Kill for Me

Sure you say that you would give your life for me

But would you kill for me

You would martyr yourself in my name

But could you take a life into your hands

And Kill for me

Feeling the essence of life slop between your fingers

Would you kill for me

Open their eyes so I may drink of their souls

Could you kill for me

You swear to me your love is true

So why this one thing you cannot do

Kill for me.

The Story

I would like to tell you a story. It is kind of like a modern day love story. Only in this story, there is not necessarily going to be a happy ending. Now, now I don't want to hear any whining. We will get to that soon enough (along with some sobbing and definitely some screaming). This story will also have no point, no moral, no lesson to learn (unless, of course, it causes you to believe in total randomness).

I must warn you such a journey into the mind of a mad woman can only have a negative effect on you. You really should not let me tell you this tale. Morality, ethics, and humanity are not readily found inside my flights of fancy. I find that I am not very fond of people in general and do not have the inclination to fake any sympathy. If you do decide to stay a while and listen then I claim no farther responsibility.

So it would seem that you really want to listen to my tale. Then I can only say to you: Sit back, play some good music, dim the lights and come with me on a dip into the dark side of reality.

Once upon a time (that is the way any good story should start)…..

I am going to tell you the story of Leesa Walken. She looks just like anyone else if you were to meet her on the street. She doesn't dress in fancy clothes. She doesn't wear makeup or shiny jewelry. In fact, if you were to pass her on the street you would probably not even see her. But she sees you. And you better hope that she doesn't take notice of you. Let me tell you what happened to the last person she found interesting.

It was early in the spring. The flowers were just coming out after a long cold winter, as were the throngs of sun worshiping beautiful people. The mornings were still cool but the afternoons were full of sunshine. The air smelt clean after the spring rains. All of these wonderful things to put a skip in your step and a song on your lips. That is, if you liked these things. Leesa did not.

Leesa loved the night. The long days of the spring and summer just annoyed her. Less time for her to be out. The light and the heat physically hurt. So Leesa found something else to do with her time during the long bright days, something she could do in her dark, cool basement. Today she was searching for just the right victim….err person to do this with.

Not much is know about where Leesa comes from or where she got her financial security. Her past is sketchy at best. Leesa is even not sure of all the details. Of course, the past is not very important to her. Only the moment…and then the next moment and then the next. Hopefully all of those moments leading to one of those exquisite moments. You probably don't know what I am talking about but perhaps by the end of this you will.

The Story (part two)

On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.

Leesa ate a leisurely dinner, showered and watched a movie while she waited for her new play thing to wake. As the movie ended, a wicked smile spread across her face. It was time. She raced down the stairs to the basement. She had done a little remodeling since she had moved in. There was now a concrete wall and steel door separating the stairs from the "Play Room". Leesa straightened herself up and took a deep breath. Grabbing the door knob, she swung open the door and stepped in the room like a performer coming onstage. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the middle of the room where the medical table sits, and strapped to it is her newest friend.

Good evening. I am Leesa and I will be your torturer tonight, and tomorrow night, and probably the night after that."

The man's eyes widen until it looks like they are going to explode out of his face. As their eyes lock, Leesa's eyes flash showing him just a hint of the creature she truly is as well as the madness that drives the beast. She closed the door and locked it without ever loosing eye contact.

Leesa let out a soft moan as the man began to scream.

She approached the foot of the table and looked her subject up and down. A good strong guy, he should last a while. She hums softly to herself, running her hand up his body as she walks beside the table. There is a tray beside him with some "tools" on it. She grabs a pair of sharp scissors and begins to cut away his clothes.

I know you are now wondering how you got into this situation. I promise it was nothing you have done wrong in your past. No Karma here tonight. Just shear randomness. You happened to cross the path of the beast at just the right time. Imagine if you hadn't run that red light, or if you had just held that door for that little old lady, or if one of your friends had been the one to knock on my door. You might have missed me. It might have been some other fellow lying here.

She carefully removes his shirt and throws it in a conveniently placed trash can. She runs her hands along his chest. No tattoos, no scars, a beautiful clean slate for her to play on. Leesa starts on his pants.

I have no real ill will against you. I don't know if you are a good guy or a bad guy. Really doesn't matter. I am not here to judge you or to bring you absolution. You are here strictly for my pleasure. And perhaps yours from time to time.

She strokes his manhood as she cuts his jeans away from it. Then she giggles softly as it rises a bit at her touch. She then nicks it with the shears and laughs as he screams beneath his gag. She finishes removing his pants and throws them away as well. She stands at the end of the table and pulls the tray close to her searching it to find just the right item. She lifts the scalpel showing it to him

Don't fear, however, I'm not going to kill you.....

She speaks in a voice both soothing and child like as she moves around the table and begins her first cut into his chest. The incision not enough to kill, just enough to scar

...not until you beg me to.

The Story (part one)

"Life is a death sentence no one can escape"

I would like to tell you a story. It is kind of like a modern day love story. Only in this story, there is not necessarily going to be a happy ending. Now, now I don't want to hear any whining. We will get to that soon enough (along with some sobbing and definitely some screaming). This story will also have no point, no moral, no lesson to learn (unless, of course, it causes you to believe in total randomness).

I must warn you such a journey into the mind of a mad woman can only have a negative effect on you. You really should not let me tell you this tale. Morality, ethics, and humanity are not readily found inside my flights of fancy. I find that I am not very fond of people in general and do not have the inclination to fake any sympathy. If you do decide to stay a while and listen then I claim no farther responsibility.




So it would seem that you really want to listen to my tale. Then I can only say to you: Sit back, play some good music, dim the lights and come with me on a dip into the dark side of reality.


Once upon a time (that is the way any good story should start)…..

I am going to tell you the story of Leesa Walken. She looks just like anyone else if you were to meet her on the street. She doesn't dress in fancy clothes. She doesn't wear makeup or shiny jewelry. In fact, if you were to pass her on the street you would probably not even see her. But she sees you and you better hope that she doesn't take notice of you. Let me tell you what happened to the last person she found interesting.

It was early in the spring. The flowers were just coming out after a long cold winter, as were the throngs of sun worshiping beautiful people. The mornings were still cool but the afternoons were full of sunshine. The air smelt clean after the spring rains. All of these wonderful things to put a skip in your step and a song on your lips. That is, if you liked these things. Leesa did not.

Leesa loved the night. The long days of the spring and summer just annoyed her. Less time for her to be out. The light and the heat physically hurt so Leesa found something else to do with her time during the long bright days, something she could do in her dark, cool basement. She called it "The Game" and it was her one singular obsession. Today she was searching for just the right victim….err person with whom to play her game.

Not much is know about where Leesa comes from or where she got her financial security. Her past is sketchy at best. Leesa is even not sure of all the details. Of course, the past is not very important to her. Only the moment…and then the next moment and then the next. Hopefully all of those moments leading to one of those exquisite moments. You probably don't know what I am talking about but perhaps by the end of this you will.

It was early in the evening and she was just leaving the coffee house when she happened to notice a group of "witnesses" roaming the street. These were always an interesting lot. Their conviction was usually quite strong, which gave them the uncanny ability to last for longer than most. The "god people", as she called them, were almost as interesting as the "lovers". She thought to herself that this would be a perfect little amusement so she followed them discretely. There was 4 of them, 2 men and 2 women. Choices, choices...she feels like a challenge tonight so she chooses a male for her fun. Having been at this for quite a few years, she is able to follow them for a while never being noticed. It seems funny to her sometimes how people rarely notice things around them. The group decides to split up in a suburban neighborhood, as luck would have it this was HER neighborhood. This would give her the chance she was looking for to make her move.

Leesa, having a strong belief in randomness, decided to sneak to her house and wait to see which one showed up. It was like Christmas if Santa Clause was real. She had to restrain her excitement as the door bell chimed. She answered it on the second ring. As she opened the door, a large smile appeared upon her face. It was the guy she had picked out earlier. It always excited her when randomness worked her way.

She ushered him in with feigned interest in what he was saying. She steered him toward the kitchen where she had a handkerchief full of chloroform waiting. At just the right moment, she came up from behind him and put him to sleep with a swiftness that comes only from experience.