He finished the letter he had started several days earlier and folded it in thirds. He placed it in an envelope, sealed it, and attached a stamp. He penciled in the address it was going to. He knew it by heart. In the top left corner, he wrote only two letters—J.P. There wasn’t a return address. The circular red post office seal would tell where the letter was mailed from. That gave more than enough information. He walked out, locked the door behind him, and took the letter to the blue mail-drop box a half block away.
Ten minutes later, he was back in the room. John looked at the girl tied to the chair. He turned the TV volume up. It was time to start the party.
“How ya doing, pretty lady?”
He pulled out the chair next to hers. The legs dragged across the tile and made a grating sound on the floor. He sat and leaned in, inches from her face, then ran his finger down her bare leg. She flinched at his touch and pulled back.
“What’s the matter? Don’t you like me?” He laughed and licked her cheek.
Tears streamed down her face, and her eyes, wild with fear, watched his every move. He loved the control he had, as he had with so many others before her.
John set his backpack on the chair to his right. He pulled the top zipper open, inch by agonizing inch, just to create more fear in the mind of the young woman next to him. He hadn’t asked her name. She wasn’t that important. The killing was what mattered. He grinned at her as he reached in. Her breathing increased at an alarming rate until she was on the verge of passing out. He stood and slapped her across the face.
“There’s no way you’re taking the easy way out. We’re going to enjoy this process together.” He pulled the pair of Neko Te out of the pack and strapped the first one over his right hand. The missing claw still angered him. “I guess I’m not fooling the cops anymore, so I may as well use these again.”
She tried to scream through the tape, but her cries for help were muffled by the television’s volume.
“See these claws? They’re mighty sharp, just like individual razor blades. Watch this.” He poked her leg with the tip of the claw attached to his middle finger. A blood spot popped up through her skin. He stared at her with a wide smile, his head cocked to the right. “Cool, huh? I barely touched you. Just think what that’s going to feel like in a few minutes when we really get started.” He walked around her chair and untied the ropes that bound her. She stood, as if to run, and fell forward. “What the hell was that?” He laughed. “Did you forget your ankles are taped together? Maybe it’s true about blondes being stupid.” He grabbed her by the legs and dragged her into the bathroom. Her flailing arms did nothing to dissuade him. He climbed over the tub’s edge and pulled her in. Her head hit the porcelain bathtub bottom with a hard thud. She was stunned just long enough for him to attach the second clawed glove over his left hand. He straddled her body, secured the gloves tightly to his hands, then reached down and began.