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2/27/2011 6:27:58 AM
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A killer's view on love.

So this is a little story that I made on the topic of love. The story focuses on a killer who has a twisted view on love and finding his loved ones. Enjoy! [quote][b]The Diner[/b][/quote] The diner. What an auspicious place to be. Classic diner setup, of course, complete with red bar, tall stools available in front of the said bar, tables lined up neatly with ninety degree angles along the windows, and waitress always there, taking orders from customers. I sipped my caffe latte thoughtfully, glancing at the clock. Of course, at 5:16 in the morning, you couldn't expect too many applicants, but I just had this feeling in my gut. A feeling of good fortune, if you will. I will find that person tonight. I will find that special someone. I will find love. At long last. I had just ordered my fourth cup of coffee when I heard the door open. That little feeling in my gut tugged towards the direction of the door. I turned, and there she was. Angels began singing as the beautiful woman closed the door behind her. She seemed to illuminate everything around her, practically emanating warmth and everything that was good. A dark brown waterfall of hair cascaded down her jacket, which fit her great body perfectly. Iridescent blue eyes were framed by flawlessly applied eyeliner. Her luscious lips twisted slightly, cutely, as she surveyed the menu with those deep eyes. I took a long sip of coffee, mentally running through the process that I had done so many times before. The process of charming said lady, becoming acquainted, and therefore finding true love. Only this time, I felt like I really did find, to use a clichéd term, the perfect one. She looked bedraggled, probably from the rain pouring outside. I concluded that since her hair and clothes were dripping, she did not have an umbrella stored in that elegant purse of hers. Sure enough, she rummaged through that magnificent container of items and cursed under her breath, so quietly that even my tuned ears could hardly notice it next to the commotions and conversations in the diner. I nodded discreetly, congratulating myself on this wonderful find. Not often do you find a great-looking woman who's not afraid to speak her mind. Truly, the heavens have smiled down upon me this dreary day. The eye-catching specimen ordered a coffee from the waitress nearby in a musical voice. Black coffee, to be exact. My second favorite. A familiar ache in my heart nudged me to go closer, to begin phase one of my tried and true process. I got up quietly from my booth, pulling my cap downwards to hide my face. I walked out the diner and into the pouring rain. Shielded from the onslaught by my umbrella, I quickly took off my cap and my jacket, stuffing them both in my car, which was parked at the end of the block. I then walked back inside, effectively transforming myself into a different figure who has never been to the diner before. As soon as I walked in, I headed to the seat right next to the applicant. "One coffee, please," I called out to the waitress. "Americano." I slid suavely into the seat, brushing the water droplets from my shirt. Phase two: acquaintances. I turned to the applicant and said in a conversational tone, "Pretty bad weather out there, isn't it?" She looked at me, slightly startled at this rather direct approach to conversation, "I guess so." She then turned back to her coffee. Tough crowd. I turned it up a notch, "Don't you have an umbrella? Surely that great-looking purse of yours has one." "Oh, no. I usually bring one, especially if the forecast says it's going to rain. But it just happens that I woke up late today, and I forgot to bring one." That's more like it. She's opening up. I prompted her, "So do you come here every day?" "No, this is my first time here. I thought I could grab a bite to eat before going to work." "Oh, yeah? What do you do?" "My job? I'm a doctor at the hospital near here." Jackpot. A doctor. Wow. I could hardly believe my luck. An attractive applicant who's also very intelligent. Today was really my day. "A doctor? So you're smart and good-looking." She smiled at the compliment. This conversation was getting better and better. I had just ordered another coffee when the fine specimen next to me looked at her watch and muttered something under her breath. "What's up?" I asked. She began to gather her things up, "Nothing, I just lost track of time. I have to get to work soon." She handed the check to the waitress. "It was nice meeting you" Damn it. This could ruin everything. Still, I must berate myself. A backup plan is always necessary, especially when there are unprecedented variables present. I quickly stood up and said, "Do you have a car? I could give you a ride." "In fact, my car's at the mechanic's right now. Would you mind? Giving me a ride, I mean." "Not at all. I could use some fresh air anyway." Accepting her thanks, I led the way to my car at the end of the block, making a mental note to myself to always remember to form a backup plan. This was simply too close of a shave. I held open the door to the backseat, saying, "I'm sorry, but the front seat is simply too messy right now. You don't mind sitting at the back, do you?" "No, it's fine." After she had gotten in, I closed the door and got into the driver's seat. Phase three has begun. I rummaged quietly in my bags in the passenger seat, looking for those essential items. I heard her say how grateful she was to me again, and I vaguely replied, saying that it was no trouble. Suddenly, I struck gold. I took out the cotton pad and the bottle of chloroform, checking to see if it still had liquid. It was almost empty. I made another mental note to myself to get more after testing the current applicant. Quickly hiding the cotton and bottle in my pocket, I took a deep breath, preparing myself. This was always the most delicate stage. I started the ignition and set off onto the nearly deserted morning road. "The hospital's not far," I heard her say. "Just take a left right here and head straight." I obliged. As soon as I headed left, I scanned the roads for a suitable secluded area. I vaguely heard her voice saying something, probably more directions. No matter, we were not going to the hospital anyway. I finally found a parking space near a derelict building, sandwiched between two apartment complexes. Ignoring her questions about why we've stopped, I quickly took the bottle and pad out, squirting the liquid chloroform into the cotton. I then turned around, and with practiced and experienced hands, forced the wet cotton pad against her face. Her sapphire-blue eyes went wide, and she began to struggle wildly. Her nails managed to find my arm and gouged a piece of skin out, revealing blood. Still, this was nothing new. I remained relentless, stolid, impassive to her struggle. Eventually, the panic waned, and her resolve wavered. Her eyes closed, and her body went limp, unconscious from the chloroform. Perhaps I used a bit too much.
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  • You should. Good show.
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  • I enjoyed it, but it ended abruptly. It seems like someone with such insanity would instantly create false reasons for her rejection, and would give her more time. Only because she's tied up, though, not because he's hopeful.
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Dredwerkz Been watching too much Dexter?[/quote] Not at all.
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  • Been watching too much Dexter?
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Romondpwns410 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Flood 101 As in WC: It was very good. The corrupted mind of the protagonist was portrayed well, and the setting was nicely laid out. I really don't have any complaints, except for the ending, which was slightly bland. All in all, a great story and a fit competitor for the contest.[/quote][/quote] Yes, the ending is the weak point here, I think. But I also think that the ending kind of fits what I was going for: that the protagonist is just a man who tries to find love, but his twisted mind allows him to just go through women, never really finding real love.
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] the panzie man Oh this again.[/quote] Yeah, I almost always repost my stories on the Flood.
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Flood 101 As in WC: It was very good. The corrupted mind of the protagonist was portrayed well, and the setting was nicely laid out. I really don't have any complaints, except for the ending, which was slightly bland. All in all, a great story and a fit competitor for the contest.[/quote]
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Dry turtle Wow that was really good, although the woman's response to his question seemed a bit stretched. All in all really good job![/quote] Yes, that does seem to be the main complaint. Thanks, anyway.
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  • Too long, did not read.
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  • Is there a TL:DR version? I would read it, but as I'm about to go sleep I can't.
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  • As in WC: It was very good. The corrupted mind of the protagonist was portrayed well, and the setting was nicely laid out. I really don't have any complaints, except for the ending, which was slightly bland. All in all, a great story and a fit competitor for the contest.
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  • Wow that was really good, although the woman's response to his question seemed a bit stretched. All in all really good job!
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Ejaculati0nMan [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Ramen 6378 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Ejaculati0nMan Thread saved. I'm using this as my short story assignment.[/quote] Reported for plagiarism.[/quote] Bibliography includes: Story and concept by Ramen 6378, Copyright 2011. Retrieved: 2/26/11.[/quote] Oh, all right. You should've included that in your first post. Sorry for the reporting.
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Ramen 6378 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Ejaculati0nMan Thread saved. I'm using this as my short story assignment.[/quote] Reported for plagiarism.[/quote] Seriously?
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Ramen 6378 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Ejaculati0nMan Thread saved. I'm using this as my short story assignment.[/quote] Reported for plagiarism.[/quote] Bibliography includes: Story and concept by Ramen 6378, Copyright 2011. Retrieved: 2/26/11. [Edited on 02.26.2011 10:45 PM PST]
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Ramen 6378 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Ejaculati0nMan Thread saved. I'm using this as my short story assignment.[/quote] Reported for plagiarism.[/quote]Damn, he's like an Internet cop or something. I only skimmed your story after I read the entire first post, but it was pretty good.
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  • I'm going to save this thread and read it later. Interesting concept. Post to The Flood Library so I don't forget to throw it in there.
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  • Oh this again.
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Ejaculati0nMan Thread saved. I'm using this as my short story assignment.[/quote] Reported for plagiarism.
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  • Thread saved. I'm using this as my short story assignment.
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  • [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Blaster929 Cool story, bro.[/quote] WIN!
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  • REPLYING SUCKS BALLS. SCROLL SCROLL SCROLL SCROLL SCROLL.
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  • Awesome story, guy. [Edited on 02.26.2011 10:30 PM PST]
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  • *** The darkness engulfed me as I closed the rusted door behind me. I gently laid the unconscious, tied-up specimen onto the cold floor. Straightening up, I reached out for the light switch, my hand feeling against the wall like a nimble spider. After a few moments of quiet rustling, the switch turned on, flooding the previously black room with harshly bright light. I surveyed the room, nodding my head thoughtfully. This would do, for the time being. Hoisting the unconscious specimen up to her feet, I half-dragged/carried her to a once elegant chair that was lying on its side in the middle of the floor. The chair was chipped, and one of its arms was mysteriously gone, snapped off, it looks like. However, there was still a bit of dusty cushion attached to the seat, which I was sure would provide the maximum amount of comfort needed for this phase. Tenderly, I lowered the applicant to the upright chair. Grabbing my bag from a counter nearby, I pulled out a roll of duct tape, which I tore off a strip of and fastened her arms, legs, and torso to the chair. I also wrapped a piece of tape around her mouth, just to make sure. Everything was ready. Commence next phase. I pulled a water bottle from my bag and doused her with the contents. After the flood hit her, the previously unconscious applicant sprung to life, shaking her head vigorously to rid herself of the water, and then opening her beautiful blue eyes widely, flicking left and right to survey the new surroundings and conditions. Her eyes landed upon me, and they widened even more. I could see the panic escalating, which is certainly not what I wanted. I wanted her to be comfortable, but not so much that she could run away before she gave me a chance. To console her, I stepped forward, attempting a smile, "Look, I know that these conditions aren't what you're used to, but you'll be fine. I promise." Unfortunately, this promise, which I really meant, did absolutely nothing to relieve the panic. If anything, it increased it. She began making sounds through the tape around her mouth and started to struggle, shaking the chair. I again attempted to calm her down, "Stop struggling and just listen to me. Come on, this isn't what you think it is." She continued to struggle. I got a bit annoyed, "Stop struggling and listen to what I have to say!" At the raised voice, she abruptly stopped fighting. But the panic was still there. "Okay, good," I said, in a softer voice. "Struggling isn't the answer. But if you just hear me out and don't like what I have to say, then I'll let you go. Deal?" She nodded hesitantly. Involuntarily, I smiled, satisfied at the way things were going. I decided to keep talking, "Look, I don't want to waste your time with small talk. So I'll just get right to the point. "I think I'm in love with you." At this, her eyes grew impossibly wider, and she made a strange sound, almost like a laugh of disbelief. "Yeah, you heard me right. From the moment my eyes saw you, walking into that diner in all your beauty, I couldn't take them off you. No, seriously. I'm being sincere." I began pacing around the room, "What you have to understand is that I'm not a bad person. I do my part in society, and I love the law. I don't want to hurt you in any way, or force you to do anything. I just want you to give me one chance. One chance. That's all I want. Really." Silence filled the room as I tried to think of something else to say, something else to continue our conversation, "All my life, everyone's been ignorant towards me, believing that nothing good can come out of me. They said, in the mental institution, that I was a freak, with nothing to live up to, nothing worth living for. Can you believe that? "I set off to prove them wrong. I managed to find a job, and like I said, I became a good member of society. I was charitable to the mentally sick, I was forgiving of people who made mistakes, and all that. You know why? Because I was there at one time. I knew how they felt. I wanted to help. "And yet with all those good things I did, I felt like something was missing in my life. Something, like the doctors said, to be worth living for. Then, the answer came to me, as I watched loving couples walking in the park, and caring mothers picking up their children from school. I needed love. I needed that thing that keeps hope in everyone's hearts, that hope that things can be better, that hope that there is someone out there, built just for you. "And so I began my search for love. I courted many women before you, and each one of them left a hole in my heart, a hole that signified not accepting who I was. Then, I met you, in that diner. You instantly healed all those holes with something great, something worth living for. "That's why I hope that you feel the same way about me. I know that this situation isn't orthodox; I understand that. But what I'm asking of you is to accept me for who I am. I'm not a bad person. I just want someone to accept me. That's really all I've ever wanted in this life: to be accepted." I took a deep breath, "So, what do you say? Will you give me a chance?" I gently peeled off the duct tape around her mouth. Stepping back, I offered a smile and waited. She seemed to be contemplating me with those wonderful eyes, scanning my soul. Then, when I thought I had finally succeeded, I saw that look in her eyes. The look of pity, and fear. Sure enough, she opened her mouth and said, "I don't want to give you any chance. What have you done to deserve anyone's love? You kidnapped me, stuck me in a godforsaken cell, and forced me to listen to your driveling life story! Why should I accept you? You're a monster!" She was crying at the end of this rant, the tears running down her face. Quiet sobs filled the previously silent room. I stood there, swaying from the rejection. All of the pent up feelings of loss, denial, and self-pity threatened to burst out from inside me. To my great shame, I felt the hot flood of tears leaking out from my eyes. Trying to hide them, I turned to face the wall, grabbing my bag in the process. The tears were coming in full onslaught now, and they blurred my vision as I fumbled inside the bag. My fingers finally grasped the cold handle of the weapon. I pulled it out, concealing it in my jacket. I turned to face the applicant, whose tear tracks lined her beautiful face. "All I wanted," I stammered, the crying interfering with my voice, "was a chance. One chance, to be accepted." I raised the silenced pistol up to her head. She began sobbing again, this time louder and harder. "One chance," I muttered, the tears flowing down my face. "Being accepted was all that I ever wanted." I pulled the trigger. [quote][/quote]
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