Chapter Five

You feel like a celebrity. Everyone was talking about the dead cat in the mail.

You drive the mail truck delivering mail. If people thought that cat was creepy, imagine what I can do. You smile at the evil entering your mind.

You arrive at the hospital. Reaching into the bag, you pull out the letters and a package. Unfortunately, at the hospital, you have to bring in the mail. You hate this.

Stepping out from the truck, you slam the door behind you. People look at you awkwardly. You just huff past them. Once inside the hospital, the smell of bleach fills your nose.

You slap the mail down on the desk. And walk away.

"Have a nice day, jerk," says a young woman. You chuckle, flipping her off as you walk out. I hate people. Hate them. Hate them all.

You open your truck and climb in. You notice the young girl walking to her car. She had earplugs in her ear. Listening to music, likely, you thought.

She gets into her car and speeds away. You decided to follow her. She is a fast driver. You laugh. What am I going to do once I reach this girl?

You follow her for miles. It seems like. She finally pulls into a driveway at a lonely house in the country, miles from any other homes. This is the perfect spot. No one would see. You grin.

She looks scared. She doesn't get out of her car immediately. You look behind your seat and notice a hammer. You laugh. Picking up the hammer, you open the door to the truck and climb out.

Your feet plop on the ground. You stroll to her car, hiding the hammer behind your back. You approach her vehicle, and she rolls down her window.

" Don't be scared, ma'am. I want to apologize earlier for my actions," you say with a smile.

She smiles back and gets out of her car. "I am sorry too," she tells you.

She turns her back to grab her purse from the car. In the air, you hold the hammer. Strike. You think.

Her head is smashed by the hammer as you blast it against it. She falls to the ground. A pool of blood surrounds her. The site excites you. You dip your hands in the blood, licking it off your hands. The taste of the blood is fantastic.

You pick her up, flip her over your shoulder, and throw her into the back of the mail truck. Once you were also in the truck, you checked her plus. You are not shocked she is still alive. It would be better for her if she were still dead. You laugh.

I need to play this carefully. It was almost dinner time. You decided to run into the gas station to pick up a cold cut.

The sun had set by the time you reached home. You open the garage door and pull into the building. The girl begins to wake up. She was only mumbling.

You open the truck door. You pull the girl out of the truck and onto the floor. You close your eyes and imagine the blood. Everything excites you.

You grab your chainsaw out of the glass cabinet, holding all your tools. You choke the saw, and the smell of gasoline fills your nose. The load engine of the saw purrs.

The girl grabs her head. She is starting to be more conscious. This must happen now. Within a few flashes of the chainsaw, the girl's arms are sliced off. In the tiny garage, she screamed and cried for help.

Piece by piece, you saw the girl apart. It only takes moments. Her screams soon end. You pick up her head unattached from her body. You run your fingers through her hair. "It's better now, my sweet," you say with a laugh.