Red was her color...end

I did not choose my next victim, she chose me. By this time I had dropped the glasses, the mustache and accent and adopted a new name. I easily acquired a passport with the Calvin Myers printed next to my photo. I was sitting in a bar drinking scotch when she came up to me. I could smell her perfume from several feet away. She must have marinated herself in it to cover the smell of sweat and sex, but it was not nearly enough.1

She announced herself as Bianca, and sat on my lap. I knew what she wanted. I was lonely and bored and decided to indulge her. I flashed her a twenty dollar bill and her face lit up. As if she had just won the lottery. I laughed to myself. Minutes later we were in a seedy motel room that rented by the hour. Five dollars, american. No identification was necessary in a place like that. We went to our room, and I chuckled to myself as I looked at the number on the door. 116.2

Once inside I shut and locked the door. She didn't look at all concerned. She was used to this sort of thing. I am sure many of her clients were into kinky things, but she had no idea what she was in for. I asked her to remove her clothing and lie on the bed. She did so quickly and the sight was sickening to me. Her body was not anything like Natalie's. She was tall, blonde (though not naturally as I could tell from her pubic hair) and she was thick. Her breasts were large and not at all firm. I decided that I would it quick.3

I told her that I wanted to tie her up and the idea excited her. She told me that would be extra and I explaied that money was not an issue. I used the sheets to bind her wrists and ankles. She didn't fight me at all as I wrapped my hands around her neck. I think she liked it rough. It took several seconds for her to realize I wanted more than kinky sex and she started to kick, but it was too late. Her air had been cut off too long and she passed out. I took the knife from my back pocket and began to cut her skin. There was no real pattern to it, just random slashes on pale white flesh. Once the white sheets had been saturated I left her there and flashed a smile to the man behind the counter. He took no notice to the fact that I left alone.4

I never heard anything about her on the news. I suppose she was not missed by anyone. Her death was no tragedy. Just another wasted life.5

I went back to my hotel and did not leave the room again for several weeks. When I did leave I did not appear to be the same man I was. I seemed harder, older, colder if that was at all possible. The stress of it all had thinned my full head of hair and the days without eating left my already thin body slightly gaunt. I moved again, created another false name, another life story. I worked horrible jobs for worse pay just to get by. I never stayed in one place for long.6

Years passed, the names and faces seem to be a blur now. My identities; Carl Malone, Andrew Branson, Michael Keller, Nathan Fowler. My victims; Alejandra, Nicolette, Vanessa, Simone, Claudia, Rachelle. Now Just bodies and bruises and blood buried in the ground and in my mind. No memories of first dates and last kisses. Only frightened screams and eerie silence. I thought that I would give up, stop running and accept my fate. That was until last week, when I saw her. She walked into the room and the world stopped for several seconds..there was only her, everything else disappeared. She was wearing red. A tight red dress that showed of her tiny frame... 7

and it was her color8

I can't help but think of Natalie when I look at her. Her eyes are a piercing blue, her hair long and dark. They could have been twins separated at birth. I have to have her. She will be mine. Tonight it will happen, But this time I will never let her go.9