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Cole: March 2022

It’s been a boring ass day at work.

I’ve spent the day going back and forth between researching my next kill and checking over budget reports for the next shipments due in tomorrow. Spreadsheets, most of my life revolves around spreadsheets. I do like the organisation. It’s even something I use in my personal life from tracking my reading habits and what I watch on TV to tracking my kills. I make lists you see, it helps to keep myself focused. Mostly to stay ahead of law enforcement.

None of the bodies I’ve created have been found. My internet stalking and researching skills are developed enough now that I am confident that not even the police are aware that there is an active serial killer in the area. Well, aside from the actual serial killer, nicknamed the Rosemond Ripper who has been causing havoc these past 15 years. That’s not me and my kills are much more elegant in their execution and actual disposal of the bodies.

At one time I was curious about my rival, I did make some enquiries, but the crime scenes have been so messy, bodies left in a brutal way. It’s been confusing for law enforcement which is shockingly bad considering the lunatic that is loose within this very community. It made me think that my counterpart would get caught quickly and yet all these years later, the police are no closer.

At a few points they actively gaslit Rosemond, saying they believed it was not the work of one serial killer, but many unrelated violent crimes. A few men were arrested over the years, but no one was ever convicted. People in the community do live in fear.

The victims have been seemingly random and yet I know that’s never the case. The killer will have a very specific reason why they choose their victims even if it’s not obvious to authorities… yet. Someone will eventually figure out a pattern, in turn will lead to narrowing down suspects until they catch the individual. Which they will, no matter how smart a serial killer is, their arrogance always gets the better of them in the end. Or they have a psychotic break and change the pattern or go on a spree. Which usually results in capture or being killed.

Sometimes this makes me angry, feeling like the extra attention Rosemond is getting from the police will lead to my role being more difficult. It hasn’t so far but one can never be too careful. At the same time, it seems to be keeping the police from looking in my direction for too long, they can’t afford to with an actual maniac at large.

I have gone to great lengths to cover my tracks. It helps that the men I have been killing are those that the police probably don’t care much about. Not really. I’m sure that it’s more of an inconvenience and pile of paperwork than it is a genuine concern for the already convicted sex offenders.

Most already have existing drug or alcohol problems, which makes them easy to target. Also, a higher statistic for suicide, running away and overdoses whether accidental or intentional. Although they must register with the local council and social work as part of their release or probation. It turns out that my best source of information had once been my little crush.

I believe that Luna still works with the local council, still has access to files and records I could only dream off. She was unintentionally chatty about her job, and curious above her pay grade to get additional training in areas that she didn’t officially work in. This gave her access to very personal files about these offenders, including their home addresses. I would have loved to know specifically who they were and where these people lived. It would have made it easier, but she was able to tell me how often they attended her workplace. Having regular appointments with their social workers on set days (Tuesdays were nicknamed ‘paedo afternoon’ in her office). Luna would tell us all about particularly difficult people who would give even her the creeps.

She was regularly left on her own in the office. The security guard was apparently down the stairs and across the other side of the building. That had pissed me off to no end when she had told us one evening at her house, their house. She had been crying that time and spoke about how one man had the insolence to flash her his cock! There had been many others who made her feel extremely uncomfortable.

These men were sex offenders; violent and dangerous men. She had made a list of those men she had been left alone with to formally complain about the seriousness and danger she had been in. Nothing was ever done.

It had been so long since I had last spoken to Sundrop. I had thought about reaching out to her but something in me made me hold back. If she wanted to speak to me, then she would in her own time. Sundrop had been such a large part of my life and then boom, nothing, absolute radio silence. She would come around when she was ready.

I hoped.

I’ve missed watching her daily life on Snapchat where I followed her and she used to post everything she did, cooked or ate. Even if she wasn’t doing anything particularly interesting, it had been interesting to me. Truthfully, it was the best part of my day back then. Now, life was dull, quiet and colourless without her.

Looking at the picture online of the man who was to be my latest target, I thought about all the ways I would hurt him. I had become quite skilled at torture. I didn’t have to torture them. Extreme acts of violence are normally used to extract information.

I don’t do it for that reason, I know these men are guilty. Most of them were already charged; had been to prison either pleading guilty themselves or sentenced as such. I don’t need to know anything from them. I hurt them because it fixes something inside of me. Every scream, every incision, every time I see blood coming out of them, it builds me back up inside. I imagine it like a puzzle, every puzzle piece added makes up a clearer picture of who I am as a person. Without it I am empty and hollow.

Hurting them, torturing these men, makes me feel good.

There’s nothing like it.

Right now, as I sit at my desk, I am listening to a podcast about serial killers through my headphones. The bright, chipper voices of the two American women who host the show is a stark contrast to the sickening things discussed. It has an equally insensitive name, but I love it. It's my favourite. I found it accidentally and now I listen to it daily.

It helps relax and smooth me. I also wonder that maybe one day, if I am ever caught, will they discuss me on their show? Will others? Will I ever have a documentary, movie or books written about me?

I think given how many people I have killed; I may be one of the most successful serial killers in existence.

Along with my colleague, stealing the glory possibly for all their insanity. At least my bodies are clean and tidy. Unlike the theatrical mess that they leave their bodies in. Blood and bits and pieces everywhere apparently.

As if thinking of her conjured her from thin air, I see a message pop up on my work computer. Being the manager here, having my own office I am afforded a lot of privacy, so I had logged into most of my social media accounts on this PC. I would regularly flip through them all between working and stalking, so it was no surprise to receive a message.

What shocked me was who the message was from.

Sundrop.

“Holy fucking shit!”

I said the words out loud. My body froze, set my spine straight in a way I hadn’t been all day, hunched over the computer for most of the time. I had even forgotten to stop for lunch.

Rigid, every part of me went stiff and it took far too long to process what I had seen. It was a friend request from her on a social media site. A social media site that she had deleted her actual profile a few years ago. I know because I keep a check on these things. I have been keeping a check on her specifically.

This profile didn’t exist a few days ago. This is new.

Is it her?

Part of me is worried that it might not actually be her, it might be that piece of shit ex of hers she had gone offline because of. Hiding, that’s what she had been doing.

Before I could think about it too extensively, I click the webpage open and go to the request and stare at it a few more moments before clicking accept.

Of course I would accept it.

What the fuck.

And just like that, I feel like I’m a teenager again and seeing her for the first time. Remembering her dyed black hair, and the too thick black eyeliner. The overly skinny body and the big, round eyes. She’s a year younger than I am, had been at the same high school but we had no friends or classes in common. I’d watch for her around the school, which to my dismay wasn’t very often because she just didn’t seem to attend school all that much. Always had headphones on, that much has never changed. I think back to the chipped black nail polish and that look which promised death to anyone who disturbed her.

Kids in my class had whispered about her being a devil worshipper. She had then tippexed “Hail Satan” onto her black backpack one afternoon. I knew then she was someone who had the same humour as I did.

I wish I had gone up to her then and spoken to her, but I didn’t know how. I’m a lot more confident speaking to women now, but back then I could barely get out a few words. I did ok around most people but something about her just completely struck me down, stopped any speech from leaving my lips. Froze me in place like being sent a friend request did to me even now.

Before I can think about it any further, she sends an actual message

Luna: Hey, long time no speak, how are you?

What the fuck?

Just like that she wants to talk? After radio silence for… I think, counting back, it has been three years since I last spoke to her. Ok, she’s had a rough three years but I’m kinda pissed she cut everyone off. Anyone else, sure, but me? She fucking cut me off for three years.

You could have reached out to her.

She probably would have appreciated it.

I did think about it, often.

But you didn’t. Maybe she needed you to.

I keep my answers clipped, talking but not going into detail as there’s still a part of me that wonders if it’s even her. That seems more logical than the alternative, that she wants to speak to me.

She keeps messaging first and is making small talk with me. It seems a little awkward and a bit forced. Is she trying to flirt with me? It’s always a bit lost on me when people are coming onto me. I’m sure we’ve had this conversation before, I remember her sitting across from me at her solid oak table. The one at her old house as we used to chat away about so much nonsense. Like how to know if someone is flirting with you? What does it mean when someone randomly adds you on social media and makes silly small talk about nothing?

Is she flirting with me?

This is almost… Adorable.

We talk tv shows because like a lot of people through lockdown, I watched a lot of TV, and she asks for recommendations. We don’t have similar tastes at all from what I remember or what she’s telling me now. It’s hard talking to her again because part of me resents her for the lack of communication, cutting me off like everyone else. As if to her, I was as expendable as everyone else.

I do understand why she did it. I just don’t like that she did it to me .

Somehow, we end up watching a tv show together, messaging each other about it. She’s playing catch up since I’m a few episodes ahead, it’s kinda fun to be honest. It’s easy to talk to her, almost like it’s not been three years since she last spoke to me. It’s also a show with a lot of fucking in it, which gets us talking about sex.

It’s easy to fall into it and my messages get a bit longer, faster to reply. She replies quickly and keeps the conversation going when I let it die out a little. I’m trying to see how much effort she’s willing to put into this. Why is she messaging me like we’re buddies suddenly?

She tells me she’s buying a device so she can stream tv easier and is asking a lot of questions about it. I had recommended it to her after all. She sends me a picture of it when it arrives. It’s almost like she’s hinting at me to what? Come around and set it up for her? It’s strange because she’s perfectly capable of doing that herself, of everyone I know, Luna has always had an interest in computers and technology. It doesn’t seem right that she’s needing assistance with something like this. She’s also not asking outright and that’s not like her either. I remember her being straight to the point and she almost seems nervous, unsure of herself.

I’m enjoying talking to her though, I start getting an anxious build up in my chest between messages. Any time she’s quiet, I wonder if this is the last time I’ll hear from her. Maybe she’s remembered who she’s talking to and has somehow made a mistake reaching out to me.

The conversation does descend into sex quickly. She asks me whether I am seeing anyone, it’s done casually enough but still, there’s a little edge to it. I tell her no and I’m being honest, there isn’t anyone in my life now. I’ve dated, I have a routine with dating women occasionally, it would be strange if I as a white male in my late 30s were permanently single. So, from time to time, I do date someone, if for no other reason than to keep up appearances.

Right now, though, there isn’t anyone. I’ve been dedicating myself to my actual day time job and to perfecting my killing. It takes a lot of mental and physical energy to keep on top of stalking, killing and disposing a body. It is also essential to how I live my life. It’s not a choice I have, not really.

The next day we end up talking about one of our friends, Rebecca;

Luna: Did you ever have sex with her, I know how much Graham kept pushing you too. You know, make sure she had fucked everyone in the group

Me: No, we chatted a bit. She did offer. I didn’t go through with it.

Luna: Why?

Me: I didn’t want to

I’m not lying to her, despite Rebecca nearly throwing herself at me, I didn’t go through with it even though at the time I did wonder if I should. Something stopped me though, maybe the fact that Rebecca was fucking anyone and everyone she could. There was something nasty about that to me. Not slut shaming her, good for her for going after what she wanted and having a good time with it.

She was in a relationship herself though, always going on about how badly her partner treated her. Yet from what I could see, she made no attempt to spend any time with him, always going off out specifically with Graham who she was also fucking behind Luna’s back. Rebecca cheated on her partner with anyone, constantly.

So, there was always something off about Rebecca to me. It did not make me want to stick my dick inside of her, even in an act of desperation.

I don’t know why I volunteer the next bit of my soul.

Me: I haven’t had sex with anyone in years.

Luna: Really? That surprises me

Me: How?

Luna: Because you’re really hot!

She has me laughing as it’s so unexpected! The fuck did she just say? I must look at the message a few times to make sure I’m seeing it right. Part of me now believes that yes, this is her pathetic attempt to flirt which she is completely awful at. I never believed that Sundrop would think that I was hot?

She told me about the guy she last dated. I know she last had sex with him in January which enrages me. Maybe I can find out who he is. She seems very chatty. Still, I want to see how much she is willing to say.

Me: So, the last time you had sex was in January?

Luna: Yeah, I only had sex with him a few times. I mean, it was reasonably good, but I don’t know

Me: You don’t know? What?

Luna: It’s just, it wasn’t a lot and I’m not sure how I was and honestly, my confidence has been knocked a bit, and I feel extremely out of practice

Me: Out of practice of what? Sucking dick, is it not like riding a bike? Riding a dick??

Luna: Maybe, I don’t know. I’d like someone to have sex with more regularly so I can get my confidence back

Me: And practise sucking dick

Luna: Yes, I need a dick to practice on

Me: And do you want to practise on my dick?

Luna: Well, maybe… if you’d want me to?

Shit. Did my Luna, the object of my lustful, lifelong fantasies, want my dick?

Mine?

I had to check the profile pic, the contact, the way she spoke… Is this Luna? Sundrop? Luna Scott? It couldn’t be? I genuinely sat at my desk in shock because what the fuck? I was saying that a lot more regularly now. I could not wrap my head around how these events were unfolding.

She wanted my dick?

Just my dick or more? Does she want me ?

I didn’t give myself a chance to chicken out and messaged back, trying and hoping for cool and collected.

Me: You can have my dick to practice on

The returning message was mainly a succession of heart eyed emojis with smiley face emojis. She was happy with my answer, I had done something right.

Fuckkk…

Conversation between us heats up almost immediately. We dive into the darkest depths of our dirtiest fantasies. I’ve known Luna a long time, I knew a little of what she liked but at the same time, over decades, you forget a bit. I had grown used to the negative way her ex had spoken about her, still did every chance he got. Plus, people grow up and she wasn’t a horny teenager anymore. No, apparently, she was an extremely horny mid-thirties year old with a list of kinks longer than my arm. I was shocked and I was turned on by her.

Sex is one thing; it was safe enough to talk about.

There was no talk about feelings though, which was fine now. I wasn’t sure how I'd navigate that if it came up because I’ve never understood how I felt about Luna.

It’s Friday night I’m at Frankie's house and we’ve been having a few drinks, nothing over the top and have been playing a board game. This is something we do every week. Ever since I had that breakdown all those years ago, the boys refuse to let me sit in my flat alone too often. It feels like they take turns babysitting me. Which would be nice if it wasn’t for the fact that I enjoy being alone.

Luna used to force me out to hers on Friday or Saturday nights AND the boys would take over the other night so both were usually busy. I still hung around with Graham, but it was more once a month now than weekly. I was glad because without Luna, he was a million times a bigger cunt. It was as if losing his punching bag of a girlfriend had made him angry, having nowhere else to channel his energy and anger.

She wasn’t there to balance his fucked-up emotions.

And she never would be again.

I reasoned with myself that it was better, for her sake, to keep in with Graham. He was going through the court case and was a wealth of information I might need to know for one day if I am ever caught. But more so because I was convinced that he would eventually slip up and admit something about his time with Luna. Or at least I’d have the heads up if he ever did think about harming her again. I made myself believe I was helping her by being able to get involved if he ever tried to act against her. He would not survive it if he did.

Tonight was just a trip to Frankie’s; it was enjoyable enough. Luna wasn’t texting much when she knew I was out with friends. Kept saying she didn’t want to bother me and to have fun with my friend. It felt a little odd because I’ve always known her to be in one’s face with her wants and needs being put first. I wasn’t sure what that was about. Maybe she had grown up a little and just wasn’t as selfish as she used to be. Still, I found myself constantly checking my phone seeing that she had in fact left me alone to have a nice evening with Frankie. I was enjoying talking to her, I missed her when she wasn’t bombarding my phone and telling me all the fantasies, especially the ones she had about me.

Feeling emboldened by the alcohol which I rarely drank these days, I sent her a message.

Me: Hey gorgeous, how is your evening?

Luna: Hey! I’ve just been reading, how's it going with Frankie?

Me: Oh, he’s kicking my ass at Game of Thrones Monopoly

Luna: You’re getting your ass beat at Monopoly? You suck! How can you lose at Monopoly? And to Frankie of all people???

Me: I was hoping for sympathy! Where’s my sympathy?

Luna: Sympathy? From me? Fuck off! Get back in the game and kick his ass!

Me: Naah, I’m well going to lose

Luna: I can’t believe the guy I like is bad at monopoly. I’m ashamed!

Me: what do you mean, like?

Luna: What?

Me: You like me? Like, like me, like me???

Luna: I’ve always liked you Cole

I almost fall out of my fucking seat at the words as they appear on my screen. She can’t flirt for shit, but she can set off a bomb inside my chest and skull. What the absolute fuck?

I say it then, emboldened by the mobile phone that allows me to say it without having to see her reaction, to see her face. Witness her rejection of me in real time.

Me: So, we could have been together all this time?

She sends some pleading emojis and breaks my fucking heart

Luna: If you had asked me out, I would have said yes

I’m done, I’m dead. I’m going to spontaneously combust and implode all at the same time. My lifelong crush, my obsession, the one I have loved unconditionally and never been surer of anything in my pathetic fucking existence has just told me something I never actually thought I’d hear.

I must leave Frankie’s at that point; I need the fresh air. Telling him I’m suddenly tired and want to go home to bed, I say goodbye and leave him to tidy up the mess we’ve made.

Then I tell Luna I’ve just started walking home and I need to get home before replying because honestly, I can’t think properly.

Luna: Ok

She says and sends me a little purple heart.

Eventually I do get home, being a stupid fucking prick and walking because of course I didn’t drive because I knew I’d be drinking. It feels like it’s fucking miles away because it is.

Before I can even take of my fucking trainers, kicking them off as I send the message that kills me and will probably later regret,

Me: I’ve always had feelings for you

I want to scream and throw my phone across the room because in all seriousness I do not have the emotional maturity to deal with this situation. The phone pings, she replies.

Luna: Yeah???

Me: Yes, Sundrop, I’ve always had feelings for you

Luna: So, you’d like to date me then?

No, I’d prefer to keep you at arm's length, and have you remained as an object of my filthiest daydreams and fantasies but instead I think fuck it. To hell with caution because I never planned on this ever actually happening.

Me: Yes, I want to date you, I want to take you out and I want to kiss you

Luna: Really?

A succession of smiley faces then.

Me: Yes, and I want to fuck you too, make you mine

At this moment, I am confident, and I mean what I’m telling her. I can make this work, for her, I will make this work. I will not waste the opportunity I’ve been handed here. She might have had to create this magic between us by getting back in touch, but I’ll lead. I’ll do whatever it takes to make her feel safe.

Luna: I’d like that a lot, Cole