Victor shuffled the phone between his hands before finally responding. “She doesn’t know when to shut her mouth and…” he paused, but he could hear Ant’s breathing quicken. “She’s too curious for my taste.”
“You gotta watch out for those interferin’ bitches, they’ll get you into trouble every fuckin’ time. You gotta put her in her place before things get out of hand.”
Victor rolled his eyes. He seriously wasn’t going to take relationship advice from a known serial killer. “Well I can’t kill her, Ant, if that’s what you’re suggesting. My game has rules, unlike yours,” he sniped.
“Nobody said anything about murderin’. Christ in heaven, didn’t anyone teach you anything? You don’t gotta slay a cunt to shut her up. You just gotta kill her spirit; break her down, mentally and physically. If that doesn’t work, then beat the shit out of her. And if that doesn’t work…”
Victor had heard enough. “I get it. I’ll stick with my own methods. Anyway, I like her spirit.”
As soon as he let the statement slip from his mouth, he regretted it. What the hell was he thinking? He was tired and… God damn it.
“Jesus, Agent Cock Sucker, you’re losing your touch. Is the merciless Mr. Black getting soft in his old age?”
Victor cringed. He truly hated that Ant knew his secrets. “No one is getting soft and this conversation is over.”
***
Elsa held the manuscript in her hands and touched the binding. She suddenly felt as if she was being watched and panic inundated her. She just wanted to get the hell out of there and fast. She looked around the room for printer paper and then carefully untied the twine. Removing the cover page from the document, she placed it on top of the stack of blank sheets of paper and retied the string. No one would ever know it was a fake at first glance. She put the faux case study back in its place and tucked the real pages under her arm. She closed all the drawers and put everything else back in its place, and gave the room a once over to make sure that she had left no evidence of her visit.
The drive back to her apartment was excruciating. She found her eyes on the manuscript more often than they were on the road and her foot kept unintentionally pressing too hard on the gas. Twice she caught herself doing well over the speed limit. If she were to get pulled over and given a ticket, Victor would undoubtedly find out and it wouldn’t take him long to figure out why she was on this side of town.
She turned on her satellite radio for the distraction, tuning into an alternative rock station. An unfamiliar song came on and the strong bass and instrumental intro slowly began to erase from her mind the thoughts of the law she had just broken, and the shitty intrusion of privacy she was perpetrating on Victor.
When the words of the song finally broke through her trance-like state, it was as if Mr. Black had cued the song himself. She tapped the button to see the artist and title and I Will Possess Your Heart by Death Cab for Cutie flashed on the small screen. What the hell kind of creepy kismet was going on? She promptly turned the channel, not wanting to hear any version of a stalkers anthem.
Back in her apartment, she was too eager to get down to business to even take her jacket off. She sank into her couch and flipped over the first page.
Chapter 7 – Emily, Age 26. Profession: Graphic Designer.
Elsa had already read a small portion of his journal about this particular Chapter and found it odd the document read in reverse and started with the most recent subject as opposed to starting from the beginning. She was also frustrated that none of the notes written on her were present.
Prologue:
And so C7 begins. You found me at a local gathering and made your presence known. You have a reputation that I’m well aware of and though I’m not usually one to jump on the pussy bandwagon, something about you piqued my interest. If any Chapter has needed my assistance, it’s you. Your immature behavior to get my attention was only slightly amusing if not pathetic. Nonetheless, you’re my next project. We shall see if your ways can be changed.
The first lesson I shall attempt to teach you is self-restraint, though I suspect this may be a subject that will be a work in progress. First and foremost, your promiscuity must end. I will not tolerate being one in a long line of lovers. It is to be me and only me during our time together. Your sexual cleanliness must be proven before we can continue.
Pre-activity:
I was disappointed and more than a little annoyed to find out that you have an STD, though it doesn’t completely surprise me. Now it’s necessary that you be started on a regimen of antibiotics before we can begin our liaisons, only delaying our sexual activity. I will use this time to my advantage to watch you in your surroundings and learn your habits. Also it will help me to figure out exactly what I can do to make this endeavor successful. I hope you like to play rough, C7, because that’s precisely what I think you need.
Surveillance Notes:
Never have I seen such immaturity in a 26-year-old woman. In the span of a week, I’ve witnessed you drinking and driving twice, seen you get into a verbal altercation that nearly led to a fist fight with a cashier over the wrong change given, and observed you leaving from a coffee shop with a stranger to engage in oral sex in his car.
I’m shocked that you’ve gotten this far without having caused yourself or others physical harm or gotten your ass kicked for acting absurd.
What Elsa would’ve given to see a picture of Emily. Was she beautiful? What color were her eyes? Were they sad and expressive? Was she truly a reckless individual who needed help or was she just a normal, uninhibited woman? Elsa would never know. All she had to go on was Mr. Black’s notes and they were, to say the least, biased and twisted.
I must delve into your past to see what is causing you to act so recklessly. Have you been abused? For your and my sake, I hope not. I don’t need the hassle of trying to heal your mental wounds as that’s next to impossible. I know. If it comes to light that you have been abused in some way be it sexual or physical, I must conclude our brief interlude. Even though I can identify with your pain, I cannot condone your carelessness, regardless of your past. No matter what has happened, there is no excuse for unreasonable behavior. We all have to move on at some point and make the best of it.
Elsa stood and removed her coat, letting the words sink in as she glanced out the window nervously. She was only two pages in and already she knew Victor had been abused, but by whom? She remembered the detail of his mother having died of liver disease and the implications sent a shockwave through her. His mother was most likely an alcoholic. Her stomach churned. If she was going to continue reading, she needed wine, and lots of it.
***
Victor didn’t fall asleep until well after two. It was one of those restless, nearly sleepless nights where his brain wouldn’t fucking shut off. When he did sleep, his dreams were filled with disorganized, grisly images from the Cambridge case files – a 22-year-old stunning blonde in a state of rigor, duct-tape with skin cells gruesomely clinging to the adhesive, a discarded knife with dried blood, scalp and dark hair encrusted onto the metal, clouded hazel eyes, blue lips…
He woke early that Sunday from a nightmare, breathless and with his heart nearly pounding out of his chest. He rubbed his eyes and tried to recall the particulars, but they were already fading. In his dream, he was a serial-killer and his victims were his Chapters. One by one he had broken their hearts and then murdered each of them in a different way so as not to get caught. He couldn’t remember all the details, but he had bludgeoned the sad and irredeemable Seven, poisoned the gorgeous but temperamental Three, and sexually asphyxiated the strong husband and father of two, Four. His heart was still beating rapidly when a wave of nausea washed over him.