When I was just a little girl, I was different. My parents knew it. School teachers new it. Everyone knew it. While other girls my age wanted to be Disney princesses, I wanted to be knife wielding psychopath. Girls my age idolized nurses and mothers and teachers. They had the hots for the Jonas Brothers and One Direction members. I idolized Ted Bundy, the Green River Killer, Charles Manson and Ed Gein. Many people called me a bad seed or Satan’s spawn. I had no friends. My imaginary friends were Norman, Michael, Chucky and Freddy. They taught me killing was how to rid the world of bad parents, narcissists vacuous Barbies, bastards and whores.
I am a snuff sex bitch. I was not always as skilled as I am now, however. I honed my sadistic skills over the years thanks to research and inspiration from the world’s notorious serial killers. When I first started killing, I was unorganized, impulsive, and messy. Now, I am meticulous. I study my prey. I learn their habits and routine. I have a plan. I know how to dispose of the body. I know how to not leave any DNA evidence. I know who to kill and where. I do not shit where I eat. I do not kill out of impulse or anger. I kill for sport, pleasure, and financial gain.
I am the perfect accomplice phone sex partner for all your murderous fantasies. I prefer knife play with my victims, but variety is how I never being caught. I have a large arsenal of killing tools: knives, guns, acid, baseball bats, crow bars hammers, rope, blowtorch, chainsaw, poisons and my bare hands. I can be a great partner in crime. I take all the risk, clean up the mess and you just get to go alone for the wild ride.