Introductions
by Daniel Beadle - Thursday, August 30, 2007
Stalker sits at a metal table. His hair is black and long, hanging into his face. It’s unkempt, with the slightest hint of shine.Stalker's eyes are in darkness, visible only by the glint of light reflected from their watery surface. His stubble is such that another few days of it’s continued growth would constitute a beard.
Stalker wears a Gap baseball long-sleeve T-shirt, faded by experience and not design. He also is wearing a black hooded sweatshirt with a brown zipper, beneath a tan Adirondack Abercrombie jacket, marked with random dirt and grease stains, also not by design.
Stalker's fingers are skinny and long, interlocked on the table in front of him. Small bits of darkness are beneath his short fingernails. He is illuminated by the solitary light bulb that hangs immediately over his head.
The background is nothing but a black void, but the echoes of his following words suggest that the room is very large. His voice is gravely, and is full of bass. He sounds like a man awoken prematurely, with words flowing over an out-of-practice set of vocal cords that have the slightest traces of morning phlegm.
Stalker takes a breath after a seemingly eternal silence. “I’m not a very well-adjusted person. In fact, I’m not even sure if I am human.
"I look at your face and I feel an overwhelming sense of… love. I look at you, and all I can think about is how happy I was once. I look at you, and I remember how miserable you’ve made me become. I look at your face and I feel… rage.
"When I finish talking, I am going to do something very unpleasant to you. I don’t quite know what it will be, but I can say that I won’t be able to remember it once it’s done.
"Up to this point, I’ve done some very ugly things. I… removed the scalp of a girl whose hair looked just like yours. I forced a razor blade up the penis hole of man who looked a lot like your new boyfriend. I raped a dead girl in her empty eye-socket because she had gray eyes. But… she doesn’t any more.
"I’ve done ugly things. But none of those things will come even close to the horrific things that I now have to do to you. You see, I’m not who I really am. I’m someone else entirely. Love does that to a person.”
Stalker leans forward into the light, and a massive scar is etched across his face. “I love you. Isn’t that comforting?”
“All men have something to hide; the brighter the picture, the darker the negative.”—Rupert Thorne
