I would wake up earlier then I usually would in order to watch the news curious to see what would occur. I saw the victim was classified as missing; I couldn’t help but laugh as I heard the coffee machine go off. I shook my head, as I knew they’d never find the body. The police in this town would give up in about two week it would all be well. I walked upstairs, the floorboard underneath me squeaking as my toes finally hit the carpet. Getting dressed once more for work, a white button up shirt, with a tan jacket, tan pants. I’d slick my hair back and look at myself in the mirror.  I was an average male, I certainly wouldn’t be winning any rewards for the most handsome serial killer, but then again I wouldn’t be caught would I dear reader? If I were, you wouldn’t be reading this.
The drive to the library is one of quiet serenity; it was a pleasant drive as the streetlights passed me by. My mind was nothing but clouded as I thought of the previous day, a sort of excitement began to crawl up my skin in the form of goose bumps. I wondered if I would repeat my actions today, if a new victim would walk in. One doesn’t consider the power they have everyday until they act upon it, you can take someone else’s life, and it’s actually quite easy to remove a life from the world. Who should decide what you should and shouldn’t do? It’s only the amount of intellect that you posses that would ever hold you back in life, no matter how you dance with it you need to have the mind to explore the steps with a wide smile.
I’d pull into my parking lot, I was a bit early to work but it would be okay. I saw the head librarian’s SUV parked in the front, so I’d be able to get in. I’d walk to the door and pull out the key slowly unlocking it, walking in and announcing my presence; I would close the door behind me and lock it following. I would nod when I heard the echo of footsteps. “Good morning.” My voice was dull and deep, it was early and I was still groggy. I forgot to make my coffee, even if the beep alerted me to the completion. I was boring and mild, the woman in front of me just echoed my own words, as I would pass her heading to my station. Using the tip of my fingers to adjust the glasses on my head, as I began to set up for the day. My workspace was the perfect size, not too big, but not too small. I’d lower my bag to the side, and then begin on setting everything up. I’d boot my computer up and would allow the workstation to load up so I could begin the process of processing the books in the library for others reading pleasure. Eyes would dart back and forth between the green text on the black background.
The hours would slowly click by; light began to filter into the workspace as my eyes began to slowly adjust to the pollution. The quiet roar of the city began to start up; eyes would flicker around the area to scan. The regular visitors were all ready in their space; they were always the best in my own mind. Consistent with their presence and work ethic, in such a way that you could count on them no matter the circumstances. They were what would guide my insanity to regular and controllable volumes. They would hold a special place in my heart, and in time, in my collection. They would be the prized ones, but all in due time, I needed to work my way up. A smile on my lips, as my tongue slid out and wet the dried flesh. It was a surreal experience thinking about the demise of those around you, all with a small smile on your lips. If you were the quiet one you could almost get away with anything you would like, if you were smart enough of course.

You should begin to question what schooling I went under to receive the type of intellect that I am in possession of. The easy answer is the common type, instead opting to gain most of my knowledge from the extensive information held within words. Look at how much you are subjected to by having your eyes follow a combination of twenty-six letters, what about Z you may ask? Well, looks like it’s included right there. By this time, you should realize that I am toying with you, that I am slowly getting into your mind and at the end of this you’ll almost know who I am, where I am, and what I am. Yet, you’ll never be able to piece the information together, of course you think you would. No matter whom you are, where you come from, you’ll think you can solve the code, crack the complexity of myself. How is this possible to achieve things that have never been achieved? Who says that they haven’t been done before? If they execute it in a similar fashion, it’ll go unheard of. Look at the history of serial killers, look at how many have gone uncaught, and look at how many are wrapped in history as a giant question mark. You would have never heard of me, never known what exactly I did if I didn’t decide to share my story. Why am I doing that? You all ready answered your own question in your mind somewhere; do you think it’s correct? Of course you do, yet, it’s too simplistic for me. You have to remember that I’m complexly simple; I am a question that has no answer, a code that has no key, a lock without a door.

Life is a precious thing that really holds no real value in the grand scheme of things. What are you going to do dear reader that will change the world for eternity? Do you know the name of the man who created the wheel? Do you know the name of the man who first made a weapon? Do you know the man who first put words together? No.
Focusing back on the library and the people passing through I would exhale softly. No one knew the thoughts in my own mind; no one knew what was occurring in my head. That was the beauty of thinking, no one else can do it for you, and no one can replicate your own thoughts. Each and every thought is your own in full, it’s small gifts like this that I was thankful for in passing time. The library was actually quite busy today; it came as a bit of surprise. For a Wednesday morning it was quite bustling in activity. There was a certain kind of attention needed to people watch at this time, you have to put on a wide smile, nod your head. I was lucky because it was also my job to be courteous and kind to those around me, to be as helpful as I could to the people filling the space around me. Maybe I would be able to add another prize to my collection, who knows what would occur? I was spontaneous yet planning in nature. There was a certain confliction in my own mind, a certain sort of confliction with my actions. Maybe this is why you will never figure me out, who knows?
Someone would come to my desk, as my eyes would slowly focus in through the glasses on the woman in front of me. Putting on my best smile, showing teeth and all I’d go through the classic monologue, “Good morning ma’am, how may I help you today?” My voice cut through the air like a dagger through paper. ‘I am looking for a certain book, it’s quite old in nature, would you have anything that isn’t out that is available to check out?’ Her voice would echo in my own mind, the archives would be just that. A brief flicker went through my mind that this woman could be petitioning me for police work, as this would have been the last place the victim had visited. With a smile I’d rise from my chair and nod my head, “The archives downstairs madam. I’ll be more then happy to lead you there.” I’d once again go through the trough of the path that lead to the archives down below. The smell of dust once again made my nostrils flare in distaste. How Mr. Richards ever stomached this smell was always beyond me, yet I figured he wouldn’t have that strong of scent at age eighty. I’d unlock the door and allow the woman to step through, following behind her. “Any book in particular ma’am?” She took a few moments to process my words, almost like she was attempting to figure something out. ‘Oh I’ll know it when I find it’. With that I would take a seat near the entrance/exit. I wore a small smile on my lips, if she was attempting to find any source of evidence she would find none throughout the area of the room.

She would finally come to a pause and would shake her head; I watched the long burnet hair swing from side to side as I watched her face wrinkle in dislike. She didn’t find what she thought she would, she would turn with a fake smile and say she didn’t find it. I’d once again rise from my seat and frown slightly, “Apologies madam, I could place it on order if you would wish to have it in two weeks?” She would shake her head and inform me she would try the other library. With a nod, I’d allow her to leave, locking the door behind me. She would leave and get into her small black car and drive away. This event would only serve to inflate my confidence, the only question now was who tipped them off that the last place the victim was seen was in the archives, the watcher was being watched and I realized who my next victim would be, and it would be oh such a marvelous prize!
I would return to my spot and re-organize my surroundings, I would have to watch myself, thinking about the layout of the library it was probably a fellow co-worker that reported the incident, probably Misses Elizabeth the woman had it out for me ever since we disagreed over the meaning of a book. Quite childish if you ask me, yet not everyone could serve to be mature in the things that they do, the things that they observe. It is quite interesting that even after the age of eighteen not everyone is as adult as others, it is like that way in life sometimes. That people can live their lives in full and still not hold a candle intellectually to others who went to the same schooling as each other, it is all the way that the cards were played with your birth, who you are what you have been through, how your mind adapts to revolve around the situation. Life is a funny thing sometimes, it’s all about the way it spins with you, who knows what you will go through, dear reader, who knows why you decided to pick this up why did you after all is there something wrong with you to read about the mind of a man who’s soul purpose was and still may be to kill and destroy everything that has reason? You didn’t know did you?

I would eventually re start the process of organizing the database around the books inside the library. These walls were my solitude, it was a funny thing now that I had a few workstations and a few hideouts to do my work, store my collection and I still consider my workplace my solitude, it is perfectly innocent and it would serve to hold me down much like the lights of the big city. Green text would past by my eyes time and time again, it never got old in honesty, I never felt like I was just a lose bolt in a machine, it was just doing my duty to help this great city to help people learn more and more. Who knows the sort of things I would subject others to all in the sake of my collection, who knows how my mind works, I sure don’t. If you are questioning why I repeat myself, why I am all over the place it’s quite simple in nature yet at the same time all complex through the motions and through the words of my own memoir.
I would slowly rise up from my space and go behind me to walk, I would be filling my water bottle up, and in the process I’d stop my Misses Elizabeth’s station to talk to her about things, and to see if she was surprised I was still here. I’d stop first at her station, with a soft smile. She was clicking away on her computer, and she would look up and directly at my station, she put on a sort of cocky grin when she noticed I was no longer seated, she would probably assume that the woman had taken me away in silence. “Hello Elizabeth, how are things going with you?” My tone was eerie, almost as if I knew she was the one who attempted to ‘rat’ me out. She would jump with a soft sort of startle, attempting to collect herself in a quick fashion. A sadistic smile curled up on my lips as I watched her, I couldn’t help but think it was very similar to that of a predator, then again in some forms I was very much like a predator. After a while you will probably learn that I may hunt like one, who knows maybe I would be inspired by those who kill time and time again in the course of nature it’s life, it’s beautiful, put it into humans and all of a sudden it’s breaking the law, deviance amplified in a taboo fashion. Does a lion not have a family? Do Zebras just live solidarity lives? Yet these two are plunged into a world of life and death were the victims are almost as numerous as the victors.  So at the end of the day am I really that bad of a person? Am I a nightmare to society? Perhaps the best question becomes, why do you attempt to label someone who is an individual the same way you label something that you cannot explain?

Elizabeth would eventually gather herself enough to respond to me, and she seemed almost scared to respond to me, “I am well, very well.” Of course she wouldn’t ask me about how I was doing. After all, what would be the point? She is rather rude in nature and why would she seek out information she has either assumed or she actually knows? She is not interested in a cat and mouse game, she is only interested in getting father in life then others, in any way she can, but she has no drive to actually do anything to her potential instead sitting back and allowing things to take the course with some added cheating assistance, or in my case to halt a collection that has just begun. People like this need to be dealt with quickly, and I was more then happy to take care of the problem that would arise with the circumstance. When the time was right I would make sure she was taken care of, I decided the next heart I would collect would be black in nature, dark unwavering in desire. After all, you need some stale ones to learn from to compare to your other prizes. I would nod my head in response to her, still keeping that sadistic smile upon my lips, “That’s quite good Elizabeth, I hope you continue on like that.” With that I would leave to go fill my water bottle up. The smile fading into a small smirk, I was confident, smug in my abilities, they vastly outweighed hers and I knew that I could handle her with a precise artistic expertise that no one else could muster. That is after all, why I am doing what I am doing, or at least you thought so didn’t you?

The day would go by rather quickly, I had all ready picked the next victim that I would collect from. Dear, Elizabeth. When the day was over I’d watch the staff begin to pick up, I knew Elizabeth was one who would be out the gate first. So I would make sure that my supplies were taken care of so after she went out, I could follow behind. It wouldn’t look odd, sure in her mind she would think it was planned, but I would make sure that I didn’t get her, her mind would. I seek out the minds of everyone else, and hope to destroy it. That is what makes me so unique, that is what made me so uncatchable, because I wouldn’t leave a single trace in anything that I did, I wouldn’t leave a single trace on any object, or item. I would be a phantom in the night, even when you are reading this you wouldn’t think it’s me, even my neighbor wouldn’t. Oh would that haunt your nightmares, for me to be living next to you? Such a crazed and fanatic man living right next to you, would you feel safe knowing that I may never pick you? Or would you be so frightened that you’d think that you would make an easy target, which you would without a doubt in my mind.