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THIS WAS A CUSTOM CLIP, FOR YOUR OWN FILL OUT MY CUSTOMS FORM! NO NAMES WERE USED.

I sit on the edge of my bed, the glow of the television flickering against the walls. On the screen, I’m watching a recording from my own camera. I study my movements—the way I took control, the precision of it all. I can't help but smile; I look powerful. I trace my own neck with my fingers, mimicking the grip I used, feeling the adrenaline return. I whisper to the empty room, "I’m ready for the next one." Suddenly, the screen cuts to a newsflash. They found the body. The reporter mentions the "m*le" suspect and the evidence left behind. I burst out laughing. The police are so predictable. They found exactly what my helper left for them—the perfect distraction to keep them off my trail. He does the messy work, and in exchange, he gets to be part of my masterpiece. The doorbell rings. I open the door to find a female agent standing there, looking concerned. I give her my best "innocent neighbor" smile and invite her in. "Please, take your shoes off," I say politely, "I just polished the floors." She thanks me and steps inside, c*mpletely unaware of the irony. As she briefs me on the "m*le" serial around, I find it harder to hide my amusement. I walk closer to her, watching her pulse jump in her neck. "You know," I say, my voice dropping an octave, "I have a theory. I think the person you're looking for is actually a woman. Someone who knows exactly how to use her hands." The look of realization on her face is delicious. Before she can react, I lunged. She’s trained, she’s strong, but my resolve is stronger. We struggle across the floor, and I feel that familiar rush of dominance. "Fighting back only makes this better," I tell her, my face inches from hers. "You’re not the first to try, and you certainly won't be the last." I watch her closely as she begins to weaken, noting every detail of the struggle. I want her to see the triumph in my eyes. "Stay still, darling," I whisper. "You’re about to become part of something much bigger than yourself." When it’s finally over, I stand up and smooth my clothes. I look down at her and feel a sense of accomplishment. Another one for the collection. I c*ll out to my helper. "She’s ready for you. Make sure the evidence is placed perfectly, I want the police to stay exactly as confused as they are right now." I watch him work for a moment, then I sit back down, listening to the silence of the house, already planning my next move.

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