Tuesday, 30 April 2013
I fell sound asleep with the gentle swaying of my boat.
All I remember was a crashing sound as the boat hit something, banging my head against the mast. Then nothing until I heard the waves splashing against the hull as I woke. I had come aground on an island, with the water washing over me, half in and half out of the water, like my boat. I felt hot, my head hurt, as I tried to get up from the warm salty sea. The sun was shining brightly overhead.
Remembering the warnings from the man who had sold me the boat, him giving me charts to navigate this archipelago, telling me there were many atolls and to keep the charts for a secure guide. This was my first time alone on the boat as I had always had people with me, I was apprehensive and not that sure of myself.
Looking around all I could see was glistening blue sea, white sand and lush green trees for miles, no landmarks and the only sound was my boat trying to move out into the surf without me at the helm. I pulled hard at the ropes and finally got the boat partly up on the sand. Grabbing my anchor I secured it to a large rock, hoping it would dig in with the tide. Small crabs scurried away as I sat down to catch my breath. I was amazed at all the different types of shells lying beside me in the sand. I listened to a tiny conch. Shell collectors would love this place.
I retrieved some dry clothes, food and water from the cabin, and headed up under the trees to find some shade from the scorching sun. I could see and hear birds flitting from tree to tree singing and squawking to each other. Noisy gulls hunted between the waves. Looking up I could see papaya, mangoes and coconuts hanging heavily on the branches. It seemed like hundreds of monkeys swinging from trees, jabbering away with each other, keeping me at a distance. Were they going to be my only company? Would they share their fruit with me? Doubt nagged at me.
I threw a shirt down, lying back on the sand, warmed but out of the sun. Gazing out to azure waters I pondered, about this paradise I had found. This had not been my destination. When I had started out, my idea had been to survive without the help of friends and I wanted to prove to myself that I could be strong alone on the boat for my holidays and look for inner strength within me. This was to be my therapy. I wanted to start being a leader not a follower. Perhaps if only to lead myself. I drifted into the lull of the waves.
When I woke up the sun was setting, a red sky still bright in the distance. While I dozed, the monkeys had taken my food. Teaching me a good lesson, never leave food unattended. Those scavengers had a good meal that I was looking forward to enjoying later.
Chills sent shivers through my body and I knew I had to get some things from the boat for the night ahead. I retrieved blankets, a snack, looking for a place to tuck in, starting a fire with some twigs and driftwood I had gathered, it would keep me warm and cosy for the looming night ahead. I sat and enjoyed the quiet, as everyone here seemed to retire early. This was becoming an adventure, a challenge, and excitement for me.
I felt calm, tranquil and relaxed looking up at the sparkling stars, so clear, without any illuminations, a rising half moon began lighting up the water. The waves seemed to dance before my eyes. Tomorrow would be a day of gathering wood and getting fruit from the trees. I would leave the provisions in the boat so they would be safe from the pilferers.
I would search the island to see what the rest of this beautiful place had to offer. Were there any other inhabitants or animals on the other side? My elation and anticipation grew. A bit of trepidation was also in the back of my mind. My thoughts starting to organize. Could I survive here on my own if nobody came past? I certainly could get used to these glorious surroundings.The sounds of the ocean, swishing against the shores, gently lulling me into a deep sound sleep.
The squawking of birds woke me before dawn. It was going to be a great day to explore the ambiance that lay at my feet. I ate some fruit after listening to the monkeys show that they did not like me not sharing my breakfast with them. Taking my bottled water and heading off to comb the area, I came across a long pole that would be perfect for a walking stick. I had not gone far when two good size lizards ran across my path, wandering farther, I came upon a profusion of different flowers blooming, hibiscus, orchids and the most beautiful Birds of Paradise, all close as I wandered. The fragrance followed me. Circling the island I never came across anything, except a few scurrying mice looking for food.
I settled into a routine getting wood, picking some fruit and having a swim to refresh my soul, checking to make sure my boat had not moved. I sat and contemplated my life and started to wonder how long I could survive here if nobody came past this tiny atoll in a vast sea. This was a much happier place than I had left behind. Listening to the birds looking out at the ocean, I felt extremely content as I dozed off and on through the afternoon.
Waking, I looked out to see a ship on the horizon.
Just not sure I wanted to be rescued this soon.
Saturday, 27 April 2013
I went on a flight last night.
This place looked different from my usual out of body experiences.
I found myself floating alone, nobody around to see or converse with. Very strange as there are always other floating souls to make it pleasurable. Something was very wrong with this dark ominous scene. When I usually floated around the clouds were soft, foamy and light. Not tonight, these clouds were black with a dismal darkness that descended upon my astral space. A paranormal mysterious sensation ran through my being, quickly leaving my body in turmoil.
I felt a cool breeze pass close to my ear. My eyes caught a physical being staring back at me, what I thought had piercing black eyes, a large dark flowing beard, with a sinister cloak swaying in a grey puff of air as it moved farther away from me. I was transfixed until it disappeared into the obscurity of the night sky, leaving my body feeling awakened and strangely aroused in the pit of my stomach.
That is when my spirit friends arrived and surrounded me, trying to guide me away. I wanted to stay and investigate the strangely enticing feeling that had come over me when this ethereal being came past me. They, gathering so close I had to move when they did, pushed me farther each time.
I tried to float towards the vanishing figure-like illusion. My friendly spirit beings kept me encircled, telling me I did not want to enter into an exchange of any kind with an evil entity. It would suck me into its esoteric and arcane ways.
In the distance I could see and feel that magnetic sphere still trying to pull me away from my little spirit friends, and the attraction was getting stronger, the evil spirit drawing me closer until I could now see murky intense eyes drilling through my soul from the darkness of the rolling clouds. He wanted me.
A foreboding excitement washed over me.
I finally acquiesced to my good spirits and decided to go home.
Thunder and lightning exploded, then a torrential rain began.
Would I be afraid to go back?
I think not.
Saturday, 20 April 2013
When analyzing a serial killer many blame a bad childhood. I don’t agree.
Raised with two parents, never beaten or abused, normal siblings who were older and showed love and caring towards me, I was maybe a bit spoiled.
At an early age, I showed an interest in martial arts and excelled in everything athletic. In my late teens my interest in knives and guns began to grow. I traveled to all the gun shows in my area, interested in anything to do with self-protection.
Then began my collection when a dealer sold me a Ruger SR9 with a grin and no questions asked. I went home and fondled it, thrilled with the pistol to the point of lust.
I read only about murder and chaos. My shelves filled with books on every subject to do with violent death that one could imagine. I read in detail when a murder occurred, even went to trials of people who had committed them. You could say I was obsessed with killing.
My first introduction was when a co-worker turned against me when a promotion came up, she got it instead of me.
I watched her for weeks, obsessing, one night I followed her home, waiting until I saw her light come on in her apartment. Giving her time to settle, I rang up, she sounded surprised but let me in.
When she opened her door, I pulled my gun telling her not to scream or make a sound. Her face went blank, not understanding what I was doing. Her pleading was getting on my nerves so I tied her up and taped her mouth. Her eyes bugged out, nothing but garbled noise came from her throat. I took out my knife and slashed off her blouse and bra. Now her eyes were full of fear. I wanted her to feel the distress and embarrassment that I felt not getting the promotion. My promotion.
She had poured herself a glass of wine. I put gloves on and drank it down in one gulp, then started to drink from the bottle as she whimpered, eyes pleading. The knife slid in so slowly she was hardly aware until it had punctured her lungs and the blood started to flow onto the floor. I sat and watched as her body went limp, her eyes a blank stare, then nothing. My heart was throbbing with a new pleasure. I took the glass and wine bottle with me. Never leave any evidence was to be my motto. I never kept any newspapers in my apartment to do with my killings either.
I became a hunting creature driving around late at night looking for opportunities. Women alone late at night, leaving bars on their own, hitchhikers. Vulnerable women were easy targets, very trusting and easy to start a conversation with.
One that comes to mind was an older woman who needed help with her groceries. She was so happy to have someone to talk to and invited me in for tea. She was spunky and lasted hours after I slit her wrists. I killed her stupid sniffing dog and purring cat while she watched. She never pleaded or spoke the whole time I was in her house. Her grey sad eyes just watching with disbelief.
I had fixated on women to kill but thought I would like the bigger challenge of men who would fight harder to stay alive. Therefore, I set out looking for the perfect targets. I came across one young man sitting on a park bench as dusk was arriving. He took a long time to die as I shot him up close. I thought he would never expire until I finally had to finish him off with my knife, not wanting anyone to hear two shots. I left him with an odd surprised look on his face as he started to slump over and looked like he was just sleeping.
My kills were getting too easy. I was getting bored, needing more excitement from my hobby. I would go back to my dojo as there were many well-trained men and women to pick from, knowing I would get a better combative struggle and fight before I slowly took them down. I always had the element of surprise.
The newspapers said the police had no suspects for the rash of killings. They released pictures of the victims who had died in the last six months under suspicious circumstances. Twenty homocides, my count was twenty-five. They had not yet found five of my bodies.
Maybe I should let them know.
The police kept arresting known violent criminals and having to let them go, unable to accumulate any evidence to keep them.
Maybe I should let them know.
The police kept arresting known violent criminals and having to let them go, unable to accumulate any evidence to keep them.
No women were ever arrested.
Tuesday, 16 April 2013
I was going back to my parents' cabin that had sat empty since they passed over ten years ago. Amid the trees with a deck overlooking a small lake. At least that is how I remember it as it was many years since I had been up there.
My intention was to do some writing and be on my own for the month of July. I had been going through a traumatic divorce when my lawyer husband had been shot in a mugging. Now after everything was settled I wanted to start over after twenty years of a brutal marriage that had many difficulties. And now no one was going to ruin this holiday.
I set off for the six-hour drive with the sun shining, not a cloud around. Turning on the radio I settling into a rhythm, keeping the car on cruise control. Not wanting any speeding tickets to spoil this gorgeous morning. I felt free and happy for the first time in years.
The last store came into sight. I stopped for a coffee and a few essentials. The fellow was very friendly and told me his parents had retired and now he ran it. If I needed help with anything, just ask. He packed my things in a bag and stuffed in the local paper.
Turning off at the junction, I watched for the old road leading to the cabin. In ten years not much had changed, just thicker brush and the gravel road narrower and crumbling some, but I was still able to manoeuvre my car with the shrubbery only hitting the sides of the doors.
The first view of the cabin brought so many memories of past years when we would spend our summers here, the deep indigo lake tranquil with not a ripple. Just as my mind had envisioned for the past ten or so years. Not a sound except birds twittering from the trees. It was as if their friendly chatter was welcoming me home. I noticed a bird feeder on a tree. It was full of seed. Very odd. Obviously somebody had been here recently. The woodpile was full and freshly chopped and piled.
Must have been visitors through the spring. We had no other relatives on either side of the family. Maybe one of Dads old friends? I pulled the key from my purse and headed towards the front door in much anticipation. The cabin was clean, almost pristine as I went through to the two bedrooms, kitchen and bathroom.
The place had a lived in look as I opened the kitchen cupboards, seeing canned food stacked neatly. The icebox was cool and this gave me some concern. It must be one of Dad’s friends as a few would come up here hunting when he was alive.
I poured a glass of wine and went onto the porch, taking the paper with me. Sipping the wine, thinking I should have gotten ice at the store. I idly flipped through the paper, watching the serene lake view, so blue just like I remembered. It was uncivilized and time had forgotten this corner of the world, until a picture of a man stood out on a back page, warning people in the area to watch out for him. He was a suspect in the violent murder of his wife and her sister and had been missing for months.
I wanted to sit to enjoy the scenery but needed to organize, so headed for the kitchen to put things away, taking the cupboards that were empty, thinking that my Dad's friends may still show up. In the small bedroom, there was a sleeping bag on the bed so I picked the other one and threw my bedding down. The bathroom was another quandary so I emptied out what was there and found a bag to put it in. Put my own things in the cabinet. Done, I went back to the kitchen to attend to my growling stomach.
The sun was beginning to set over the lake. Yes, I remembered the sunsets and the restless feeling left me. I made myself scrambled eggs over toast. I would get ice tomorrow. Taking my wine and dinner outside, I sat reminiscing and looking forward to the month ahead. The wine was making me sleepy so I headed inside, locked the door behind me and made up my bed. I fell into a sound sleep quickly from the fresh air and my long day.
I awoke in the darkness with the rattle of something outside my window. Footsteps creeping along with a slight dragging noise. I crept to the window, listened, not making a sound. Was it an animal? Many different wild creatures roamed these parts day and night. Something was definitely out there moving closer. As I was thinking where I had put my gun, I heard a key inserted in the back door. The noise had been human. I looked around for something else to protect me. Nothing.
The person had something wrong with his foot. I could hear it slide across the floor as he came closer to the bedroom. The door squeaked open and there stood the man whose picture I had seen in the paper! With a rifle under his arm. I screamed, knowing nobody would hear me.
Before I knew it he had dragged me into the kitchen and tied me to a chair. He remained quiet, not answering my frantic questions. Only started opening cans, heating them on the stove. I watched as he stuffed his mouth with food, not saying a thing to me. He moved his plate to the sink and washed his dishes, putting them away neatly. He had to be the one living here, not an old friend. How naive I had been.I tried starting a conversation, apologizing for interrupting his stay and said that I was willing to pack my things and leave.
He picked up the paper, saw his picture at my open page and a menacing look came over his face. He said he could not let me go, as I knew who he was. His piercing eyes darkened as they roamed over my body, I knew then he was forming other deadly ideas.
I knew he would not have had contact with women for months. I asked if I could use the bathroom, he first said no, pleading, he relented saying to leave the door ajar. He untied me, warning me not to try anything and told me to hurry as he had plans for me. I ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. My hands shaking. My gun was still in my makeup case. I fumbled with the zipper and heard his footscrape across the wood floor. As the door crashed in I grabbed the gun, letting the safety off, raised it and aimed. With shock on his face, he started to back up. Glancing at his rifle against the wall.
No one was going to ruin my holiday.
Sunday, 14 April 2013
None of my friends wanted to run this beautiful night, the moon was full the stars sparkled and my energy intensity was soaring. I had to get out for a jog before I exploded. My nerves felt frayed from the entire trauma that was going on this week at work.
Even my dog did not want to move from his comfort zone on his mattress. He just put his head down and would not look at me when I coaxed. Feeling dejected I tied my runners, grabbed my keys, and off I went.
I had been running for an hour and felt exhilarated and had gotten my second wind when I came upon a curve that took me a bit off the main path and passed a clump of trees. I knew this route so well, I was about ten minutes from my favorite cafe. Tonight I would stop for a latte.
It was the rustle of the trees, which alerted me first, a dark haired man came from behind the trees naked, with a knife in his hand, not saying a word just motioning me closer. Instinct took over I looked around, no one in sight. My mind processed the scenario, he was big, strong, but looked out of shape. Could I outrun this crazy man?
I edged away asking him what he wanted, and then took off at a sprint, so intense on getting far away quickly as possible. I did not even look back but could hear his loud footsteps behind me. He had taken off his cloths but not his shoes. I had miscalculated the shape he was in, as he was gaining on me from pure male strength.
I was running full out and still too far away from where anyone would hear me. His breathing was getting shallow and sounded like he was running out of power. Was I just being optimistic?
That is when I felt a sharp pain in my back; he had thrown his knife and got me in my lower back. The throbbing was intense and I could feel the blood as my shirt became wet. I was starting to feel light headed as I bent over twisting to try to turn and take the knife from my back. The more I struggled to reach behind me the more the blood came, I felt I was going to pass out, this maniac was going to kill me.
I could hear him getting closer, and then he spoke for the first time, cursing under his breath. I looked up to see him above me as I tried to get to my feet, finally feeling the knife come free from my body. He tried to grab the knife from my hand as I turned towards him I knew I was fighting for my life. I slashed towards his face; his head ducked and was coming up with his fist clenched. The horror in his eyes, as he saw and felt the knife protrude from his jugular. He died in seconds, it was his blood spurting on the ground, not mine. Scrambling to my feet the shock took hold and my body started to shake, I had killed this pathetic man.
Will I jog alone again, probably?
The next time I would have his knife to protect me.