His apartment was impeccably clean everything had its own place, its precise location. He separated each can of Campbell’s chicken soup and beef barley, by plastic dividers and lined them up one behind the next. He had spent hours organizing the cupboard and he did this every week after food shopping. He strived for organization and perfection.
Everything in his life had a purpose and a position. He hated imperfection and that is exactly what sat across the room squirming, sobbing.
He did not look at her as he continued his work at his desk. His latest victim had come as a complete surprise to him, she wasn’t who he was after.
The killer stared at the photographs lined up one after the next, exactly 11 ½ inches wide and 22 ½ inches long. He measured it again.
Five were still missing. Five more souvenirs to show the one he loved, the one who was almost as perfect as he. He would not have to mold her to his liking; she was everything he ever dreamed of.
He could see her whenever he wanted to. He could watch her, smell her and it was driving him crazy but everything had to be just right. He could not make any mistakes; he had a plan to spend eternity with her.
“Stay calm,” he told himself, counting the seconds he held his breath then released it.
He looked at her picture, long beautiful hair, a perfect body, so delicate so much in need and he closed his eyes a moment. He could see her there in his apartment, he inhaled deeply, his senses standing at attention, and her scent was consuming him. He reached out to her, was about to touch her, but she was not there, he could not feel her. The disappointment was too much to handle. He bowed his head in silence and deep in thought.
Then, he heard the moaning, a sob, a punishable interruption. He rapidly rose to his feet. The chair he was sitting on went flying a few feet backwards, he never reacted to the sound instead he sprinted across the room. In a flash the blood scattered in many directions, most of it landing on the wall. She was dead the instant the knife slit her throat. No more sobs, how dare she interrupt his moment of fantasy?
He wiped the knife on her clothing, back and forth, two swipes. Then he stood up and looked back across the room where his desk sat. The sight of the chair on the floor angered him. It was out of place and he reacted by kicking the lifeless body in the ribs. He was furious.
He sat back down at his art desk, only minutes later as if nothing had happened and her life and everything it represented, was meaningless.
He lifted the picture up, glided his finger across it, never even flinching at the paper cut it made. He stared deeply into the intense dark green shade of her eyes.
‘My Lillian, my beautiful precious Lillian’.
* * * *
Detective Michael Fields, slowly got out of bed. He glanced back towards the blonde he met last week at Louis’s Bar. She was a knockout with a nice body but not the best personality. She talked about herself a lot and her assistant manager job. She complained continually about not getting promoted and she hadn’t a clue why.
Michael figured that reason outright. The woman probably could not handle a management position. ‘No way’ Michael thought. “Her talents lay in other places, like the bedroom.’ He smiled when he thought about last night and how he should not of stayed over her place again. She would get the wrong idea and start pushing for a commitment and try to run his life.
No way was that happening and he needed to break things off, now.
He slowly rose from the bed and started getting dressed when he felt her hand grab a handful of his backside. He hated those damn fake nails of hers and the way they felt against his skin. Everything about her was fake, from her bright red lipstick colored smile and annoying laugh, to her fake sincerity and intelligence. Instantly he felt her silicone breasts wedge up against his ribs. He did not flinch, he knew about her power trips even though they had only been with each other a week. She was so predictable.
“Where do you think you’re sneaking off to?” She asked as she sat up in bed allowing the covers to fall to her waist. She sat there naked from the waist up, perky and ready for another round. The temptation to go for it one more time entered his mind, but only for a moment. It was against his better judgment. He needed to cut the string, rid himself of this month’s special and cool down for a while.
Michael buttoned his shirt then pulled on his boots.
“Mikey baby, where are you going?”
Damn, he hated her calling him Mikey.
He touched her cheek gently with his hand, it would be easier if he made a quiet exit. It was the cowardly way, to wait not returns phone calls and avoid her any way he could. He could not be sure of her reaction.
“I’ve got to go. I’ll see you around.”
“You’ll see me around! What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” She yelled as she instantly sat up on her knees in front of him on the bed.
“Listen let’s not do this okay? It was great, but I’m not into commitments and that’s what you’re looking for. I can’t fulfill this dream you’ve got going honey. My job just doesn’t give me enough time and flexibility to dedicate, to a woman like you. It’s been wonderful.” He touched her cheek. This time however, she slapped his hand away and started yelling again.
“A woman like me? A woman like me? What the hell does that mean? You’re so full of shit Fields, I should have known better then to give you the time of day!” She screamed at him but he just kept heading towards the door. Just as he opened it, the object came flying straight at his head. He didn’t freeze, he ducked and just in the nick of time. The large colorful pottery smashed against the door, immediately breaking into many jagged edged pieces.
He looked back towards the bedroom. He could see Michelle grabbing for more ammunition.
Michael made a run for it, down the hall and out the outside staircase.
“I hate you…I really hate you!” She screamed as plates came crashing down on the sidewalk. There were people around and the guys didn’t seem to be worried about the flying objects. Instead, their attention seemed to focus on the fully naked blonde hanging over the balcony cursing profusely.
Michael was safely in his truck and on his way home, grateful he had gotten out of that relationship before it got out of hand. Obviously, Michelle was some kind of psycho.
Michael laughed at the thought then headed as far away from town as possible and glad Michelle wasn’t from his neck of the woods.
Halfway home he felt a little bad about the way things worked out with Michelle. He learned early and the hard way that you just can’t make people be who you want them to be. He just hadn’t met the perfect woman yet and he may never, but at least he can have some fun trying to. That is if it did not kill him first. He laughed about it, and then wondered how his best friend Jimmy would react to this story.
Michael wasn't trying to have a decent relationship with a woman. He wasn't even attempting it and that suited him just fine.
Thoughts of Michelle's irate reaction made him laugh. The woman didn't think twice about parading around in the nude. Never mind, throwing dishes and lamps over the balcony at him while onlookers gawked. She was definitely not dealing with a full deck.
He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that he followed the right head and got the heck out of there. He continued driving, heading back home to get ready for work.
