Yes, My Name is Vicious!

Phonesex with Vicious

They say I belong here in the Freakshow due to a few little mishaps on My behalf. By Mishaps I mean I was not as thorough as I thought I was during one of the clean ups. Such a stupid mistake, but no matter, I will do what I have to do to worm My way into the good graces of the management here. I have a high IQ, I am well educated, and I can make people trust Me because I come across as “nice”. Poor, poor dears. That is how I found them you know. By using My brain, and my pseudo nurturing nature. They all came to Me, I did not have to hunt anyone down. It’s not my fault if they were too stupid to see through everything. They deserved what I gave them, I freed them from their pathetic lives.

I remember the first time I realized that I could get away with ‘freeing Souls’. I was at a friend’s house, we were studying for our calculus mid-term. She looked at me and said, “I wish he was dead.”, she was speaking about her ex-boyfriend who had hurt her by cheating on her. I do not know if it was the way she said it, or the way she looked when she spoke those words, but something clicked. My brain went into over drive, I came up with a way to give My friend the gift that she wanted. It was only later, when they found him, hanging from those Meat Hooks, with his flesh flayed away, teeth scattered on the floor, genitalia burned off with acid, that she told Me with tears running down her face that she loved him and did not really mean that she wanted him dead, and that she was just saying that to people because she was upset. What a silly bitch she was, but I honestly did not care what she was feeling. I was reliving each image from My play time with him in my head, day after day, and night after night. I was never even questioned.

Vicious’s PeepShow

I went on to a University in England to finish my studies. I earned My degrees in Psychology and Biology, which helped Me ever so very much in my new found obsession of collecting. You see, after that first taste, I understood that there was something more savory about prolonging My play time. I wanted everything to last as long as possible. I would collect those who would not be missed, keeping them tucked away in My ‘collection room’. It took some doing, but eventually their psyche broke and I could do with them what I wanted, whenever I wanted. Once in a while My thirst was not quenched just playing with My collection, so I would go out for some rogue play.

Then came My last adventure, stupid bitch grabbed a piece of My hair off the rain gear I was wearing and held onto it. They found it in her tiny clutched hand, which then lead them to Me and My collection. I did get a certain satisfaction when one of the Police Officers came up from My Collection Room heaving and trying not to throw up. I had to laugh. I thought it very funny, they however, did not.

So now, here I am, labeled as a dangerous freak, among these true freaks. Even though there are some sick women here, I enjoy being in their company, and their stories of deeds that they have done. It’s like I am back in My office, listening to My patients, but most importantly their stories; for the most part; transport Me back to My collecting days. I think I will like My new home.

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