

5:00 PM

      Now that all of the stupid paperwork for unemployment is finished, I can focus my attention on more important issues-Natalie and Don.  Maybe I should    

Well, crap!  I forget what I was going to write.  The hospital called and they can get me in for that MRI tomorrow.  They set me up for an appointment with one of their physicians on the 31^st , to get the test results.  The girl who called sounded hot.  Her voice was sort of throaty and really sexy, think Demi Moore (back in the day and pre- Ashton Kutcher, when she was smoking hot)  I wonder if the voice on the other line had been one of the ladies at the restaurant.  With the obvious exception of Becky, those other chicks were pretty cute.  Gotta forget the honeys and focus! 

      I need to find out where Natalie and Don live and what they do outside of work.  I wish I could figure out a way to get Hemlock into their food. No, wait….I only need to get Hemlock into Natalie’s food.  Twice in the same restaurant and this time no quail…maybe Don would get nailed for both Nikki and Natalie’s death.  Now that would be sweet!  I need to do some recon and tonight, after dark, I need to snag some more of that Hemlock before it dies.  It’s been getting chilly lately.