Evil phone sex. I like the way it sounds. E V I L. That describes me. Once, when my mother took me to a shrink, the doctor said I did not show any classic sociopathic tendencies. Well, that’s because I do not fit any mold. Most serial killers got a taste for torture when they were schoolboys because they tortured animals. Not me. I love animals more than humans. I would kill you to save a squirrel. And I am not joking.
I could never hurt an animal. But I do not have any issues hurting people. My first victim, I killed accidentally. My schoolgirl bully. I stabbed her in the woods when she followed me home from school to torment me. My grandpa covered it up. Still to this day, the local police have her listed as a missing person. My grandpa taught me everything I know about killing. And he taught me how to get away with it. Serial killers get caught because they have a pattern. To the cops, my snuff sex deaths appear random. No connection. Most of my victims never get found.
I Respect Animals, It is People I Loathe
The key to my success? Wildlife. My accomplices. I feed victims to the bears and coyotes and other wildlife that lives in the woods behind my kill shack. Thus, why I am kind to animals. They help me in so many ways. My kill shack appears quaint on the outside. Remote. Surrounded by nature. No wifi. Solar generated power. Well water. On the inside? I think my cabin appears to be something straight out of a horror movie like The Evil Dead. So many souls haunt those walls. But I am impervious to ghosts.
The smell of death, I find intoxicating. The splatter of blood on the walls and floors reminds me of each kill. Sometimes, I lay on the floor masturbating on the blood-soaked floor remembering a particular kill. Maybe, if you prove yourself worthy, I can take you to my kill shack. Would you like to see where I do my best work? Would you enjoy being my accomplice phone sex partner? Or perhaps, you would prefer to die in my kill shack?