A/N This is a short prologue as to what's to come...it's another one of my wonderful psychopaths (I'm allowing myself some narcissim there, I love my psychopaths. I want to take them home with me, I know they won't kill me-everyone around me, maybe, but not me) only this one has a big twist. Which, at the moment is only known by myself and my beta. Big props to her, you rock GE! I don't own any of the characters in this, they all belong to NBC and Tailwind. This takes place somewhere in season 5, I'm thinking around Justice Delayed...enjoy!
I look around at the area around me. This'll do just fine. There's no real need to bury a body. It works better if they're not buried; more animals get to the flesh. Less flesh means less of a chance that they'll catch me. The less of a chance that they'll catch me, the better. It's not like they actually catch me, but you can never be too careful.
I head back to the car, stolen, of course, and drive it away, well into New Hampshire, parking it at the train station lot. I stop along the way at a Burger King, and change back into my normal clothes, disposing of the bloodstained black in the garbage can outside and grabbing a drink.
I catch the train back to Boston, and grin, kicking back in my chair, thinking about tonight. Tonight went well, tonight went very well. No one will know it was me; I've taken every precaution possible. I can get away with it. He deserved it anyway, he deserved to die.
I pour myself a drink and toast myself, a job well done. There wasn't a lot of blood, that was a good thing. He didn't bleed that much. The less blood the better, less evidence. I don't want evidence. Evidence is bad. Evidence is just another way for them to catch me. And I'm not going to be caught. I'm too good to be caught.