Song: Murder By Numbers by The Police

"When this monster entered my brain, I will never know, but it is here to stay. How does one cure himself? I can't stop it, the monster goes on, and hurts me as well as society. Maybe you can stop him. I can't."—Dennis Rader

February 25th, 2014

Not trying to jinx the week considering it was just Tuesday, but my schedule had been a bit free. Maybe my boss could sense that I had almost reached my elastic limit because of my previous work load?

He assigned me to only three clients that week. Three clients meant three graphic designs to work on and finish in a week. It might seem like a lot to you, but to me it wasn't. Previously, I usually had five designs per week. And considering that most of our clients were big companies, CEO's were always the hardest to please.

Take for example, it was almost 4 p.m. and I was on my way to meet the CEO of one of the largest clothing lines in New York. From what I had heard, this man could make you redo a work over and over again until he was satisfied. But, that wasn't the annoying part. He wouldn't tell you exactly what he wanted; he'd just say 'surprise me,' and when you do, he doesn't like it. Who the hell does that?

I kind of wished the CEO was a woman so that I could kill her. But unfortunately, he wasn't. And men held no interest to me. If they did, my boss would have been long dead.

Back to the CEO; guess where he wanted to meet? A five-star restaurant. Good thing I left home on an empty stomach. I would have been angry if I was filled and I had to pass up the offer of free food. Who doesn't love free food? Especially from a five-star restaurant? If you don't, I certainly do.

As I pulled in front of the restaurant, a valet took my car keys from me and got in. Then I walked into the restaurant. My eyes darted to the left, I saw no one. Then to the right, still no one. I got confused. How could a restaurant be empty at this time of the day?

After about two minutes of me wondering if I should bolt—maybe it was set up?—a hostess came out from a room and walked up to me. "Right this way, Mister." She turned and walked back the same way she came.

I quickly glanced to my left, right, and behind me, and then pointed at myself. "Was she talking to me?" I said out loud.

As if she heard me, she turned towards me. "Are you coming or not? He is not a man to wait too long."

Those magic words did it for me. My feet decided to finally move and I hurried after her. As I entered the room, the scent of lavender hit my nostrils and I suddenly relaxed. "What is this place?" I asked.

"Wait here. He would be with you shortly," the hostess said and left. She didn't answer my question. Weird. Soft music played in the room, though I could not pinpoint where it played from.

As much as I tried to be alert, a calming presence filled the atmosphere and it bewitched me. I found myself relaxing into the soft chair.

About twenty minutes later, a young boy of about six years walked in. He couldn't be the client, could he? I shook my head. The place was messing with my mind. If not, how would I think a child that young was the CEO of a large company? I needed to get out of there before I ended up saying something I shouldn't.

The boy sat down beside me and stared at me. I swallowed and sat at the edge of the chair. I stood up and turned to leave.

"In a hurry, are you?" a voice boomed, echoing in the room.

I swiftly turned. "No, Sir," I replied with a shaky voice. What was wrong with me? Who was this guy that had me shaking at the sound of his voice?

"Take your seat," he commanded.

I did as he said.

Beside him stood a woman. "Angus, what are you doing alone in a room with a stranger? First, you interrupt me when I'm working, now this," she said, glaring at the boy, the boy I had long forgotten existed.

The boy whimpered and stuck his thumb into his mouth. "He seemed nice."

She marched over to the boy and loomed over him. "Don't I seem nice?" she asked, giving him an icy glare.

The boy nodded.

"But I'm not nice," she sneered at his face then grabbed him by the ear and pulled him out of the room.

Words could not come out of my mouth as I watched the little drama. What kind of weird people did my boss send me to? Was I being pranked?

"That woman is a bitch. I only keep her around because she is a good stress reliever, if you get what I mean." The weird man smirked then sat opposite me. "How do you feel?"

I nodded still speechless.

"That is a lie, but I would let it pass. Now unto the design you will do for me. I'm about to launch a new clothing line but I need a catchy advertisement for it." He picked up a file from a side table and handed it me. I hadn't even noticed it before.

I took it with trembling hands. I skimmed through it; sketches of different wears were inside the file.

Suddenly, he moved closer to me. "What I want you to do is translate everything you are feeling into the advertisement. All my resources are at your disposal. If any information in this file leaks, I would have your head," he said with a sneer.

I shuddered and nodded. I felt like a bobble head at that moment.

"You can go now." He dismissed me like I was a fleck of dirt at his fingertips and then relaxed into his seat.

I didn't need to be told twice. I quickly put the file in my bag and hurried to the entrance of the room.

"Wait!" he said.

I froze. What could he possibly want again?

"Sorry about the weirdness of this place. I needed you to feel what I wanted you to portray in the advertisement. Have a nice day." He smiled like he hadn't toyed with my emotions.

I nodded and hurried out. When I got out, I exhaled. Weirdo. I looked at the sign and imprinted it in my mind. I swore never to go there ever again.

As I waited for the valet to bring my car out, I spotted the woman that was in the room earlier on. With her was the boy and he was crying his eyes out. His face—red like tomatoes. She was having a conversation on the phone, so I moved closer to listen in.

"Come and take this thing away from me," she said through gritted teeth. I obviously couldn't hear what the other person was saying.

"I told you I never wanted a child, but did you listen? No." She clenched her fists.

She backed out an evil laugh. "Now you have the mouth to call me a bitch. Didn't you know that before you married me or when you were sleeping with me?"

She scoffed at what the other person said. Probably her husband. "If you don't come and pick him up, I would leave him on the street. Imagine! He interrupted me when I was having sex with my boss." My ears rang like when Tom and Jerry suddenly heard a loud sound.

She gritted her teeth at the person's response. "You can have him all to yourself. I will sign him over to you along with the divorce papers. I don't want your money again. My boss is capable of taking care of my needs."

I shook my head at her. The boss that doesn't even care about her. But he doesn't have to worry about her any more. She wouldn't live to see the next day. Not while "The Midnight Killer" is still alive. I smirked to myself. I probably looked crazy to anyone that had been watching me.

At that moment, the valet brought my car. I got in and drove a small distance. I wanted to keep an eye on the lady.

I looked for a good parking space, where I wouldn't be disturbed by the police. Then I sat in my car, waiting to the perfect time to attack.

Ten minutes later, a man who must have been the soon-to-be ex-husband came and picked up the boy. He gave her some documents, probably the divorce papers and left. Then she went back into the creepy restaurant.

Not long after that, she strolled out with the weird CEO. They got into a black limousine and off they went. I tailed the car back to a house, where only the lady got out and the CEO went his merry way. Never to see her again, if I had any say in the matter. And I always did.

On a normal day, I would go home and return later in the night but I wasn't sure if she would still be at home. So, all I could do was get some snacks since that weirdo of a CEO didn't offer me any food. I wouldn't have eaten if he did. Who knows what he would have put in it.

I had never been more bored than that moment in my entire life. Watching hours crawl by while sitting in a car was the most boring thing ever. I couldn't read because I didn't want to get engrossed in a book then miss my next victim.

I didn't want to play music, so as not draw attention. Already, a weird car parked at a spot for a long time was strange enough. Then imagine if I started playing loud music. It would be like screaming 'arrest me.' And that was the last thing I needed. But the good thing was that the houses in that neighborhood were far from each other.

I glanced at my wristwatch; it was almost nine in the night. Damn, I had been sitting there for close to three hours. I really was insane.

Since she probably didn't have any plans on coming out again, I decided to go to her. There is this proverb that says: if Mohammed can't go to the mountain, the mountain will go to Mohammed. That was the approach I went with.

But first I had to go buy a large bouquet of flowers. After I bought them, I carried them along with the other thing I always use to her front porch and pressed the doorbell.

"Who is that?" she called from inside.

"Special delivery for you, ma'am," I replied.

"What kind of delivery?" She sounded skeptical. And she should.

"Flowers from a lovely gentleman. He paid extra to have it delivered this late." I smiled at my reply.

She shrieked. "Oh my gosh! He had flowers delivered to me." She flung the door open. "So beautiful!" she cried out when she saw the flowers.

Foolish woman. I used the flowers to cover my face so she wouldn't see me and recognize me. "Good evening, ma'am. Where would you like me to put them?" I asked.

"This way." She ushered me in.

And I followed her. She led me to the parlor. She pointed to a corner. "Place it there."

I did and then turned to face her. But she couldn't see me. She stared at the flowers all googly-eyed. I walked up to her and before she could come out of her trance, I quickly jabbed the syringe into her neck. Her eyes closed as she collapsed into my awaiting arms.

"I wish you all had one neck and that I had my hands on it."—Carl Panzram

Thank you for reading THE SERIAL KILLER IN ME. Please don't forget to vote, comment, critique and share. I am really grateful.