Funhouse
11-09-2011, 10:22 PM
Summary: Removed for entertainment's sake.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
As soon as I saw the girl, I knew that she was worth taking interest in. She was not beautiful, yet she didn't stray far from it. She had long black hair that lingered around the midsection of her back. She was an average height for a girl her age, about 5'6". She had a moderate face. She had just moved here into my city, and joined my school mid-year. This brought attention to her, inlcuding my own attention. If she had moved during the summer and joined school normally, this all could have been avoided.
It all begins with a normal school day. I go to my first period class, relax, and everything is just like it was the day before. This was until a girl who I didn't recognize entered the class room. She talked with the teacher momentarilly, and then sat in the empty seat in front of me. The teacher announced that her name was Anne, and that she had just moved her. Anne. I would remember that name for a long time.
Hours later, it was between classes, and everyone was rushing to their next class. Of these people, Anne and I were included. I saw her. The halls were empty after a few minutes, with only her searching for her next class and myself watching and persuing her. I decided that it was the time to confront her.
I broke into a run, nearing her quickly and colliding with her left shoulder. She dropped all of her books and almost fell over.
"········! Are you okay?" I exclaimed in as convincing of a tone that I could.
"That's alright. I'm alright." she responded.
I helped her pick up her books and introduced myself to her. We were now mutually acquainted with each other. I quickly left, and that was the last time I spoke to her for a week.
. . .
I spent the week after my confrontation watching her, observing her. I noted the classes she went to, the people she associated with, the direction she walks after school is dismissed, and various other small things. After 8 days, I had developed an attraction to her, a light obsession. It was not the type of attraction that would be considered intimate or sexual, it was simply an attraction.
It was the 9th day when I began what would be known as my stalking. When Anne left school for home, I took it upon myself to follow her, doing my best to maintain a hidden profile. I followed to her home, and I stood in front of it and stared. I inspected every detail that I could find. I identified what windows went to what rooms, which rooms was hers, and so on.
. . .
It was the 12th day when I carved a mask out of a block of wood. I ensured that it would fit my face perfectly. It was then painted black on the outside. Sunglass lenses were inserted in place of the eye holes. There was no mouth hole, but two holes for my nostrils to breathe through.
It would be another 3 days before I would wear this mask.
. . .
It was the 15th day. I wore my mask, along with all black clothing. I walked to her house, approximately 8 miles away. I left at 6:14 PM and arrived at 9:43 PM. I stood at the side of her house, at her window that looked into her room. I had a perfect view over her desk, her bed, her entire room. I watched her do her homework and brose the internet until 12:33 AM, when she went to bed. I watched her sleep for one hour and three minutes, exactly. I then walked home. This became a nightly routine. I watched her for 37 days without any problems. The 38th day was different.
. . .
On the 38th day, I arrived at her house at 10:17 PM. There was a ar outside of her house. A visitor. As I took my position at her window, I soon realized who the visitor was.
Anne had invited a boy to her house. They were on her bed. They were going to have sex.
This was unacceptable. Rage surged throughout my body. I tripped and made a sudden movement. The boy saw something in the window. His attention quickly changed from focusing on her to being scared. He became paranoid and was unable to have sex with her. He left soon after. He would soon after come up missing. She would never again have a boy at her house. This is the origin of her paranoia that would prove to be her downfall. If she had just not invited him over, he wouldn't be at the bottom of a lake, and all of this could have been avoided.
. . .
On the 53rd day, Anne had become a nervous wreck. Her paranoia had risen dramatically. Since the incident with her boyfriend, I had made my presence to her clear. I would knock on her windows while she's predisposed. I haunted her mind. She couldn't sleep without significant sedation from sleeping medication. It was time to enter her life.
The 54th day, I approached her at school and began talking to her, branching off of our mutual acqaintance that we had gathered. I painted a mask of friendliness and care, which she easily bought. After a brief 5-10 minute talk, we had become friends and had scheduled to go to her house that night. I assume that her intentions were far from positive.
When I got to her house, I dismissed her sexual and intimate ideas. I asked her a few questions related to our studies, and left. I would enter her house again soon.
. . .
On the 68th day, I changed my nightly routine. By now, I had stolen her house key and she had made a copy of it. We had become very good friends. As far as she was concerned, I was the only person who didn't think of her as a paranoid schizophrenic. It was my time.
That night, I casually opened her door with my stolen key and entered her house. I entered her room where she lay, sedated by her sleeping medication, unable to be aware of what's happening to her. I wore my mask. I wore normal clothing, without gloves. I watched her sleep, her slumber influencing my calm and collected mood. I watched her for a total of 3 hours and 4 minutes. I left, but before I did, I slightly altered her hair. Not enough for her to notice in the morning.
This became my new routine, however, each night I altered her body more drastically than the night before. Her sedation prevented her from waking up while I do so. This continued for quite a while.
. . .
It was the 98th day. I had altered my routine to instead of returning home, I would watch her wake up in the morning through her window, and then I would walk to school. The 98th day, she finally noticed that someone was physically coming in contact with her in her sleep. She freaked out that morning. I watched her paranoia blossom with a grin on my face, covered by the mask that she has subconsciously seen so much. That night, I would start one of the final stages of my murder.
I entered her room with handcuffs that night. I handcuffed her left arm to her headboard. I left the key beside her bed. I went outside, and awaited her awakening. I wasn't worried one bit about what would result from this. Who would believe a paranoid schizophrenic when they tell you that they woke up handcuffed to their bed? My obcious and drastic changes went on for a long time. I'd tie her hair into knots. I'd handcuff her feet together. I, at one point, tied a noose to her neck that was connected to nothing but air. She was falling off of the edge of the cliff that we know as sanity.
. . .
It was the 167th day. I entered her room with a box cutter. It was time to let her know that I am in control. I made a cut under her throat, between her breast, and then left her house and positioned myself outside of her window. The cut was deep enough to scar, but not deep enough to cause significant damage to her.
For a long time, I continued my cuts down her chest, making a line down her cleavage. My orderliness then ended, and I became reckless. She soon had cuts all over her body.
. . .
It was the 193rd day. I looked through her window before I entered her house, as I normally do, as a precaution. Her blinds were shut. My own Anne, trying to block me out?! I was completely enraged. I entered her room and ripped her blinds off of her window completely and let them lay on the floor. I left a much larger than usual cut across her stomach. A slash. I then left for school early.
She never closed her blinds again.
. . .
She didn't go to school on the 224th day. I had planned to talk to her during class. This angered me. She had become cocky and defiant lately, and this finalized it. She needed to know that I am in control. It was time for her to die.
. . .
On the night of the 236th day, I left a note saying "suicide" on her stomach while she slept.
. . .
It took her until the 247th day to try to kill herself. She took her sleeping medication and slashed her wrists. I was disappointed in Anne. The sleeping medication slowed her bloodflow, making her wrists bleed at a slow rate, causing her suicide to be a failure. Her mother would make plans to take her to a psychiatrist the next day. My pity for her failed suicide would see fit that she wouldn't arrive to her psychatirst's office.
. . .
The night of the 248th day was her final night among the living. I entered her house while she was at school and while her mother was at work. I replaced her normal sleeping medication with a medication that would sedate her for a less amount of time. She would wake up early in the night.
That night, I entered her house immediately after she went to sleep. I had a box cutter, and three handcuffs. I handcuffed her feet and left arm down to her bed. I made sure that she couldn't roll over in her sleep through chains and duct tape. I made two incisions into her body, two inches deep each, both of which slightly punctured her kidneys. The medication that I tricked her into taking halted her kidney's ability to burst or leak it's contents, unless they were moved or irritated.
She awoke at 12:43 AM. She immediately tried to struggle. Her death began with her struggle. Once she shook her body as violently as she did to break free, the position of her ruptured kidneys were altered. The toxins from her kidneys began leaking into her body, pouring over her internal organs. The toxins caused extreme amounts of pain to surge throughout her body. The toxins flowing through her upper body eliminated her ability to scream for help. Her only body part that could move without utter pain was her right arm. The only thing within reachings distance of her right arm was the box cutter that I had purposefully laid beside her bed, the same box cutter that was used to rupture her kidneys. I stood from the corner of her room, watching her. She understood why I left the box cutter there.
Anne grabbed the box cutter and stared at it momentarily, contemplating her next actions. She then held the box cutter with the blade pointing down, and swiftly and skillfully stabbed it into the juggular vein of her neck. She quickly bled out. Her body soon lay limp in her bed, lifeless. She was finally declared dead by myself at 2:43 AM that night. It took 249 days for her torture to end. I called the paramedics from a phreaked phone that would only be traced to a pay phone.
I was never caught.
If she wouldn't have moved during the middle of the year, this all could have been avoided.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
As soon as I saw the girl, I knew that she was worth taking interest in. She was not beautiful, yet she didn't stray far from it. She had long black hair that lingered around the midsection of her back. She was an average height for a girl her age, about 5'6". She had a moderate face. She had just moved here into my city, and joined my school mid-year. This brought attention to her, inlcuding my own attention. If she had moved during the summer and joined school normally, this all could have been avoided.
It all begins with a normal school day. I go to my first period class, relax, and everything is just like it was the day before. This was until a girl who I didn't recognize entered the class room. She talked with the teacher momentarilly, and then sat in the empty seat in front of me. The teacher announced that her name was Anne, and that she had just moved her. Anne. I would remember that name for a long time.
Hours later, it was between classes, and everyone was rushing to their next class. Of these people, Anne and I were included. I saw her. The halls were empty after a few minutes, with only her searching for her next class and myself watching and persuing her. I decided that it was the time to confront her.
I broke into a run, nearing her quickly and colliding with her left shoulder. She dropped all of her books and almost fell over.
"········! Are you okay?" I exclaimed in as convincing of a tone that I could.
"That's alright. I'm alright." she responded.
I helped her pick up her books and introduced myself to her. We were now mutually acquainted with each other. I quickly left, and that was the last time I spoke to her for a week.
. . .
I spent the week after my confrontation watching her, observing her. I noted the classes she went to, the people she associated with, the direction she walks after school is dismissed, and various other small things. After 8 days, I had developed an attraction to her, a light obsession. It was not the type of attraction that would be considered intimate or sexual, it was simply an attraction.
It was the 9th day when I began what would be known as my stalking. When Anne left school for home, I took it upon myself to follow her, doing my best to maintain a hidden profile. I followed to her home, and I stood in front of it and stared. I inspected every detail that I could find. I identified what windows went to what rooms, which rooms was hers, and so on.
. . .
It was the 12th day when I carved a mask out of a block of wood. I ensured that it would fit my face perfectly. It was then painted black on the outside. Sunglass lenses were inserted in place of the eye holes. There was no mouth hole, but two holes for my nostrils to breathe through.
It would be another 3 days before I would wear this mask.
. . .
It was the 15th day. I wore my mask, along with all black clothing. I walked to her house, approximately 8 miles away. I left at 6:14 PM and arrived at 9:43 PM. I stood at the side of her house, at her window that looked into her room. I had a perfect view over her desk, her bed, her entire room. I watched her do her homework and brose the internet until 12:33 AM, when she went to bed. I watched her sleep for one hour and three minutes, exactly. I then walked home. This became a nightly routine. I watched her for 37 days without any problems. The 38th day was different.
. . .
On the 38th day, I arrived at her house at 10:17 PM. There was a ar outside of her house. A visitor. As I took my position at her window, I soon realized who the visitor was.
Anne had invited a boy to her house. They were on her bed. They were going to have sex.
This was unacceptable. Rage surged throughout my body. I tripped and made a sudden movement. The boy saw something in the window. His attention quickly changed from focusing on her to being scared. He became paranoid and was unable to have sex with her. He left soon after. He would soon after come up missing. She would never again have a boy at her house. This is the origin of her paranoia that would prove to be her downfall. If she had just not invited him over, he wouldn't be at the bottom of a lake, and all of this could have been avoided.
. . .
On the 53rd day, Anne had become a nervous wreck. Her paranoia had risen dramatically. Since the incident with her boyfriend, I had made my presence to her clear. I would knock on her windows while she's predisposed. I haunted her mind. She couldn't sleep without significant sedation from sleeping medication. It was time to enter her life.
The 54th day, I approached her at school and began talking to her, branching off of our mutual acqaintance that we had gathered. I painted a mask of friendliness and care, which she easily bought. After a brief 5-10 minute talk, we had become friends and had scheduled to go to her house that night. I assume that her intentions were far from positive.
When I got to her house, I dismissed her sexual and intimate ideas. I asked her a few questions related to our studies, and left. I would enter her house again soon.
. . .
On the 68th day, I changed my nightly routine. By now, I had stolen her house key and she had made a copy of it. We had become very good friends. As far as she was concerned, I was the only person who didn't think of her as a paranoid schizophrenic. It was my time.
That night, I casually opened her door with my stolen key and entered her house. I entered her room where she lay, sedated by her sleeping medication, unable to be aware of what's happening to her. I wore my mask. I wore normal clothing, without gloves. I watched her sleep, her slumber influencing my calm and collected mood. I watched her for a total of 3 hours and 4 minutes. I left, but before I did, I slightly altered her hair. Not enough for her to notice in the morning.
This became my new routine, however, each night I altered her body more drastically than the night before. Her sedation prevented her from waking up while I do so. This continued for quite a while.
. . .
It was the 98th day. I had altered my routine to instead of returning home, I would watch her wake up in the morning through her window, and then I would walk to school. The 98th day, she finally noticed that someone was physically coming in contact with her in her sleep. She freaked out that morning. I watched her paranoia blossom with a grin on my face, covered by the mask that she has subconsciously seen so much. That night, I would start one of the final stages of my murder.
I entered her room with handcuffs that night. I handcuffed her left arm to her headboard. I left the key beside her bed. I went outside, and awaited her awakening. I wasn't worried one bit about what would result from this. Who would believe a paranoid schizophrenic when they tell you that they woke up handcuffed to their bed? My obcious and drastic changes went on for a long time. I'd tie her hair into knots. I'd handcuff her feet together. I, at one point, tied a noose to her neck that was connected to nothing but air. She was falling off of the edge of the cliff that we know as sanity.
. . .
It was the 167th day. I entered her room with a box cutter. It was time to let her know that I am in control. I made a cut under her throat, between her breast, and then left her house and positioned myself outside of her window. The cut was deep enough to scar, but not deep enough to cause significant damage to her.
For a long time, I continued my cuts down her chest, making a line down her cleavage. My orderliness then ended, and I became reckless. She soon had cuts all over her body.
. . .
It was the 193rd day. I looked through her window before I entered her house, as I normally do, as a precaution. Her blinds were shut. My own Anne, trying to block me out?! I was completely enraged. I entered her room and ripped her blinds off of her window completely and let them lay on the floor. I left a much larger than usual cut across her stomach. A slash. I then left for school early.
She never closed her blinds again.
. . .
She didn't go to school on the 224th day. I had planned to talk to her during class. This angered me. She had become cocky and defiant lately, and this finalized it. She needed to know that I am in control. It was time for her to die.
. . .
On the night of the 236th day, I left a note saying "suicide" on her stomach while she slept.
. . .
It took her until the 247th day to try to kill herself. She took her sleeping medication and slashed her wrists. I was disappointed in Anne. The sleeping medication slowed her bloodflow, making her wrists bleed at a slow rate, causing her suicide to be a failure. Her mother would make plans to take her to a psychiatrist the next day. My pity for her failed suicide would see fit that she wouldn't arrive to her psychatirst's office.
. . .
The night of the 248th day was her final night among the living. I entered her house while she was at school and while her mother was at work. I replaced her normal sleeping medication with a medication that would sedate her for a less amount of time. She would wake up early in the night.
That night, I entered her house immediately after she went to sleep. I had a box cutter, and three handcuffs. I handcuffed her feet and left arm down to her bed. I made sure that she couldn't roll over in her sleep through chains and duct tape. I made two incisions into her body, two inches deep each, both of which slightly punctured her kidneys. The medication that I tricked her into taking halted her kidney's ability to burst or leak it's contents, unless they were moved or irritated.
She awoke at 12:43 AM. She immediately tried to struggle. Her death began with her struggle. Once she shook her body as violently as she did to break free, the position of her ruptured kidneys were altered. The toxins from her kidneys began leaking into her body, pouring over her internal organs. The toxins caused extreme amounts of pain to surge throughout her body. The toxins flowing through her upper body eliminated her ability to scream for help. Her only body part that could move without utter pain was her right arm. The only thing within reachings distance of her right arm was the box cutter that I had purposefully laid beside her bed, the same box cutter that was used to rupture her kidneys. I stood from the corner of her room, watching her. She understood why I left the box cutter there.
Anne grabbed the box cutter and stared at it momentarily, contemplating her next actions. She then held the box cutter with the blade pointing down, and swiftly and skillfully stabbed it into the juggular vein of her neck. She quickly bled out. Her body soon lay limp in her bed, lifeless. She was finally declared dead by myself at 2:43 AM that night. It took 249 days for her torture to end. I called the paramedics from a phreaked phone that would only be traced to a pay phone.
I was never caught.
If she wouldn't have moved during the middle of the year, this all could have been avoided.