Continuing.....

  He had only been seventeen when he had met his first victim, although he always thought that the word victim was such a harsh word for what they were perceived as being.  They were never his victims.  They were his muses.  His inspirations towards greatness.  These girls changed his life, just like he changed theirs and so to be called his victims made no sense to him when in the scheme of things, they were his unexplored passion revealed.  Susan had been older than he was and much more worldly and she never kept to herself.  It had been hard for him to make any contact with her or to establish a connection.  So many men wanted her and so many girls wanted to be friends with her.  But, even though she was popular she never had as close as a connection to anyone as she ended up having with him.  Him.  Knife in her back.  The small of the blade twisting while she squirmed in her restraints.  The ropes tightening as she pulled and tried to get farther and farther away from him, only ending up closer.  He let his hands run through her long black hair.  It was so straight and thick.  It streamed down her back in long shadows as if it was pursuing a lover.  Fear shone in her bright blue eyes and it wasn't long before she began to cry.  The muffled sounds of her sobbing crept up the walls and shone bright in his mind.  He took it all it-the smell of her sweat, her long legs kicking, the blood pulsating from deep inside of her back and it drove him towards ecstasy. 
  He hadn't been invited to Susan's party.  No one would have invited him.  He snuck in the back door and through the kitchen.  On the counter there were several bottles of alcohol.  He grabbed the first thing that he saw-the whiskey-and took a gulp.  He didn't know that he would be this nervous.  In his mind, he wasn't planning on killing her tonight.  He just wanted to see how close he could get to her.  How much she would let him in and how little those around her were paying attention.  He grabbed a few pretzels from a large white bowl on top of their microwave oven and closed his eyes as he chewed.  The sounds from the party reverberated in his ears through the munching, as if he was eating them alive and the music was playing and they were screaming over and over.  He kept himself small and walked out into the living room.  The music was loud and demanding.  Dancing and making out had taken over this room and there was little that he could do to make himself fit in being alone-always alone.  Spotting the back of her head sitting on the couch, he moved towards her and slunk into a darkened corner of the living room.  He watched her laugh.  She flicked her hair over her shoulders and the corners of her mouth went up into a smile, creating dimples and a large healthy smile.  She turned and looked at him.  He hadn't been expecting that, but it was nice-nice that she knew he was there with her.  She smiled.  This soft smile with a closed mouth, never showing her teeth, and looking at him as if she didn't want him there but was too drunk to care.  He stood up straight and into the light to let her take a good look at him.  An honest look.  He wanted her to see him.  Turning towards her friends, she said something and stood up walking towards him as her hips glided across the floor, her small waist rocking from point to point and her long legs lingering into each step as if it might be her last.