Their expressions differed each time, some pleading, others defiant, but the terror was always present. More exciting than their writhing bodies, their naked fear was addictive. No other thrill could ever be as satisfying as gazing into victims’ eyes when the realisation hit them that they were going to die, no revenge as fitting as the power to end a life in righteous execution. The death penalty was delivered in secret, but that was fine too. The knowledge that justice had been served was its own reward. Other people might not understand, but there was a higher power whose approval was assured.

Death had not been the original intention, but it was difficult to ensure their silence without it. Removing the first victim’s tongue had seemed like a clever idea which had proved horribly messy. In the end, it had been impossible to spare the woman’s life. In no time at all she had choked to death, but not before she had lost a lot of blood. The memory was still sickening, even after such a long time.

Moving the corpse would have been pointless once she was dead because it was obvious she had been killed on her own blood-soaked bed. So she had remained there, a bloody heap of flesh, until eventually someone must have stumbled on her body. But by then, it was all over.

After that, there had been no more blood. Apart from the mess, it was too unpredictable. Every physical touch left a trace, leading to the risk of identification by some overzealous forensic team. Suffocation required no direct contact with the victim, alive or dead. And there was no blood. Given that death was unavoidable if the victim was to remain silent, suffocation had to be the most sensible option. With a suitable method established, it was simply a matter of selecting the next victim.

Unsuspecting women proved surprisingly easy to come by.

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