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Authors: Suzanne Steele
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victim. This is how I manage that.”
I open a cabinet that has vials neatly lined up and pull one out, holding it between my thumb and forefinger to show it to her.
“This is ketamine. It’s mostly used on animals, but it works on humans too. This agent not only works as a sedative, but it also induces a dream like state when the victim regains consciousness. That way, even after he awakens, it still keeps him under your control. By then, you should hopefully have him tied down to that table I just had you on.”
“So, you’ve allowed yourself time to subdue your victim by drugging them?”
“Absolutely. You want to make sure you have effectively transported and subdued your victim during the time he was in a drugged state. Don’t ever make the mistake of underestimating your victim. Always remember that you’re dealing with someone who is in the mindset of survival; every instinct he has will be telling him he needs to fight in order to live. Fight or flight has kicked in, and the adrenaline in his system is enabling him to do things he wouldn’t be able to do under normal circumstances. If he gets away, he can identify you. If he fights you hard enough, he takes your DNA with him to the grave, or to the precinct if he was successful in his escape attempt. One hair or one skin scraping from where he scratched you while fighting you off is all it takes to get you caught.”
“Do you have access to an incinerator?”
“Spoken like a true criminal,” I chuckle, feeling a sense of pride in being able to teach my wife something no one else can. I want her to be inquisitive. Curiosity breeds a fertile mind and a love of learning. She has a lot to learn and a short time to learn it in. I’m pleased with how much progress she’s showing already. If I mentor her correctly, she’ll do fine.
“Or, you’re at least one in training—a criminal, I mean.” The lopsided grin on her face is adorable. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I have an incinerator here.”
“What’s your reasoning for not using it all the time?”
“Our purpose in doing this is to send a message to the public, especially to the criminals.” I take a moment to pace the length of the steel surgical table; it helps me think. I don’t want to miss relaying any information to my trainee. Being a successful serial killer is hard enough for just one person. Trying to pull it off with two people is nigh impossible. The only thing my partner has going for her is the fact that I will be here, going over my mental checklist to have her back. Two of us working will leave more room for error, but if the situation is handled correctly, it could also leave room for more success. After all, two heads are better than one. That is, of course, if the right people are working together. It’s also much easier to transport a body and set up a kill room with two people. It literally cuts the workload in half.
Killing together will do something no other single act can do. It will forge an unbreakable bond with the woman I am spending the rest of my life with. There’s something disturbingly romantic about it all.
Melanie
I watch my husband as he paces the length of the steel table. His copper hair blends nicely with the tan suit he’s chosen to wear, glinting in the bright fluorescent light of the sterile room. I can see the lines of worry on his face, and it’s startling to see on a man who rarely shows me or anyone else what he’s thinking. He’s concerned we will be caught because of me. I, on the other hand, am determined not to let that happen.
I turn my attention away from my husband and study my surroundings. The room we’re standing in looks like a sterile operating room, and I wonder where my husband gained the knowledge on how to set one up. I resolve, in that moment, to be an asset to him, not a hindrance. With my medical training and his police procedural knowledge, we can do this. In fact, I believe not only can we do it, we can be a
I open a cabinet that has vials neatly lined up and pull one out, holding it between my thumb and forefinger to show it to her.
“This is ketamine. It’s mostly used on animals, but it works on humans too. This agent not only works as a sedative, but it also induces a dream like state when the victim regains consciousness. That way, even after he awakens, it still keeps him under your control. By then, you should hopefully have him tied down to that table I just had you on.”
“So, you’ve allowed yourself time to subdue your victim by drugging them?”
“Absolutely. You want to make sure you have effectively transported and subdued your victim during the time he was in a drugged state. Don’t ever make the mistake of underestimating your victim. Always remember that you’re dealing with someone who is in the mindset of survival; every instinct he has will be telling him he needs to fight in order to live. Fight or flight has kicked in, and the adrenaline in his system is enabling him to do things he wouldn’t be able to do under normal circumstances. If he gets away, he can identify you. If he fights you hard enough, he takes your DNA with him to the grave, or to the precinct if he was successful in his escape attempt. One hair or one skin scraping from where he scratched you while fighting you off is all it takes to get you caught.”
“Do you have access to an incinerator?”
“Spoken like a true criminal,” I chuckle, feeling a sense of pride in being able to teach my wife something no one else can. I want her to be inquisitive. Curiosity breeds a fertile mind and a love of learning. She has a lot to learn and a short time to learn it in. I’m pleased with how much progress she’s showing already. If I mentor her correctly, she’ll do fine.
“Or, you’re at least one in training—a criminal, I mean.” The lopsided grin on her face is adorable. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I have an incinerator here.”
“What’s your reasoning for not using it all the time?”
“Our purpose in doing this is to send a message to the public, especially to the criminals.” I take a moment to pace the length of the steel surgical table; it helps me think. I don’t want to miss relaying any information to my trainee. Being a successful serial killer is hard enough for just one person. Trying to pull it off with two people is nigh impossible. The only thing my partner has going for her is the fact that I will be here, going over my mental checklist to have her back. Two of us working will leave more room for error, but if the situation is handled correctly, it could also leave room for more success. After all, two heads are better than one. That is, of course, if the right people are working together. It’s also much easier to transport a body and set up a kill room with two people. It literally cuts the workload in half.
Killing together will do something no other single act can do. It will forge an unbreakable bond with the woman I am spending the rest of my life with. There’s something disturbingly romantic about it all.
Melanie
I watch my husband as he paces the length of the steel table. His copper hair blends nicely with the tan suit he’s chosen to wear, glinting in the bright fluorescent light of the sterile room. I can see the lines of worry on his face, and it’s startling to see on a man who rarely shows me or anyone else what he’s thinking. He’s concerned we will be caught because of me. I, on the other hand, am determined not to let that happen.
I turn my attention away from my husband and study my surroundings. The room we’re standing in looks like a sterile operating room, and I wonder where my husband gained the knowledge on how to set one up. I resolve, in that moment, to be an asset to him, not a hindrance. With my medical training and his police procedural knowledge, we can do this. In fact, I believe not only can we do it, we can be a
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