My One Hundred

[saltinespike]

--And… it’s on!

 

--Ok, cool, so what am I supposed to do again?

 

--Whatever you want. I’m not picky. But if you really need an answer, start with your name.

 

--My name is Andrea. And I… am so drunk… that… GOD!!!

 

--Haha, that’s real nice. You had enough to fuckin’ drink, Jesus.

 

--Yeah, it’s a party! Woo!

 

--So, like, just tell me about yourself, what’s goin’ on?

 

--I don’t even know. I’m just… woo!

 

--Yeah?

 

--Whoa! I swear I just saw eyes behind that vent. Whoaaa, hahahaha!

 

--That’s weird; maybe that’s why I can’t get any heat in here! Haha.

 

--I know, it’s like a fucking freezer. So what do you want to know?

 

--Well, where you from?

 

--Well I was born in Boise, but moved to Oregon when I was, like, three. Thennn I moved again to Puerto Rico when I was eight, then to Reno when I was thirteen, but I stayed when my parents moved to Maine when I was eighteen.

 

--Oh, right on. So how old are you now?

 

--Twenty-two.

 

--Oh yeah? Good to know the cops won’t show up on my front doorstep saying I raped you.

 

--Haha, no need for that. So what is this film for? So you have something to beat off to when you’re lonely?

 

--Something like that.

 

--This is just for you? Like, this isn’t going on the internet or anything, is it?

 

--No, no. Just for me. I don’t have internet anyways. Even if I did, it would suck. Power goes out sometimes.

 

--Really? I’m terrified of the dark. I could never live like that.

 

--Why are you scared of the dark?

 

--Um, a long time ago, when my dad would get mad, he wouldn’t beat us with a belt or anything like that. He did what he called “the real time out”. He would turn off the light and lock the door, at night. So we would sit there, scared shitless, until he came back. He would shake the door violently before he finally opened it. And I remember that we would always run out toward the light, the bathroom light. Heh.

 

--I used to be afraid of the dark, when I was a kid. Ghosts, can you believe that shit? I used to be so scared of ghosts. Then I learned that sometimes you can be afraid of the right things for the wrong reason.

 

--Why, what happened?

 

--Eh, this is a story about you, not me. By the way, would you want a copy?

 

--Sure. Do you need my address?

 

--No need. I’ll leave it with you.

 

--What do you mean leave it with me?

 

--When you go…

 

--Oh. So what’s with all these pictures of people?

 

--All of the people I’ve filmed before you. For $200, I get a picture and a film. We’ll take one when this is all over, like the others. Sound good?

 

--What about the ones that are all scribbled out?

 

--They wouldn’t let me film them, so I scribbled out the only memory of them.

 

--Your only memory?

 

--What?

 

--Huh?

 

--I’m confused.

 

--Me too.

 

--So what would happen when you ran into the bathroom?

 

--What?

 

--After you ran from the darkness of your room. What would you do in the bathroom?

 

--I never made it. My dad would always stop me and throw me back in. ‘Cept he wouldn’t leave this time. When I thought there was nothing worse than the darkness. It was him and the darkness.

 

--What did he do?

 

--Raped me. Fucker raped me; every fucking time.

 

--Wow. What’s he doing now?

 

--He’s dead. My mom killed him. Now she’s in prison. For life.

 

--Jeez, and you?

 

--What about me?

 

--Any criminal history?

 

--Petty crime. That’s about it. Four hours in jail once. For battery.

 

--Kicked her ass?

 

--His. Stabbed his ass.

 

--What happened?

 

--Tried to rape me.

 

--So you went berserk? Haha.

 

--Pretty much! What time is it?

 

--Like 3 in the damn morning.

 

--I should probably get going.

 

--Did you ever enjoy it?

 

--What?

 

--Your dad. Did you ever enjoy it? I could just see you now. “Oh, daddy!”

 

--Fuck off! You don’t know anything about me!

 

--Oh, I know quite a bit about you. You told me, remember? “He shoved me back into my room but wouldn’t leave.”

 

--You fucking prick! I’m leaving! …Move or I will fucking stab you!

 

--Stab me.

 

--What?

 

--Fucking stab me! I could fucking kill you! Take two steps out of that door and you will die. I promise.

 

--Stop! No! Stop it! I will fuckin’… NO!!! People will miss me! They’ll take you down.

 

--What gives you the impression that I haven’t heard that before? Look around! You see all those faces? They all said the same thing!

 

--Mmph! Mmm mmmmm mmm mmmmmm!!! MMMMMMM!!!!!

 

--Oh, well that’s nice. A fucking squirter. Bitch is gonna stain these damn clothes. My favorite. Oh well. May as well put her in with the others…… Ugh. Tomorrow night: happy hour. Fun stuff.

Edited January 4, 2009 by saltinespike

[Oxidizer]

What can I say? That was probably some of the darkest, most creepiest stuff I've ever had the (dis)pleasure of reading.

 

Most excellent stuff! And I like the way it's written as a kind of screen play (if that's the word).

Edited July 31, 2007 by Oxidizer

[Ryunday]

Got to agree whith Oxidezer

[Sinful]

Simple and clean.

 

Liked it, really did.

[Land Of Confusion]

Whoa.....

 

 

Nice...sounds like what a real serial killer would do...

[Oblivionz]

When I started to read it, I didn't think he was a murderer at all. But at the end, that sh*t was pretty creepy. Keep it going if you want, I'll keep reading.

[saltinespike]

It made a pretty fitting end, so I'm not going to continue.

 

On a personal note, for those who did not notice, I was gone for two weeks. I'm back! :]

[The Unvirginiser]

Wow, what can I say?

Amazing piece, congratulations, im very impressed!

Whats the title all about?

[saltinespike]

Implies that it is his 100th victim.