Chapter 20
He was so alive that it was almost painful. The anticipation was pooling in him, the power gathering, until it felt as if he should be glowing. He was always amazed that people couldn't see the power, but then most people really were extraordinarily stupid.
It would be tonight. It was unusual that only a week had passed since the one last Friday, but this was so easy, there was no point in putting it off. And it was pleasant, this buildup of power almost as soon as the glow had faded from before.
It was odd how both women could be the dead ringers of women in his life in attitude and personality though; if he was honest there were two men his mind wanted him to punish as well.
Except that men were stupid. They always followed whatever women told them. They didn't deserve to be punished by him. He hummed all day, causing the people around him at work to remark that he was certainly in a good mood.
"Hot date,"
He'd reply. He thought of Jacklin Hale waiting for him. He had been inside her house, and could picture the scene exactly. He knew where she sat while watching television—which was about all she did. He knew how her bedroom looked, what she wore to sleep in: utilitarian pajamas. He hadn't been surprised. He preferred nightgowns, but pajama bottoms weren't a problem. She would pull them off for him; they all did, with a blade shining in their faces.
He had checked out the kitchen. Her knives had been in disappointing shape, with dulled edges barely capable of slicing a banana. She was obviously not a very good cook, or her knives would have been in better condition. He had selected a filleting knife and carried it home, where he had spent the past two nights painstakingly putting a razor edge on the blade. He hated having to work with inferior tools but he knew that he couldn't use his own.
He could barely wait for the night, when the ritual would begin.
As his father had taught him. When you are rude, you are punished.