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JON-A Day in the life of a Serial Killer Chapter 7. Suzy's Cafe

Short story By: jon bladez
Horror


Chapter 7. Suzy's Cafe


Submitted:May 13, 2013    Reads: 14    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   


Chapter 7 Suzy's Café


As I turned the door handle of the small roadside cafe, it was as if I could see into the future, and it wasn't looking too pretty. Screaming, Bloodshed, All of the above, it was never going to end, was it? I walked in with a commanding presence and scanned the entire restaurant, once realizing it was void of any customers; I proceeded to walk to the bathroom, but not before grabbing a butter knife off the nearest table. The only sounds in the entire place were coming from an old jukebox that happened to be playing "Willie and the Hand Jive" by Johnny Otis, as I whistled along and very casually walked into the bathroom. The first thing I saw was an obese fry cook, donning the usual grease stained apron and want to be chef's hat, that just so happened to sicken me. He was standing at the sink washing his hands, which was rather surprising considering the type of dump he was working in, but I figured he'd probably just got finished jacking off in the bathroom stall, sick bastard. He looked at me as if he was wondering why I would possibly bring a butter knife into the bathroom, let alone, what the fuck did I think I was going to do with a butter knife. I decided not to let his curiosity brew too much and immediately rushed him, stabbing the knife deep into his eye socket, driving it in until I felt it scrape away off the back of his skull, piercing his brain. The screams and pleads that were now coming from the men's bathroom; you would've swore I had been in the woman's, he was a fucking pussy. Blood was streaming from his face like in those good horror movies, you know, the ones that didn't waste any expense on special effects or make-up. Suddenly the bathroom door swung open and just as I saw the cutest little red headed waitress, my fist sent her flying back into the door, eventually crashing and slumping to the ground in a startled daze. She was moaning, while he was dying, I couldn't handle the sound of it anymore. I retrieved the knife from his skull and began stabbing it into his throat, feeling the dull blade roll off his Adams apple, and sawing my way into his triple chins as well. He was choking and gurgling on his own blood, the crimson spittle every now and then making tiny bubbles that would every so often splatter, creating various freckles of blood upon his face. I looked back at the waitress and I could see she was trying to yell for "Help!" and for me to "Please Stop!" but she was in a state of total shock as to what she was witnessing, and crying whimpers was all she could manage to muster, while staring at me with her hazel blue tear filled eyes. I realize after a few more puncture wounds to his throat that he was just about as good as dead, so I got up off from kneeling on his chest. I walked over to the sink and turned on the cold water, feeling its crisp cool stream flow across my bloody hands, washing away the remnants of yet another wasted life. I splash some water across my face and rinse my face thoroughly, rinsing out my eyes and blowing out my nose, clearing away any of the cooks blood that might have happened to make its way inside my nostrils. I start to feel refreshed, alive, but the ear piercing scream of the waitress immediately gives me a reality check, easily within earshot of anyone who might have happened to be walking up into the café and knew of Suzy's tone. I grabbed a handful of her hair and said "Come here bitch, I've got plans for you!" and dragged her body the remainder of the way inside the bathroom. She began scratching and clawing away at my face, like they all do in that final attempt to get away, but that only works in those Horror movies that we talked about earlier. I tell her goodnight and punch her in the face a couple times till I see her eyes roll back into her head, thank God she's finally unconscious, fucking tough old bitch! I grab her up and slump her over my shoulder, peeking through the bathroom door slightly to make sure the coast was clear before making my way out and into the kitchen. As I was walking through the dining room I could see out the front window and into the parking lot, realizing nothing had changed in the last eight minutes or so, the parking lot was still empty. The bloodshed that had transpired in the bathroom was supposed to be the end, but I can see now it was just another beginning. I wanted to take good ole Suzy here back to that old house in the woods, but I just couldn't risk going back to it, so I'd just hit the road and drive until I saw another house to take over. I needed to tie her up and silence her with a gag first though, so I began rummaging through the kitchen drawers, finding some cooking thread used to tie chicken legs together and figured it would just have to do. I wrapped the entire spool around both of her wrists, tying them securely, and then slapped a few pieces of Duct tape over her mouth that I found in the drawer as well. I was fucking starving and spotted some left over fried chicken strips and gulped a few down, then heading to the cooler out front to get an ice cold beer. Swinging open the door, I snatch up an ice cold Coors light, popping open the top and hearing that refreshing sound that a fresh cracked beer makes. I take a few swigs, allowing it to wash down the dry chicken strips that were disgusting I might add, Hell, he deserved to die for serving up that type of shit on a shingle. The beer quenches my thirst momentarily, washing away that dry cotton mouth feeling you get after you smoke some of that killer California weed, helping me to swallow and finally catch my breath. I decide I'll grab some cold cuts, salami and cheese, and some loaves of bread for our road trip, along with a case of beer and whatever the fuck else I want for that matter. I start hauling my supplies out to the truck, throwing everything in the passenger's side seat, before heading back in to get Suzy. I walk in and I can smell that sweet smell of victory. The smell of death and life I imagine plagues every modern battlefield across the world, a portrait of war, with a hint of freedom. I was free to do whatever I wanted, to whoever I wanted to, whenever I wanted to do it, now that's real power. The survival of the fittest and only the strong shall survive, that's the way of the world and the law of the jungle. You can't argue with that. I head back into the kitchen and grab up Suzy, slumping her once again over my shoulder and carrying her out into the dining room. I kick open the front door, causing the sleigh bells on the handle to ring and echo throughout the parking lot, and head back out towards the truck. I throw her into the back bed of the pickup, her body slumped into the corner in a restrained fetal position, and jump my ass into the front seat. The sound and thud of her body must have awakened the dog, because he is now yawning and looking at me in confusion, wondering what delicacies he might have missed while he'd been asleep. I take a deep breath and sigh, breaking him off a chunk of ham I'd stolen, in which he happily accepted. Pulling my last cigarette from its pack, I crush the cigarette box before throwing it out my window, littering the parking lot with its red and white decals. As I proceeded to light it up, my heart stopped for a split second, time once again standing still as I noticed what appeared to be another couple pulling into the parking lot. I sat there for a second, puffing away on my cigarette and allowing the nicotine to help me collect my thoughts, deciding if any action was to be taken. After all, this was a whole new set of fresh circumstances, and the offer presenting itself was rather inviting, but then again I had bigger fish to fry. I sat there and watched them pull up, watching as they walked up to the front door, waiting until they actually went in to fire up the ignition on the old Ford. I gave it some gas to clear out the exhaust, causing the old engine to back fire a few times, the sounds ricocheting through the vast pine trees that lined the highway. I backed up slowly and started to head out of the parking lot, eyeing the front window as I drove past it, and turning on my right blinker as I got to the end of the driveway. I was headed back out into the world, God knows where though, hopefully to find some place isolated. As I finally pulled out, I could hear that couples terrifying screams coming from inside the café, but I didn't pay any attention to them. As I continued to drive on, I knew those weren't going to be that last screams I was ever going to hear, even though I'd wished that they had been.





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