About Me

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Writer, soldier, thinker, and science fiction lover. I just can't seem to find a way to divide my adventurous self of constant outdoor activity and exercise from my nerdy self playing games and going to conventions. So why not just be both?

 I am a young professional living out of Tallahassee, Florida for the past five years. I have been on a deployment with the United States Army and continue to work outside of my other occupations to better myself mentally and physically. My passion for writing is driven by my passion for everything I find entertaining in life, and of course by my friends and family.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

One Level Below Hell

 Catherine walked the steamy streets. Seedy pawn shops, thrift stores, and a dollar theater the only attractions still grasping for life on the block.
 Turning down an alley the lights could not penetrate the cold dark. It had been the scene of a gruesome ordeal sometime more than a month ago. Catherine came to a stop where the body had been found. A streetwalker had reported the finding. A young woman, blonde hair, not natural, with her face sunken into a stagnant puddle. A deep wound below the sternum was found to be the cause of death. The trace amounts of chloroform proved that she was not the result of a pimp taking out vengeance. The removal of the eyes proved, that he had struck again. 
 The first victim, a woman in her mid twenties. Found in a park, a runner reporting it, the most common means of finding bodies. The feet and hands removed. Chloroform used, a slit throat to pull the life force from the body.
 The second victim, a male, found in a warehouse. The body wrapped neatly. The internal organs removed. Autopsy showed the victim was conscience and not sedated for the surgery. Filthy socks remained in the victim's mouth as a gag. 
 And now the third victim. 
 Catherine mused to herself, the killer must be quite charming. Perhaps physically sound, intellectually superior. After all, the cuts were done with surgeon precision. Maybe, maybe a perfectionist? 
 Catherine caught a glimpse of strand from the corner of her eye. A web, so intricately assembled. Its architect proudly in the center. Spiders, such perfect killers. So precise, yet a creator of chaos. Perhaps, in someway, the killer was a spider. 
 Catherine left the alley for the theater. Purchasing a ticket to some animated movie she headed for the screening room when, behind the concession a shine caught her eyes. A young woman working the concession stand. Catherine approached. The worker in her twenties, plain, unruly hair. Baggy around the waist. 
 But her complexion!
 To say Catherine was captivated was, an understatement. The worker's eyes shifted up to meet Catherine. 
 "Can I get you something?"  
 "Oh yes dear, please, um, something sweet."
 "Well I only got candy and soda."
 "That's not all you got."
 The worker looked at her quizzically for a moment, and then blushed.
 The poor thing, Catherine thought.
 "I'll take the Crunch bar please."
 The worker bent over reaching into the case for the candy bar. 
 "What's your name?" Catherine asked. The worker stood up with the candy bar.
 "Sam, my friends call me Sammy." 
 "Sammy, you have such a beautiful complexion." Sam blushed once more.
 "If only it weren't for the weight."
 "Oh so we aren't anorexic little bitches. Oh well." Sam's blush intensified. 
 "What's your name?" 
 "Ashley." Replied Catherine. "Sammy, w-would it, be, be alright if I gave you my number?"
 "Oh well, I don't..."
 "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were..."
 "Oh but I am! I'm sorry, I haven't, you know, come out or nothin'." Catherine couldn't care, she really wasn't. She wrote her number on a napkin and handed Sam the cloth. She walked away smiling, biting into her now open candy bar. She would enjoy the movie, but more so her thoughts on how to best skin a large woman.         

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