I was standing in a quiet alley on the suburban area of Bandung. The flower city, they said; city of angels to me, for the flowers weren’t real flowers. Nevertheless, there’s no soul around, just me, and some trash cans. The dirt covered street is wet of the rain earlier.
Tranquil. Pausing at the moment, enjoying the stars on the night sky. They’re beautiful twinkling tiny little lights among the gloomy cloudy dark sky. I smiled at them, I felt… nothingness surrounds me. I tried to explore my feelings at the moment. I should feel satisfied, I supposed. But nonetheless, I still don’t know how I’m feeling. But I think I can describe what’s on my mind. Part of me recall that according to some psychological writings, I am sick. Self righteous, piteous human! They are so wrong! What I do and why I do is beyond the sickness of the mind or the soul. Other part of me thinks that I am beyond humanity, I am god.
Suddenly her right arm twitched, rushing me back into reality. Surely, she’s dead already, it must have been some kind of neural reflexes left in that skinny little body. She was lying on her back. Fully dressed in a black beautiful night gown, looking good, stained with warm blood all over.
Some might call her, “poor girl”. Well, I really don’t know her name. But I wouldn’t call her “poor girl”. In fact, I wouldn’t pity her. I admire her, I envy her, she’s lucky to have become a part of my transformation tonight. Lying tranquil on the wet alley, I counted eight stab wounds on her body. Inflicted by a knife, my combat knife.
The first wound inflicted on the side of the neck, lateral wound from her left side through to the right side. Instantly paralyzing her. The knife passes through her neck bones, severing the axis segments of her spinal bones. The second and third wound inflicted on the breasts, followed by two other stabs on the abdomen, just below the breasts. I saw tears in her shocked beautiful eyes, and blood flowing from her lips. But she was very quiet.
Her body twitch as I put the sixth on the vagina as she reach her climax. I smile at her, I whisper my congratulation on her ear. She’s already calmed and seeming peaceful when I release her from her mortal coil. Piercing on her weakly beating heart.
Then as my signature, I left my knife vertically on the last wound, on the right eye, inflicted after she passed away.
Very carefully, I took a piece of cloth from my pocket, and wipe the blood off my hands and my face, wipe the handle of the knife, then my leather shoes. I threw the blood covered cloth in a metal drum nearby. Then I took a pair of rubber gloves from my pocket and put them on. I rearrange the body while it’s still warm, I laid the body neatly on the darker side of the alley, both arm above the abdomen, and both leg straight. Then I rearrange the clothes neatly.
Afterwards, I move some plastic bag from other trash cans into the metal drum.
I also took of
my jacket, stained all over with blood,
my trouser, stained all over with blood and
my shirt, stained all over with blood.
I put them all within the metal drum.
From my backpack, I took my changes, and dressed up quickly. Then I walked toward my car to take my letter which I had it prepared carefully the night before. The letter was addressed toward the police and the press, although I am pretty sure that the press wouldn’t get their hands upon this particular letter but the public will certainly have my message. I put the letter inside a clean black plastic bag with a stone heavy enough to keep the plastic bag from being blown away by the cold wind.
I opened my trunk and picked a jar of gasoline. I returned to the body only to put the black plastic bag neatly beside her head. I am almost done with my stage. The last thing to do is to erase all the evidences that would lead toward me unexpectedly. And some kind of distraction, so they would find the body soon.
So I spill the gasoline into the drum. Took off my gloves and throw them inside. Set them ablaze and threw the matchstick inside. The voices in my head tells me the transformation tonight was a success. I returned to my car, put the empty jar back in the trunk, and drive safely toward my parents house.
