I come from an interesting lineage. Well, I think it’s interesting to say the least. A brief history – and I do mean brief – would be that the trait that’s interesting usually is found on the male side of the family. It started several centuries back. Back when times were much simpler and there wasn’t the need to worry of such things like CCTV cameras and that pesky science of forensics and DNA testing. No, it was simpler then.864Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDPdMYqijN1
My great, great, great, great, great grandfather was something of a connoisseur. That was his nickname. He loved all forms of arts and culinary and prided himself on what others would consider to be eccentric. He loved painting. Everything from blood, sweat and tears went into his artwork. He would waste nothing. Aside from that, he was an avid doll maker. He used only the best materials he could get his hands on.
And with his peculiarity, he was able to get his hands on things rather easily until he got a bit full of himself. His greatest work of art, something he had coined as the ‘Dollhouse,’ was something that he had been working on for years; however, due to what I believe to be arrogance in one’s own ability seemed to be his downfall as his work literally went up in flames, followed by his workshop.
He had to move out of country to even get reestablished.
Fast forward and we come across another one of my fanatical ancestors. I was surprised that we were even related until I found his journals. I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t amazed by the meticulous fashion in which he executed his tasks. His common handle that leaves others still baffled today is ‘Jack the Ripper’. Honestly, the name is a bit much in my opinion. Granted Jack’s methods were a bit unorthodox, what with him targeting every dame that decided she wanted to sell herself on the streets underneath a Glasgow lantern but I digress. The information that he did leave behind was quite detailed, including anatomical drawings up to how to craft some of his favorite tools.
Lastly, I came across records of a femme fatale. She managed to seduce her way into the hearts of dozen via song and dance as well as a charming personality. She used her guile to get whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. She then would leave men broken and driven to suicide or to be murdered by jealous wives and lovers after she became bored with them.
What I found the funniest about this was that I did say that many of the fanatical members of my family were male. This woman was no different. One of her popular handles was ‘Siren’.
You would think when a guy found out that the woman he had fallen for was of the same sex, he’d be repulsed but surprisingly, older men are a lot dirtier than you think. How ‘Siren’ managed to keep them engrossed in her shenanigans is beyond me but I find it amazing how one such as herself could entice a man for so long, take everything from him and leave him still wanting more – only to be driven insane or killed by a dried up, old broad they called their wife.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed. Even to this day, their true identities go unknown to the public, which makes me wonder truly how well these modern detectives and scientist know their own craft.
One thing I’ve learned after reading and studying their past records is that they never used an accomplice – not even once.
Honestly, I could see why.
I’ve made that mistake a several years ago when I first started doing this on Halloween. I hired this guy to help me. It was a simple task really. All he had to do was snag a group of high school girls that were leaving this party. They were already going to be drunk off their asses because let’s be honest; what kind of high school girl wasn’t nowadays at these types of events. I even gave the guy a picture so he knew who to snag, money for a stylish rental, and a bottle of chloroform.864Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsVjYSleWLF
He couldn’t have gotten it wrong and yet he did.864Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHthNAxvtOj
He accidently choked one of the drunk girls out when wrestling to get her into a van – which was not my choice of vehicle I might add. During that struggle, one of the girls managed to slip free and in his panic, he ran her over.
He then did one of the most inconceivable things I could imagine.
The last girl that was still in the van had started bawling her damn eyes out. See, this wouldn’t have been an issue if he had used the bottle of chloroform I had instructed him to use. But it gets so much better.
There’s this thing called humanity.
The weak tend to let it get the best of them like this fool did. In his brief moment of weakness, he let her go. He let the one sole witness go before having the audacity to call me and explain that he couldn’t do this even though he had already mowed a girl down and choked out another. He already screwed himself the minute he told me this.
Of course I wasn’t going to sound upset though I don’t know what possessed him to call my burn phone. Thank god for those cheap, pre-paid things. Oh, no; I didn’t sound the least bit mad as he came crawling back here saying how he couldn’t do it like he thought he could. He found the adrenaline rush to be too much to handle. He apologized and pleaded that we put this behind us. He said that he’d leave and never come back.
I merely assured him that I wasn’t worried that he would speak of this. I eased his mind that I wasn’t mad by offering him a cocktail. I told him I’d take care of the bodies and the vehicle as I watched him drink. I told him not to worry about the mess he made as I stepped out of the room for a moment. He was kind enough to compliment me on my bartender skills as he helped himself to the second glass I left behind as I came back in with a shovel.
Honestly, he hadn’t noticed I was behind him with the thing until he happened to turn around to ask for another drink to drown his sorrows in. It wasn’t like he could do much after realizing I was standing there.
I had given him such a simple task and he managed to fuck it up.
Nevertheless, flash forward a few years. I’ve made mistakes before but I’ve gotten better. I’ve studied memoirs of what my ancestors have left behind. And I must say that they had the right idea, dear, when it came down to how they operated. I’m sure they’d be proud of me for getting this far though they’d probably all agree that reserving my antics for one day out of the year is a bit restricting, if not excessively mundane. As true as this is, I must admit that the limitations give me plenty of time to figure out how I want to execute my actions.
Dear, do you remember that dolt I mentioned earlier? Well, I took a page out of my grandfather’s journal. It was a learning process that was very messy but I’m sure he never got it on his first try either, dear. It was quite hard getting my hand on formaldehyde without being questioned but it was totally worth it. Look in the corner there. Do you see that life-like doll? My first experiment that I’m proud of. I managed to rig him up to some wires and a stand and I get to set him outside every year as a Halloween prop. I had to give him a tacky paint job in some areas and he has to come in for repairs from time to time but I sure the Connoisseur would be proud. Granted, he’s not as pretty as my other dolls but I have none to show as they all fetched quite a nice price.
You also might be wondering how I managed to make a man into a doll.
You’re not?
Well, that’s a shame. I thought we could’ve had some informative dialogue but alas I’m fine with a monologue.
I must thank Jack you see. Without his charts, though most were of women, depicted where I should make incisions and how to remove organs. He wasn’t too clear on what he used to do with them after the fact but I can leave that to your imagination. I, on the other hand, would sell them to black market. You can fetch a pretty good price for a healthy kidney.
Hey, now. Relax and stop giving me that face. The Connoisseur mentioned how people used to look at him like he was insane when he would go on to describe how much he loved his work. You’re giving me that look he mentioned. It’s quite rude so stop trying to look down on me like some lowly criminal.
I’ve gotten this far, haven’t I?
Now then, that man was only one of my many first victims and using similar methods, it wasn’t that hard to acquire material for dolls and I have yet to try my hand in painting.
As for the art of seduction, that took a few more years to grasp. I’m not as effeminate as Siren but I don’t think I’m that bad off with make-up honestly. Have you seen Ru Paul’s Drag Show on television? At first I thought it was silly until I saw how these men could make themselves into this alluring woman. If Siren saw this, she’d probably be proud if she didn’t view them as potential competition.
After watching enough videos and make-up tutorials, going to salons, and shopping for high quality wigs, I think I was ready. I mean, I had 364 days to prepare, 365 if you counted the leap years.
I’m no singer, and definitely not much of a dancer but I can assure that enough alcohol could get even the straightest of men to follow you almost anywhere while dolled up in drag.
…
You’re giving me that look again. Honey, let’s put it this way. If you saw me dolled up and hitting on your man, he would say “Thank you, next” to you so eat your heart out.
Stop looking at me like that. That look really is getting on my nerves. It’s not flattering to one such as yourself but if you don’t believe me that’s fine. You don’t think your boyfriend was just a little bit curious to feel someone up? Do you see that covered figure there in the corner next to my doll? I want to show you something.
…
Thank god, you’re gagged. I’m sure that scream would’ve been a lot more piercing if you weren’t. Don’t cry, dear. Your makeup will run. But what did I tell you? Get enough booze into someone and they’re going to get a bit curious. And no, before you make the assumption, I didn’t have to drug him or anything.
You got yourself a frisky one there. His hands were all over me and he seemed to like the idea of me actually being a guy. He didn’t slow those hands down until he felt the knife in his stomach. While he was trying to get that out, I had to take him out with the shovel as he was making too much noise. For a jock type, he sure did cry a lot. A shame really as he had such a nice face too. I guess he can replace my first doll in the end. It’s about time for it to retire you see? Only so many patch jobs can keep him looking fresh.
I’ve gotten better though so your boyfriend will be in good hands.
…
What are you trying to say, dear? I could take the gag out but if I do, you might scream. If you promise you won’t, I’ll take it out. Is that understood?
…
Good, good.
“W-why….?” she stammered. It’s quite cute. “Why-?!” I pressed the blade against her throat. “W-why?!”
I hummed at the question.
What did she do to me?
I mean, she didn’t really do anything to me personally. Well, I take that back. She didn’t do anything to me physically. On a personal level, this is a person really has done me a misdeed.
“W-what do you want f-from me?” she cried. Her make up is running. It’s very unsightly though her sobs are quite enticing. “Is it money? Do you want money?”
I don’t want your money.
“I don’t know what you want!” I pressed the knife to her neck drawing a line of red. “Please let me go.”
I’m not a big fan of female begging. Their whiny tones start getting on my nerves after the first ten minutes, hence the gag.
“What do you want?!”
I really wish she would ask the right kind of question. Each time she gets louder, I dig the knife in just a bit deeper.
I’m curious to know what will click in her head first – stop yelling or what question to ask.
“What do you want?!”
I made another line. The way she whimpered and begged probably made me a sadist because the panic on her face was priceless.
“…you…?”
I dragged the knife ever so lightly against her neck. I wish you’d speak up without having to yell or cry. You are an adult now after all.
“W-what did I ever do to you?” She shrank back as I smiled. “What have I done?!”
I had to gag her after I stabbed the knife into her hand. All that screaming would draw some unwanted attention after a while.
…
I walked back over to her with a bag of tools I replicated thanks to dear Jack.
...
That look of fear in her eyes as I began to prep a work table with the tools and formaldehyde. God, the look she gave me when I walked over to her with the bloodied shovel sent a shiver down my spine.
“W-why are y-y-you d-doing this?!” she sobbed after I removed her gag. “What did I ever do to you?!”
What have you done dear?
The shovel alternated in my hands before I offered a charismatic smile.
“What did I ever do to you?!” she screamed.
“Why, you’re the one that got away.”
ns 15.158.61.8da2
