man in the dark knee-length trench coat had travelled miles from his home on
that moonlit night. Along the way he
smiled. “The world is better off without
those sluts. They are all sluts. I
will make them pay. They are all like the one in high school who
shamed me because I didn’t give her what she wanted. She was the pervert,
not me. And why did she think she was so hot?
She was a pig and thought that she was so
smart. So smart she died of an
accidental broken neck. The ‘good girls’
wouldn’t even give me the time of day.
If a guy dies along with the girl, it’s his fault for hanging out with
one of the sluts.” There was no one to
listen to his soliloquy which was how he liked it.
these happy moments of reflection, he started to whistle “You Are My
Sunshine”. After whistling it all the
way through, he chuckled at his inappropriate choice of songs. He then sang
“Jezebel”, something fitting for
knew his way well from experience. A
mile down the road he spotted his target.
His luck was good as always, there was a couple in a new sedan, her with
her hand in his lap, kissing him on the face.
Perfect. I’ll get two tonight.
pulled open the door and as she pulled away from the man, he saw the blade in
the man’s chest. She moved so fast that
he barely saw her pull out the blade and stick into his gut. Next, he was on
the road, bleeding out. She smiled down at him “Silly man, did you think
that you were the only serial killer in town?
looks like you have a little time to kill.
Get it? Time to kill? Except
you are the one being killed this
time. I’m really glad to meet you.
From what I hear, you are the big-time lady
killer in these parts. I suppose that
you are doing this because you can’t get it up, so you take it out on your
victims. It’s a sad old story.
I think that you are called incels now. I liked the old days when we
dickless wonders, but I must keep up with the times.”
man on the ground mumbled something incoherent.
you say something?”
responded in a barely audible voice “Doctor.”
asked the fallen man “What, are you a doctor?”
whispered “Get me to a doctor.”
bleeding man is also a comedian? You
make a great trophy. Why don’t you just
relax? Your short miserable life will be
are probably wondering about me and how you screwed up so badly. The second
part is easy. You are stupid. Sure,
you got away with a few kills, but your
stats are kind of puny. I’m guessing no
more than five. Me? More like
seventy-three as best I can tell.
you aren’t dead yet, you probably want to hear my life story. I think
that I can hear you moaning, so I’ll
take that as a yes.”
started when I was left alone with my uncle when I was twelve. No, that’s
not it, but people expect that
I’ve been raped or abused. I’ll tell you
the real story. I rebelled against my
strict parents. Be home by eight, say
your prayers, go to church. Not for me.
I was a freshman in high school, I got a crush on the school bus driver. To
get his attention, I’d innocently touch
him on the way off the bus. He got the
idea quickly and shortly thereafter I moved out of my place to his. I think
that my parents were glad that I was gone. After a week or so of straight sex,
introduced me to kink. Things got wilder
until he started erotic asphyxiation.
You probably don’t know what that is.
Some guys get off by being hanged and then cut down at the last
moment. Ah, but then he made a mistake.
When I spilled some coffee, he called me a
stupid bitch. The next time he roped
himself up something tripped in me and I let him die. I found out that I got
off on his death.
that I started my nationwide tour. I
move from town to town. Picking up guys
in bars and then moving on is easy.
There is always some fool ready to let me take him for a ride. If I like
a guy, he gets a treat. If I don’t, he gets a trick and I get a
treat. Got to say, you are my favorite
all-time score. You are more deserving
than anyone else I’ve run across.
probably think that I’m a great public speaker.
I’ve got this speech down through repetition.”
sound of the man’s breathing slowed to a stop.
aren’t listening anymore are you?
well, off to my next hunt. I’m thinking
Cincinnati. I hear the police there are
incompetent and the weather is great this time of year.”
is a former
mathematician turned actuary (mathemortician) who writes, snowshoes, volunteers
and hikes. He was a volunteer wheelchair jockey (pusher, role model, unpaid
escort) at a hospital, greeter at the Marine Mammal Center, “normal” in a
balance study at OHSU, and docent at China Camp in California, and now is a
volunteer bookseller in support of his local library, and a killer of invasive
species at his local park. He lives with editor and musician Sharon. He
currently resides in Lake Oswego, OR and has lived in Manhattan (KS that is),
Atlanta, Louisville, Denver, LA, and marvy Marin CA.
It's well known that an artist becomes more popular by dying,
so our pal Steve Cartwright is typing his bio with one hand
while pummeling his head with a frozen mackerel
with the other. Stop, Steve! Death by mackerel
is no way to go! He (Steve, not the mackerel) has a collection of
spooky toons, Suddenly Halloween!, available at Amazon.com. He's done art
for several magazines, newspapers, websites,
commercial and governmental clients, books, and
scribbling - but mostly drooling - on tavern napkins. He also creates art pro
bono for several animal rescue groups. He was awarded the 2004 James Award
for his cover art for Champagne Shivers. He recently
illustrated the Cimarron Review, Stories for
Children, and Still Crazy magazine covers. Take a gander (
or a goose ) at his online gallery: www.angelfire.com/sc2/cartoonsbycartwright . And please hurry with your response - that mackerel's killin' your
pal, Steve Cartwright.