Chapter Two: The First One - Part 1

                I guess since I told you about what brought me on to the path I am currently on I could tell you about my first. They say the first time is always special, but you can never begin to expect what you are in for when you start. Over the years I studied serial killers, and murders to see where they all went wrong. What was the moment that they got caught? They all got too cocky, and over did it. Most did it for some sexual gratification. Me? I am doing this all for me. Why you may ask? Could it be from my childhood trauma, or from the moment I found the dead body? These last few years I have been asking myself that same question. Why? Why do I do it? I came up with an answer. The best answer I can give anyone reading this. I do this because I can. Society as a whole is a fucked up brutal orgy waiting for someone to come along and disturb the status quo. That someone happens to be. So I guess I should start with my first. The one that started my path to my 20^th one, my very first kill.

                It was a rainy day and I am standing in front of the grocery store with a yellow umbrella tucked behind my arm. I stood there and held the door open for a few people before I entered the store. I came there for a little shopping, and to find my first. I figured the grocery store would be a good place to look at a multitude of people coming and going. This would give me different types of people as I act like I am shopping. I grab a cart, and started down the first aisle. Would my first one be an overweight man or women, or some random child. No that’s not it I can’t justify myself into killing a child. I may be a killer but I would never harm a child. So who will this first one be? As I walk down the aisle putting in random items to look like I am there shopping, it dawns on me, my first should be a women.

                Ladies are weaker than most men so I figured there wouldn’t be much of a fight. I decided I need a woman in her 20’s so that she is young and has lived some. Some killers will look for women that are sexually attractive to them so they can do sexual perverse things to them dead or alive. I promised myself I wouldn’t do down that dark path, but finding someone easy on the eyes isn’t a bad idea.

                This time of the day is filled with little old ladies, single moms, and the occasional college student out to pick up snacks for their study nights. It was when I turned the corner of the chip aisle when I saw her. A 5’5” red head with long hair up in a ponytail, she was dressed like she just got out of the gym, yoga pants, and a tank top. It was perfect. I went down the aisle and said hello as I passed to go to the opposite side of the aisle as she was on. She is perfect. My palms are sweaty, and I am starting to shake. “I can do this,” I mumbled under my breath. After a few moments she left the aisle and I follow her from the other side of the aisles. I should have been more prepared. I didn’t expect to find the right girl on the first day out.

                As she was checking out I ditched my cart and left the store. I watched as she got inside her car and then I followed her to her house. It was a small apartment building about 5 miles away from the store. I now know where she lives, time to gather my tools and start my legacy. This is my first, my cherry, my virginity, my life. Welcome to the world of a soon to be killer. 

The Beginning Part 3

                There is 30 different parts to the human eye. Each part does a specific job, each as important as the next. That year I studied every single part. What draws me to the human eye is that each one is different but yet the same just like the human soul. Everyone has a set of eyes, two eyes that share the same purpose as the other. Everyone is supposed to have one soul, but we haven’t scientifically discovered if that is true or not. That school year I studied everything that I could, and on my 10^th birthday my parents took me to a children’s museum. They figured since I was studying that going to this museum would be fun for me. It was fun, but for a lot different reasons than I could ever imagine. It was my first taste of fresh blood, my first time causing pain to another human being.

                I was having the time of my life, bouncing from one exhibit to the next. I was like a kid in a candy store with free credit. The thing that interested me the most was this museum had a huge model of the human eye that you can take a part and put back together again. This thing was about as big as a beach ball, but so very detailed. My parents decided to just leave me to my own while they took a break on a bench outside the exhibit. I was sitting there taking the eye apart and putting it back together, carefully studying each and every part. The next part is kind of a blur, but next thing I knew I was being dragged away by a large man with his hand over my mouth. I am not sure how this man was able to sneak up behind me, but I guess it was because I was paying so much attention to the model eye.

                Now I really didn't know what this man’s plan was for me, but I knew it wasn't going to be good. He pulled my body through the hallways behind the museum. I tried my best to get away but he was much stronger than I was. Next thing I knew he slammed my body up against some boxes in this dark room. The man couldn't have been much older than 40, and looked like he was the janitor or something. I forced myself back as far as I could go while he was coming out me. Screaming for him to let me go, but he just smiled and laughed. He began to rip my shoes off of my feet. At this point I was stuck up against the wall with no place to go. I feared that I was going to die, but if you are reading this then you know I have made it. That man was determined to make sure that I wasn't going to make it out of there alive.

                The man was getting closer and closer, and then I saw it. Right there on his waste was a tool belt, and on that belt I saw a screw driver. As he got closer to me I reached out and grabbed that screw driver. He looked at me kind of stunned as I gripped that screw driver harder and harder. Tears running down my face, my little life in the hands of this mad man, it took everything in my soul to do what I did next. I planted that screw driver into the left eye of this man. Blood squirted all over me, but I was able to escape after that. I started running back through the hallways not knowing where I was going. Luckily for me someone from the staff heard me and was able to take me the police. I told them what happened and where the man took me to. The police went back to that room but there was no man. There was a sign of a struggle, and the shoes that I left behind. But on the floor was a puddle of blood, the screw driver that I grabbed from the man’s belt, and his eye attached to the screw driver.

                This was my first taste of blood, but not my last. This made something snap in me, and I became something else, something not human. That day was the end of my childhood, something I would never recover from, but something I don’t want to forget. It was my birthday in many ways. The day I was born, and the day I was truly born. Born. Survived. Rebirth. A new start.

The Beginning Part 2

     What the cops didn't know is I took something from the body. I figured if I take something I would never forget my buddy. The cops thought it was a buzzard that did it, but little did they know I had the eye in a jar below my bed. Every night I would lie in my bed and wait for my mom and dad to come tuck my in and tell me goodnight. After they leave I would get the jar out from under my bed and just look at it. I became obsessed with this eye. They say that the eyes are the window to the souls, it may sound crazy, and this eye was full of life. I could see a whole new world in this eye. Something that seem to have been lacking from my life, yet has been in hiding all this time. This eye started something in me that year, and I started studying the human eye in school. My parents and my teachers just thought it was me wanting to further my education, but I knew I wanted to know every part of the eye. Every night after my bath I would stare into the mirror looking at my own eye in hopes I would see my own soul.

     A few months after I got the eye off the body in the woods I decided I would dissect it. It has been sitting in a jar of formaldehyde that I took from the science lab. I had to wait until my parents where gone for the night and my babysitter was down stairs watching TV. This gave me plenty of time to start my search for the human soul. After my babysitter put me to bed and went down stairs to talk to her boyfriend on the phone I got to work. Earlier that day I gathered my tools that I would need to do this. I got a pocket knife, a bowl, plate, trash bags, another jar, yellow cleaning gloves, magnifying glass, tweezers, and spoon. I had no clue what I was doing. I took notes from books and videos from the library. I had everything I needed to get started. I put the gloves on and placed the trash bag on the floor to protect it from any mess I would have created. I was ready, and I was scared. I didn't know what was going to happen. I picked up my pocket knife with my right hand and grabbed the eye with my left hand. I placed the eye on the plate and began cutting it in half. There was eye juice everywhere. It squirted out when I put my knife in it.

     Some serial killers say that the first cut is like a drug. It gives you a nice body and mind high, but there is nothing like that first cut. I was young and I didn't know what I was doing, but cutting into that eye did something to me. It gave me something. I just can’t even begin to explain how I felt that first time. I spent the next couple hours looking at all the different parts of the eye, and still not finding the soul. I figured it could have been caused by the body not being fresh. That is my only explanation on why I couldn’t find it. I guess I had to find myself a fresher eye. Maybe something or someone that is alive when I get the eye. I was just a child, why would I even begin having thoughts like that? Was there something wrong with me? Or was this my calling in life?