Page 25 of Only One More Lie

I would make sure of that.

I jumped onto a snow machine I had stashed out of sight. They’d never catch me now.

I didn’t like to play games. Games were for amateurs. Games were for people who didn’t want to be taken seriously. And I most certainly wanted to be taken seriously.

No games for me. Instead, I gave warnings.

I tried not to follow anything being reported on the news about me. There was no need.

I’d been listening to some of my favorite true crime podcasts while I showered every morning. They were my guilty pleasure.

I’d stumbled uponThe Round Tablepodcast not long ago. I was particularly interested in it because the investigators took on cases from Alaska.

A surprising amount of crime happened in this state, which was actually the third least populated of all the states, despite its vast amount of land.

Then I’d heard a preview of one of their upcoming cases.

It would focus on the December Dismemberer.

Why in the world had the media chosen such a stupid moniker for me? How would anyone ever take me seriously with a name like that?

They had no idea the depth of my anger. Reports made me sound as if I were a villain onScooby-Dooor something. Those characters were cardboard cutouts! Pathetic! I was the real deal, someone to be feared.

I would not be mocked.

Hatred for the media made my blood boil.

In reality, there were very few people I didn’t hate. However, I couldn’t let that show. Most people thought of me as being rather affable, and I wanted to keep it that way. Facades were essential in my line of work.

My line of work being a serial killer, something most people couldn’t say.

I smiled at the thought. I’d never set out to do this. But I didn’t realize murder could bring me so much satisfaction.

Until I tried it.

Soon, I’d strike again.

I pulled off the trail, ready for a break. I was safe and secure here. They’d never catch me. I was so much smarter than they were.

Then I reached into my pocket and pulled out a picture.

The picture of my next victim.

Yes, I’d already picked out the perfect one.

My blood raced. I could hardly wait.

However, what if these podcasters messed things up? I couldn’t let that happen. I needed to deter them.

If anyone could find answers, it would be these guys. These amateurs had been on a streak of good luck, and that bothered me. I needed to end the streak. I’d remained hidden in plain sight all these years. I needed to stay that way.

I couldn’t let these pitiful hobbyists ruin my plan.

But now I wondered if I should change course. Too many unexpected things had happened, making my plans riskier.

No, I decided. I wouldn’t do that. I’d stick to my original plan—with some modifications.

I’d simply add a new plan on top of the old one. A plan to stop them from whatever they were thinking about doing.

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