..::The Kill Switch::..My Dear Sonny-boy

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That's the problem with the kill switch. It does'nt just Go off. It's controlled by the rage of emotions. Fear, hunger for the perfect moment when he's over powered them. He's God. For a second he feels nothing, but it's every thing. No one had that feeling. Never. He has different names for different nights. Sometimes it's Abdeel, the servant of God, doing God's biding. Maybe tonight its Jaden. No, not tonight. He'll stay the name he was born with. Only for tonight. For the special occasion, for the special girl.

For most of the girls, He makes up the names. It comes like the tide kissing at his feet. He sees the name Simone for Her. She walks through an iron gate down the hill where his car is parked. His black car with tinted windows. He calls it the Fly Syndrome. They're a small part of a big web hes weaved, they're nothing but a speck on the pattern. They know their doomed from the start. The second they open their eyes. It's how he picks them out. Like a red glowing ore surrounding them. Simone walks briskly, watching the cars and avoiding the homeless. Not more than fourteen.

Such a beautiful age. Like a blossoming rose, opening its petals for the world to see. For him to perish. The sweat began to stream down his face. Precious salts he needs. He can't control the tremble through out his body. 'Easy now Sonny-boy. Dont get messy, when you get the attractions you get messy.' She walked past him. Not noticing his menacing glare, the sickly acrid smell of not being bathed in days. The smell of girls like her. The one's just like her. Never a feeling like the one he's having now.

It looks a very long way for Simone to make it, so slowly he starts his car, trailing behind at her at less than five miles. She doesnt know, and how could she? The murders have been going on for days. Months even, some unexplained ones have been tried as his. But any thing before August 14, 2001 is a lie. He's counted the days and the murders the girls and every thing. Their smiles and trust. The hair ties and underwear he's collected from all of them. Nothing is thrown away ever. The body is--recycled. Left for the police to find wrapped in garbage bags and plastic wrap. Bloody muscles and fat piled into plastic container and sealed with a kiss. Not his of course, but theirs. Before he has them laid flat on their back they pink their lips with lipstick and kiss the tops of four containers. Exactly as much as needed.

His hands are wrapped around the steering wheel like bronze worms connected to a cold pole. Thats how he felt, like his body slithering down into a puddle of dissolved fear and more sweat. She wasn't more than a block from him, his headlights off, his tires slow and silent. Her white sneakers slapping the pavement, maybe it was meant like this. God made him for this sole purpose. To carry out His work. When suggested to him it was nothing more than a side effect of the pills he smirked. How could some thing so beautiful be sounreal? he asked. His lover of the time, his name lost in his memory for the loss of love is like a wound to the heart, had said. They both sat at a table, sipping their cofee's. Sonny-boy finishing his black with two sugars in record time while his Loverman slurped loudly and grew pink in the face. It was his second latte and Sonny-boy was low on cash.

"Its sick! You're sick!" one of the only people he had confided in. Sonny-boy shook his head. His hair matted like a lions mane. "I love them, and they love me." He said.

"They dont love you, you sick fuck!" Shh lower your voice! "They trust you and you just lie! You lie and than you rape them and then you kill them!" he said 'they' like they were flies. They weren't though. They were his delicate little flowers. Reminders to him that there was still some purity today. Those little girls were still the spoonful of beauty and sugar he needed, to make it through. He left then. Promising not to tell if he would never have to be an alibi. "Truce." Sonny-boy replied and it ended for a little while.

Just a little while though. Than there was Maybelle Kane. His gorgeous Maybelle Kane. She was fifteen and a half when he was just twenty one. He gave her a great time the same way she gave such an excellent time to him. The motel in Hayward. The love. The gunshot in Tracy. The bone and gristle ripped from her shoulder, the small chunks of her vertebrae oozing from his fingers. Maybelle gave Sonny-boy a great night. He could see Simone still. Her black pants and black hoodie. Blue hair in a loose and flimsy bun.

A lot like Maybelle, he whispered. Simone, yuck! He hated the name now, she deserved some thing more elegant. Antoinette. He liked Antoinette on her even more than Simone. She was waiting at the cross walk for the green light. The dangers of the world, and the thought of anything harming his Antoinette made him sick. It wasnt hypocrisy at all. It was the right to watch those blossoms unfurl before him in terror and pain. Not by the swift blow of a truck, or a gun. There was beauty in watching their lovely eyes turn milky grey in front of his. There was no beauty in their bones being crushed into powder or their muscles being liquidated into mush on the street under dirty wheels. The thought gave him chills up and down his spine and Antoinette crossed the street.

She safely managed to cross and his heart resumed its normal rate. He could'nt stand giving a machine the satisfaction only He granted for him. She was down to Oak now and the temperature had dropped massively, her skin was turning slightly grey and fading. Too late for such beauties to be out. He was hot on her trail, sweat running down his neck, his black hair clinging to his tan face. She has to be home soon, he thought. I cant wait any longer. She was different. This girl was different. He could feel it like fire in his veins. Her white bobby socks freshly bleached against her milk chocolate ankles. Her grey backpack was filthy and hung loosely down her curved back. Sonny-boy wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

He rummaged through his pocket as he followed her down another hill and pulled out a candy bar. It was soft and warm in the package as he ripped it open and licked the chocolate goop from his fingers. It was like a brown sweet soup with almonds floating around as he dumped it all in his mouth. Speeding his car to ten miles she had stopped at a building with brown paint. An apartment complex with fewer spaces; A flat possibly, she rummaged through her pocket as well and fished around in her backpack for some thing. "You're keys sweetie?" he asked himself as he looked around, over his shoulder and through the side view mirrors for a parking place. Shit! he thought as his brain seized as he closed his eyes and tugged at his hair. No parking! No fucking parking! He made a giant U-turn and began speeding up and down the hill. Some where, there must be an empty place. His stomach began to cramp and he felt like he was pissing blood into the crevice of his thigh and out, staining his upholstery in the car. It made him all most sick to think he would lose her. He drove and drove his eyes scanning the streets until he found it. A cramped and small place just small enough to fit, He could feel the paint from his car colliding with the other car. An eight hundred dollar job to fixed he knew. But after this, he would give up the car, give up every thing, and leave San Francisco tonight. Never come back. Some where smaller, less occupied. Maybe Arkansas or Oklahoma. Somewhere where Sonny-boy didnt exist and wasnt just a hollow silhouette of a killer. A fresh page.

His leg was crushed from moving in between the two vehicles. He gasped and looked up, an empty street that was a good sign. So when she eventually did scream, no one would be there to stop what he had to do. He ran to the building, she was gone. He calmly walked up the porch and breathed a sigh of relief. She was there calling through her mail slot for some one to open the door. Her voice was like hot honey dripping from a metallic spoon a she jerked her head up and looked at him. "Locked out?" Sonny-boy asked in his gruff teenage voice. It had'nt developed right, so even still, at the evil age of twenty-five, he sounded like the sixteen year old social outcast he all ways had been. She smiled and brushed a stray hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, I lost my purse at school, every thing I had was in there so that kind of sucks," she grinned he grinned back. He made the face he made for all of them. Leaning his head on his shoulder and leaning it forward. His chunky hair framing his innocent-like face. She bit her bottom lip and inhaled deeply. It felt wrong to seduce them into some one else's home. He lived out of his car, so having a house or apartment was never necessary. She bent back down and began calling up her mail slot again as he fumbled with the pin like fish hook and paper clip flattened out in his other pocket. He turned around and jabbed them both in until the lock clicked and as smoothly as he had pulled them out he slipped them back in. It was October 29 just two days until Halloween and people were drunk and screaming all around. He looked out and noticed a party just being let out.

"Kind of makes you regret living on Haight doesnt it?" she asked. He looked up and their eyes locked. "What?" he asked. Startled his angel still wasn't being let in to her home. She licked her dull-pink lips. "Haight Street, its ruined basically. The fucking homeless and the tweekers. I wish I could have lived here in the seventies. The Love Movement," she smiled. He smiled back. "Yeah I guess. It all pretty much has gone to Hell." Sonny-boy stepped into the apartment and all most closed the door when she blocked it with her neon green nails and smiled.

"It's sort of a big favor, shit it's a huge one, but could you wait with me? Just for a few more minutes?" she asked him. His white undershirt must have been stained yellow under his armpits and he nodded, he walked out and closed but didn't shut his door all the way. His heart swelled an extra eight sizes, the trust had begun. She was basically putting her small fragile life in his hands. He loved it. She called out to her mom and several other people, but no one answered. Exactly what he wanted as she held the bridge of her nose tightly between her thumb and forefinger. "I'm pretty sure they went out," she gasped as Sonny-boy looked at her face. He was so used to the tears, or should be at least, but every time any of them cried it shred more gashes into his heart. She wasn't crying, more like whining.

"If you...want I, uh, you could use my phone," he said as she looked up. Her purse was gone so she had no communication to any one. Every thing was going perfectly, smooth like butter. "Thank you so much, um, whats your name by the way?" she asked. He jostled it around in his mind. He had had chosen his real name but every thing was sweltering around like a misty cloud around his head. "Sonny-boy, S-sonny," he replied.

She reached her hand out and cleared her throat. "Elise," she smiled. Elise, Elise. Beautiful. He walked in and looked around hoping to God no one was home, the lights were out and the TV was off so chances were no one was. He walked in and in she followed, shy and small as she closed his door. "Where's your phone?" she asked him as Sonny-boy looked around. Damned if I know lovely. So taking a random guess he walked to small desk holding a small black laptop. Nothing, he scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah just-" as he spun around and gazed at every flat surface. "There, on that wall right there," Sonny-boy picked up a cup of water, warm from being so old. All ready he was aquianted with the family like house. She smiled shyly and dialed out a number. He could hear it ringing and knowing this was a stupid move He sent him the message that every thing would be fine.

Every thing.

It rang until it came to an answering machine and she hung it up and carefully placed it back onto it's cradle. She said "Thanks," and took a seat in a small wooden chair in the living room. He walked into the kitchen and opened up a giant pea colored refrigerator with nothing more than an endless amount of diary on the shelves and drawers. He pulled out the carton of milk and took a large swig. He burped and covered his mouth as she walked slyly in and took a seat at the table.

"I can see if they come home easier because they'll turn on the kitchen light up there," she said pointing up to what looked like the highest floor. The glass windows were dull and black a sshe shuffled in her seat and crossed her arms in her lap. "Did you just move here? I've never-"

"Yeah, I just did." Sonny-boy interupted. "From Florida. I just graduated from college down there. I wanted to come down here for-"

"What college?"

"The University."

"-of what?"

"Florida," he chuckled amused with her wit. She scowled and smiled at the same time. "No!" she whined. "The University of, like, what did you study?" she asked.

"Psychology,"

"What kind?"

Sonny-boy guessed this was what the lieing was all about. She stared at him, enthralled with his vivid tale. "I studied what people think when they're killing some thing. Like when you take life," he said in all most a whisper. "What does that mean?" she asked.

"Like murderers, why they do it, shit like that. I failed." he murmered. She bowed her head and crossed her left leg under right legs thigh. "So what do they think? Why do they do it?"

Sonny-boy shrugged. "They feel it's right. They're crazy so ofcourse they'll think it's right. But it's a total God-complex. When you have some thing in your total grasp. You can choose-" he faltered. She was leaning down to scratch her leg and her shirt was dipping just low enough he could see the straps and lace of her turquoise bra. He licked his lips.

"-yeah?" she asked. "...their fate." he whispered as she glanced up at the window. Still, nothing.

"I dont know if I want to go to college. I mean, what's the point?" she asked. "I mean, I don't want to be a scientist or any thing." she said in repose.

"What do you want to be?" Sonny-boy asked. "I'm going to be an actress. Or a rockstar, maybe, I don't know. I want to write, and own a coffee shop when I'm like sixty." she smiled. He nodded. Adding to the silence. You won't live to see sixty. You can't be an actress. You can't be a rockstar. Do you know how fucked up those people are? They think they're better than everyone! You, me, even Him. Don't be like them. He scratched his nose and looked down at his stolen digital watch on his wrist. Ten forty eight at night. She looked around until they both noticed a portrait of a family on the hallway wall outside of the second entrance to the kitchen. She stared at it. Shit! Fuck, kill her! Kill her now! "I can explain!" he said loudly as she looked at with a quizzical look and her eye brows furrowed.

She shrugged, "A lot of people's parents are gay. It's cool, I'm not a homophobic. I dont, like, hate you, Sonny." she smiled. "Where's your bathroom?" she asked as he stood up and walked slowly down the hall. Sonny-boy passed a badroom with a king sized white bed and a second room, an office and finally the black and white tiled bathroom. She rushed past him and shut the door as he rubbed his forehead.

Sonny-boy rubbed his leather-like hands over the smooth glass and took it down setting it so his foot was able to snap the glass in half with a clean break. He took the large photo of the two grey haired men and tipped it, setting it into the trash in the kitchen. If there was anytime to do it, now would be it. The trust was gained. You have it Sonny-boy! Dont fuck this one up! Fuck it up and your done with Sonny-boy! Fuck it up and your dead! He heard the toilet flush and the hissing of the old pipes and water sprinkling into the porcelain sink. "Hey Elise?" he called as she gave a coy Yes.

"I think I see--the light in your kitchen is on now..." he looked at another door the opposite of the other two as he hurriedly opened it. It was like the steps leading to the trash and recycling bins and up to her home. "You can, uh, go up the back if you want."

"Right! Thats smart, I totally forgot. Thanks for evey thing Sonny, I'll probably-" she came walking into the kitchen. He stood infront of the door as she shuffled her feet and tried to push past him. "Bye." she hissed. Terror. Fear. It pumped in her veins and through her heart like blood. She managed to snake her way past him, rubbing her clean and pressed clothes against the one's he had paid probably three dollars for. "Please move," she whispered as he held her hand. She turned around sharply and tugged. Yanking her hand from his. "I'm sorry," he whispered as he grabbed her shoulder as hard as he could. "Please! Please!What are you doing?" she shrieked. "I'm so sorry Elise," he whispered again. Sonny-boy pushed her into the frame of the door and pressed his face close into hers. She could all most taste the acrid smell; she could feel his stubble running along her cheek as he ran his lips down her chin. "Stop! Jesus-fuck! Sonny, help! Help!" she yelled. He could feel the scream rising from deep down in her abdomen. "Please! Stop! Help!" Elise screamed as he yanked her forward and slammed her skull into the wood. Her eyes rolled back and she collapsed onto the plastic tiles floor, blood streaking the white paint as she fell.

"It's all right now baby. It's fine now," he cooed to her un conscience body as he carried her to the nearest bed and laid her down flat on her back.

He dug in his pants pocket and pulled out the overly used lipstick and holding her head straight with his rough fingers, he painted on a smooth coat and pushed her lips against four Ziploc bags he pulled from the kitchen. He felt the pang of guilt and regret that he must do this to such beautiful girl, such a young girl. Its getting messy. he thought wanting to cry as he pulled out the large carving knife he all so found in the kitchen and ran it around her upper chest and neck. She woke up with a violent cry as he covered her mouth.

"I know it's going to feel weird, but I love you," he whispered as she began to look around and remember where she was, and she began to sob and choke on her spit and tears. "No, no Im serious! I have never felt-"

"Fuck you!" she screamed. "Fuck you, you disgusting pedophile! You fucking liar! It's you thats been doing this to all those girls huh?" she asked. He had tied tight knots around her wrists and ankles with nylon pantyhose to pin her down as she pulled squirmed. "Yes," Sonny-boy said solemnly as she began to cry again. "The kitchen light isn't on then, is it?" she asked. He shook his head and Elise closed her eyes and bit down on her lip.

"I won't hurt you," he said. As she looked at him. He sat with his legs pulled on either sides of her as he leaned down and kissed her ever so softly. Her lips pulled back into her tight mouth clamped shut by her teeth. Sonny-boy leaned back up and rubbed her soft face as she began to spit onto her cheeks and he wiped away the drool with the side of his hand. "I really won't hurt you. I'll let you go if you want; I just thought we could have some thing. I didnt need another glance at you. I took one good look and followed you, back here. I dont actually live here." He said as she growled and closed her hands into tight fists around the rope of nylon.

"You're sick," she replied. "I'm not crazy. And I'm not a pervert either. I dont want to film you and me ass fucking or anything. I just--I only take the one's I like home." he said. "Only the ones who make me feel like you do." She looked at him with her infuriated eyes. "I thought you said you didn't live here." She growled.

"And your smart. People like you aren't a dime a dozen, your one in a billion. You're special. I just--could you ever feel anything for me?" he asked. "I can never find a smart, pretty girl like you," She shook her head. "I'm thirteen and three fourths you creep, I dont fuck guys twice my age, and I'm not fucking Juliet. I want to go home, I want to go to school and than, yeah, college and when I'm ready have a husband and a home. Not headfirst for some creep who just kidnapped me." She stated.

Sonny-boy shook his head and rubbed his tired eyelids, "I didn't kidnap you, you came in. " She wretched her hands. "Because you tricked me!" she screamed. He looked down at her and rubbed his gritty hands over his lips. "I didn't have a mother. And it's not because my father's a faggot. She gave me up for adoption when I was three days old. I don't know her name really, but she sent me a postcard once. I dont know where she is now, but I do know shes hopped up on crack. She's a whore. My adopted mom said so, not because she hated me, but so she could warn me never to look for her. I have'nt though, I really dont want to either." he said looking at her. Imagining a future with kids of his own.

"That's very sad and I'm sorry, but I have a mother and you can guarantee she'll be calling the cops as soon as she gets back." Elise hissed. "Well, we better get done what we want done then right?" he asked. "Did you ever feel love for some thing you couldnt have? Some famous person you know in your heart you'll never have? You aren't good enough to have them? I guess that's what it is with my mother. I never had her, only for three days which is nothing. I have no recollection, not even the smell of her perfume. But I guess I took a piece of her, the day I left the womb. It must be. You think she cares?" Sonny-boy asked as Elise stopped moving and stared into the blinding light of the white ceiling. "I know you're going to kill me," she said softly as the tears dried to her face. "You would'nt have just cut lashes into me if you weren't. But I dont care now. Just do it. You like it dont you? You can't get it up unless their dead right?" she hissed. "Well go ahead Sonny. Slit my fucking throat and fuck this useless body until it molds."

To admit she was right would be to defile His work, so instead Sonny-boy stood up and walked out of the room into the kitchen. He walked to a cupboard and scanned his eyes around the cans of soup and vegetables. He pulled out cans of vegetable soup he thought was fit, but nothing seemed right. A final meal should be dignified and refined. Simple and easy. He pulled out a box of cereal, the candy bar hadn't even put a dent in his hunger and she looked hungry as well. He poured two bowls of Cherrios and filled them to the brim with milk. By morning, her soul would be gone. When the police came to collect the evidence, they would be able to taste the evil left like residue next to the blood and bile on the walls. The smell of her perfume mixed with her fear. He walked back into the room and laid the bowl atop her stomach. "I know you're hungry." He sighed. She closed her eyes trying to lose herself in the stinging pain from her chest and the fear. "Are you still a virgin?" he asked as her jaw tightened and she didn't answer. "Most girls, your age, are losing it younger than they should. Most of them want to, dont you?" he asked her.

"No."

"I wont refer to you as 'My Little Whore' if you say yes."

"No! I dont!"

"What if you were raped?" Sonny-boy asked. "Does that count? What if I raped you right now, would you still be a virgin?" he took a giant bite of his Cheerios and licked the milk from the corners of his mouth. "I won't touch you if you dont want. He whispered as he lifted her spoon and pushed it into her lips. They didnt budge as he tried repeatedly. Still, they wouldnt open and he dropped the spoon and shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"Can't you find your own girl friend? Do you have to murder little children you necro-" ;"I guess I don't have to. But He tells me too. He says I can find it in girls." He whispered. "Who's 'He', motherfucker?" Elise asked agitatedly. Him. Sonny-boy said as Elise motioned for the spoon to be brought to her lips. He picked up a well sized amount and shoveled it into her mouth. She chewed fast and licked her lips. "I think you're crazy." She said as he smiled. "Join the parade." He gave her more to the point where there was nothing but milk left. "Now answer my question, if I fucked you right now, would you still be a virgin?" he asked. She shook her head and he eyes seemed to roll around like giant marbles with blood vessels to the point of bursting in her head.

"I'll let you go now, Elise. You can leave, if you can make it to the door by the time I count down to zero from twenty," She nodded as he began to untie the knots around her wrists. Her head began to swirl and her stomach began to ache as well. She thought it was just her imagination, it had only been an hour but she was free. Free from this pervert. Free from every thing here. She stood up and wobbled to the door way. "What did you do to me!" she yelled. "Twenty," he started as she began to stumble and trip to the doorway of the room. Then she fell. "Eighteen," She clutched her abdomen and moaned. Her body landed like a wrecking ball into a building and she began wrenching like a fish out of water. "Fifteen, Elise." Crying and choking, it felt as if her organs were burning. Swelling with fire and brimstone. She was now throwing up this black oil. "No, please, no." she choked unable to yell anymore. "Ten, Elise come on. Time's wasting, Elise. Nine," She managed to balance with her hands and knees hovering over the puddle of bile on the floor as she threw up again. This time emptying the contents of her stomach all over her lap and chest. "Elise! Seven, six-" She looked up at him walking closer and closer to her as she began to slowly crawl to the throw rug at the entrance. "Four," she scratched at the white painted wooden door, struggling for the brass doorknob. "Three, baby." Sonny-boy whispered as she turned it as hard as she could, expecting the cold breeze to blow away what ever was over her. She pulled harder only to find it locked, and her shut in. "One, Elise." Sonny-boy whispered as she tried to stand to push him away. She lightly punched him in the chest as he was barely affected. She sat down and rested against the door now. Given up and good enogh as dead she began to cry and choking on spit as she fell dead to the floor.

"Rat poising baby," Sonny-boy whispered as he picked up her lifeless but still warm body and walked her back to the bed. "I couldn't hurt you anymore alive baby. We could have had some thing, we could have been together. But it has to be like this," He finished what he was aching to do, and when he was done, began what he had to do.

Starting with snapping her fingers from the hand and sewing them with floss into a necklace around her neck. Her face was still the perfect little cherub he started with, then what was left of her neck, and finally to the giant cavity of her chest. Her white bone ribs were still streaked with blood, and he could see her guts and all stuck in small pockets of her perfect body. There was some thing he couldn't even find in her, his angel, where had her soul gone? Did it leave all ready? He did things he never dreamed he would. He reached in and grabbed the now purple heart muscle. Holding it in his hands, he was God.

Wrapping her mushy and bloody carcass, he was God. He kissed her face a final time and contained every thing he wanted into the Ziploc bags, and left. What happened to Sonny-boy was never explained. They never found what was known as 'The Bourbon Street Ripper' and little is known about him. He worked in mysterious ways and with no visible life: He Was God.