Don't get me started - the serial killer blog

Sonya was the first call-girl I slept with. And she was the only one. I reckon I must have gone with her around a couple of hundred times. We developed a close relationship, shared our most intimate secrets. And it was Sonya who got me started on this whole serial killing thing.

I must have moaned a hundred times about the guy I worked for at the call-centre in Victoria. Sonya always showed, or at least feigned, interest when I told her what a misery he made my life. One day she came up with a solution. She was a Patricia Highsmith devotee and, flicking through 'Strangers on a Train' one day, a light bulb switched on in her head. It just so happened that she was being blackmailed by another call-girl named Amy who knew that she'd legged over her pimp a couple of times. She suggested I kill Amy for her, and she'd kill my boss.

And that's how we both started - and grew to love - killing. I visited Amy one fine day, pretending to be a 'trick', and smothered her with one of her pink polyester-covered pillows. I made it look like some sick bastard got carried away - and I suppose some sick bastard had. Sonya hung around the front of the call centre one night when Ed, my boss was working late and she 'accidentally' bumped into him. He was easy prey, a sex addict who'd go with any half decent woman, whether it involved money or not. He ended up laid out in the back of his Merc., with a stiletto positioned "somewhere in the region of the brain stem" as Sonya recounted. Smart girl, Sonya...

After Amy, I got a taste for this kind of stuff. So it became a bit of a hobby - work commitments allowing. Meanwhile, Sonya, who also grew fond of 'existence management', went on to become a contract killer. This is almost the same thing as a serial killer, except she gets paid. Bit like the difference between bloggers and professional journalists, I suppose.

Nowadays, Sonya and I more often than not just meet for lunch and catch up on the goss'... Just as we did a couple of days ago at her favorite vegan restaurant in Soho. Yes, it seems strange that a cold blooded killer could be a vegan. And she doesn't try to explain it with any 'work ethic' bullshit. She simply says she likes animals more than humans; finds it easy to waste the latter, impossible to slaughter the former. That's what I've always liked about Sonya, she's your classic whore-with-a-heart (or ex-whore).

Every time we meet, I rile her by repeating how alike we are in our 'undertakings'.

"Except I'm a pro," she protests as she toys with her tofu stroganoff.

"So what? You could say I murder for love. Or at least love murder."

"You murder because you're addicted to it. That's different."

"Well you're addicted to the money. That's not a higher moral purpose."

"Maybe I only kill people I want to kill.... for a higher purpose."

"Yeah, right, like all contract killers do."

"Maybe. Depends on who I work for."

"You've never told me who you do work for as it happens."

"That's because if I did, I'd have to kill you."

"Very funny... But of course... not if I killed you first."

"What? You mean, you'd kill me right after I had told you who I worked for?"

"Yeah, right after."

"But what if you liked who I worked for? Then you'd have a dilemma. How could you kill someone like me? You'd simply have to approve of me. You'd hesitate. Bang, I'd kill you."

"You wouldn't kill me if I liked who you worked for? You couldn't kill me then, surely?"

"Yes. I would still. I'm a pro."

"... Who only kills people you want to kill. Right?"

"Actually, George. I know it sounds paradoxical. But, I shouldn't even have hinted just then that I might be working for anyone you could approve of... Or that I could conceivably only kill people I wanted to kill. It sends out a really bad message. So, who knows...? Maybe I'm going to have to kill you anyway."

"I see."

"No you don't. You're an amateur."

to be continued...