Song: Stan by Eminem

"I had a compulsion to do it."-Ed Gein

March 12th, 2014

Pasted all over town, a picture of me from when I kidnapped the sitter. The house she worked in had cameras and I hadn't noticed. News agencies posted my picture every news hour with the caption "Photo of The Midnight Killer. Be careful". Everyone in town was on the lookout, probably trying to see if they recognize the person in the surveillance video.

The bad news for them, and the narrow escape for me, was that the hoodie I wore covered my face. Therefore, they only had the outline of my body, no identifying markers. Anyone between 5'8" and 6'1'' could be the person in the picture.

In fact, at work today, it was the topic of discussion. No one could concentrate. Whispers here and there. People suspecting each other. People calling the police hotline claiming they saw The Midnight Killer. I know this because some of these callers were my co-workers.

The office jerk walked up to my cubicle and shouted, drawing everyone's attention. "Co-workers, listen, if we didn't know better we would suspect Skinny over here because of his love for privacy." He made the air quotation sign as he said privacy. He grabbed my arms tightly and continued, "But we all know he is too weak." Everyone in the office laughed.

Oh, they had no idea.

I laughed with them. Anything to get him off my back. He stopped laughing and said, "He even agrees. He's just a we-"

"Back to work everybody. I don't pay you to laze around," My boss shouted. "By the way, Skinny is too sweet to kill all those women."

I placed my hands over my chest and blinked my eyes, trying to look cute. "That's the sweetest thing you have ever said to me, boss."

Everyone laughed while he smiled and shook his head then left to his office. However, they didn't know I was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

At the end of the day, I drove to a supermarket close to my office to purchase some toiletries. As I was picking the items I needed, a conversation on the other aisle caught my attention. I removed a pack of shaving foam, so I could see through the open space into the other aisle like Tom, the peeper.

"Hey, baby, I'm on my way to your place," a black-haired female said. "Oh, you are working late?" Her voice sounded disappointed. "Okay, I will go home. Let me know when you get back. Love you. Bye."

When the call ended, I heard, "Jake is a good guy, why can't you love him?" another female that stood beside her said. This one was blonde.

The black-haired woman scoffed. "Who needs love when there is money."

The blonde-haired woman laughed. Then the black-haired turned in such a way that I could see her side view. I gasped. I recognized her. She was Olive, girlfriend of multimillionaire Jake Aaron.

Still recovering from the shock, I watched as a kid walked up to the black-haired and pulled at her blouse, offering her a candy. I found the act cute, until she hit the child telling the child to get out of her sight. The child ran off in tears.

Her friend asked her, "Why don't you like children?"

"Children?" She scoffed. "More like little demons." Her friend's eyes widened, obviously not pleased. Then Olive continued, "They just ruin women's figures. That's why I removed my uterus."

A gasp escaped my mouth. I quickly threw my hands over my mouth to avoid being noticed. Even her friend frowned in disappointment.

Her friend said, "What will you do when Jake wants children?"

She replied, "Let me get the ring on my finger first." She wiggled her fingers.

I couldn't decide if I should hate her because she hates children or because she is deceiving a man with a good heart. However, I was certain–she had to die.

At that exact moment, a plan came to mind but I needed the friend to leave her alone. And heaven heard my prayer, because her friend glanced at her wristwatch and said, "I have to go. Not everyone is dating a millionaire. Some of us still have to work." Then she left.

I quickly followed knowing that Olive will soon leave. I paid for what I bought and went to my car to wait. Fifteen minutes later, she came out.

I approached her. "Miss Olive?"

She turned and looked at me frowning. "Yes?"

"I'm Sean. Jake sent me to take you home because he would be working late and his driver is busy at the moment." I ushered her to my car.

She eyed it. Hey, not everyone is a millionaire or dating one. "Jake has never mentioned a Sean to me. And I'm sure he wouldn't associate with the likes of you." She eyed my car again.

I forced a smile. "I'm just a guy that owes him a favor." Thankfully, Jake was not that type of man that looks down on people. I have met him on a few occasions to work with him and the experiences were pleasant.

She nodded and I opened the door for her to get in. She did. Time to put my acting skills into play.

I got in and drove off. She caught me staring at her through the rearview mirror. I blushed and continued driving. She creased her brows.

Then I remembered that I did not know her address. "Miss Olive, Jake was in a hurry to attend his meeting so he didn't give me your address."

She rolled her eyes, but gave me the address anyway. Then she suddenly asked, "Is Jake really working late?"

What? "Huh?"

"Tomorrow is my birthday. Is he planning to propose?"

I smiled. "I don't know."

She smiled. "He is." She had this cocky glint in her eyes.

I mentally rolled my eyes. You wish. Anyway, I arrived at her house. "Miss, we are here. I'm supposed to wait and take you to his house later on."

"Okay."

I stepped out to open the door for her. No harm in playing chauffer if it will take me to my end goal.

The neighborhood was a nice one. Obviously, for the affluent. Somewhat private. I sat in the car for an hour waiting for the right time to strike. I was in fact ready. The syringe was hidden up my sleeves.

Opportunity fell right into my lap when she came out all dolled up. She said, "Take me to the Chanel store. I need to buy a gown for the surprise engagement tomorrow."

Dream on, baby girl.

I nodded and drove away. I turned to look at her and smiled. Goodbye.

"There is an insect on your neck," I said.

She shrieked. "Get it off me." She tried removing it.

"You won't see it. Move forward."

She did and I quickly injected her with the syringe I had hidden. I gave her a large dose, so she would be out for a long time.

I made sure the coast was clear before moving her body into the trunk. Hands tied, legs tied, and mouth covered, she looked like an animal about to be slaughtered.

Injecting her at that moment was the best call because the Chanel store was in the business district. Many cameras, many witnesses. Risks I didn't want to take.

I drove home with the plan to leave her body in the trunk until all my neighbors fell asleep.

"... if I killed them, you know, they couldn't reject me as a man."-Edmund Kemper

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