Past is my crime. I've stolen, I've cheated. I have lied my way through the worlds serpent eyes. I am surprised i was never caught until now. Toying delicately with the police. Proving their "Sophisticated" System to be nothing but a machine, Incapable to find any experienced murderer. You need a killer to find a killer. I was caught by my own words; Confession on paper. Although it was not so simple. I wrote stories of my murder victims in great detail. Publishing them, killing and torturing more to feed my need to write. To make the stories up was never satisfying; I needed to live them.
Never once did I ask myself if my actions were morally wrong in any way. Sure they were illegal but I have done many things that are illegal. Besides i believe i am punishing my victims. I loved the looks on their faces, Begging me to stop, to show them mercy. I did not, my need to write would never allow it. They got what they deserved.
Judgement day rang clearly; Condemning them to a fate far worse than hell. My hands holding the hatchet i made them sing sorrowfully. They would scream curses at me when they could find the strength. Lack of blood creating hallucinations. Making me look as the devil himself.
I thought it sweet; But I am far worse than your beloved SATAN.
I am his daughter, Desdemona, Meaning "Of the devil". Daddy raised me well, Telling me i was his favoritebecause i do not feel compassion nor do i feel the worthless feeling of remorse. Sadly i am not immortal or a demon. Yet, I will bring a damnation on you so horrid, your eyes will bleed from the gruesome sight.
Today I await my pardon, I write in the time I have. The warden trying to get me the death sentence. Although it would never stick, My father would never allow it.
Sadly, this is my story. Not his. I was an angry child, writing hateful notes about my mother, though it was mostly unreadable, you knew it was full of hatred. She hated me aswell, she had sold her soul to my father in order to be impregnated, on which she was, with me. A sad twist of fate, It tore her marriage apart, for her husband knew it was not his, for he was sterile. Besides, my red eyes gave it away. For him and my mothers were blue, their hair blonde. Mine, Jet black. My face pale as the moon. My soul the darkest, I laugh now knowing everything will be fine and if not, if i do some how am condemned, i will only rejoin my father.
Surely, If that fate does happen, He will give me a new body to continue on my bloody trail. He tells me he is so proud of me. His words "I always thought having a child would be chaotic, but you are just perfect in every way, I could have never been so proud." Hah, it makes me smirk to know that i made the devil, Daddy proud.