“It’s not like I wanted to do this.
I didn’t. It just happened.
Look at me Mr. FBI  you think I am pretty, I appeal to your senses” she said confidently.
She smiled her sultry smile, moved closer, brushed my hair with her finger tips, her breath on my face, she said in a seductive voice
“You want me
They died because they wanted to bite my lips, tear me apart, they wanted to squeeze and suckle on  these” she touched her breasts.
I was embarrassed but that was her way, things were going her way, we had no other choice.
It was a hot July Monday, the AC in the interrogation room was on full blast but the room was getting hotter every minute. She was appealing, I had to keep my mind focused. Focus, I had to focus on the task at hand, me and my team wanted answers- why?
We found our fist victim on New Year’s eve 2010, he was naked with his genitals cut off lying on the snow in route 96, a woman driving by saw the body and called the police immediately,  after  they discovered 2 more bodies  we were called in to help. We created a profile, for almost a year we thought the killer was a man, a homosexual man, we haven’t had many women serial killers and we never thought a woman could kill so mercilessly. I was the lead profiler on this case, I ate, I breathed, I lived this case. I wanted to meet her, the woman who killed good looking and successful men with out flickering an eye lash.  5 bodies, no suspects and vague witnesses the case was going no where. I was frustrated, angry, I was failing myself. I was engaged, in love but Miranda decided to walk out on me, she felt I gave this case more priority than her, than us. When Miranda walked out I made her (I like to refer to the killer as her because at that time I didn't know her name) my goal, if I found her I would be triumphant, that’s when I decided to devote myself in finding her.
She whistled in my ear and snapped her fingers
“Wake up” she said. My goal, I should feel triumphant.
There she was wearing red stilettos and a body hugging black dress, she came in voluntarily, I guess she dressed up  for the occasion. After Miranda left I started receiving letters, they were from her, every time from different addresses, in one of the letters she mentioned how she thought my ex fiance was ugly and I was better off with out her, she said she wanted to meet me and she wanted to look her best when she did. Now here she is looking like a goddess, only this goddess doesn't have a halo around her, she has bloody hands and a sick mind. The entire department stood still when she walked right to my desk and said “where can we get some privacy?”, I made her my goal, she made me to some extent the object of her affection.

The interrogation room.

She wanted to play games, I waited for her for 2 years, I was not interested in playing her games.
Her gaze were fixated on me, I swear I didn't even see her blink. It felt as if she was looking straight through me. Her focus on me made me quiver, it felt like she knew all my secrets. I am not a good man, I have done things that I am not proud of.
“I have studied you Richard, day in and day out, you were looking for me and I had already found you
I thought you would recognize me, we had this bond. You are so dumb. You wanted me and I was throwing myself at you” she laughed a wicked laugh, she ran  her long nails covered in blood red nail polish through her dark brunette hair
She was the puppeteer and I was her puppet.
I remember Miranda had recently walked out of my life and there  was this beautiful woman always smiling at me, welcoming me,every day when I went to get my coffee at the Main St Starbucks,  I couldn't resist  so one day I invited her to drink with me. I met her that night at a bar near Main St, she lived in the same neighborhood, she was smart, sexy, funny, beautiful what more could a heart broken, frustrated man ask for. She seemed so genuinely interested in me, in things I did, I was in an awe of her. That night as I drove her home she asked if I wanted to go up to her apartment and talk for a while, I couldn't say no.  We were in her living room, I sat on the couch, while she went to get something to drink, she came smiling slyly, “ I have a treat for you” she said, placed the bottle and the glasses on the table and took her dress off.
She was stunning and I was surprised but I am a man. She sat on top of me, undid my belt and my pants, she slid her hands inside my pants, held my penis and kissed me vigorously. I was aroused, I wanted to fuck the living day lights out of her, I threw her on the couch, undressed my self, she whispered in my ears “I like it wild and rough, you better spank me hard” , that night I  let out my anger and agitation, I was aggressive, she liked it that way and I was - stress free.
“What are you thinking?” She said.
“Why?” I asked
“I am not in the mood to discuss it”
“That’s why you are here”
“I wanted to see you”
“Don’t play games. I am done with your games’
“Oh! Poor baby did mama hurt your feelings” she said and laughed again
I was starting to get angry.
“Just fucking tell me!” I yelled
“You look hot when you are angry, I could make you angrier”
“I want to know why you killed those men, please I beg you, things are going your way aren’t they, please ” I pleaded, that was my last resort.
We continued seeing each other, I needed a friend and she was there, I needed a lover and she was there, I needed a confidant, there she was and sex was always awesome.
I told her how the “Killer Lady” as the media had named her had taken over my life. I told her about the case and how we had no leads, I showed her the letters, she was so understanding and she empathized with me, she was just perfect. She always assured me we would, I would catch her, I told her I wouldn’t be in peace till I found her. Jane had become my safe harbor, I knew I would always be thankful for  her.
“You want to know why?, I will tell you why”
“ See, Richard, men think with their penises, I know this because those men I killed only wanted sex, the kinkier the better, even if it meant strangling, whipping spanking, even when it involved a  knife they didn’t say no to sex, so what do you expect me to do with those men, worship them? No, no, adore them? Fuck no, kill them- YES.
At times being pretty is a curse, ever since I was a little girl, say 8 years old men wanted to get inside my pants. See, my mom and dad were extremely religious people we were forced to be religious too, every thing revolved around god. My brother and I were 8 years apart, my parents loved him very much, they called me the Devil’s child, I suppose my brother was the God’s child. I remember on my 8th birthday, I was lying on my bed when my brother entered my room, mom and dad were already asleep. He said he had a surprise me, he told me to take my clothes off if I wanted the surprise, I did and he he took his off too, he touched me and made me touch him, every where,  every where, I was only 8 and my surprise was a bag of candies. A fucking bag of candies” she yelled.
She was filled with rage. She got up for her chair and walked towards the wall, she stood facing the wall and screamed.
“When I was 10 I told my mom that her son was touching me, she said I bought it on myself, it was God’s way of teaching me a lesson, lesson for what though?, God loves his children. My brother raped me till I was 16, 8 years of abuse and rape. So, when I turned 18 I left that house to start a new life but I couldn’t do it, I hated men, I couldn’t let any one in, that’s when I knew what I had to do. I went back to our parents’ house, I was 22 then my brother was living alone at that time, I seduced him that night, he took his thing out and I cut it, it made me feel ecstatic than I stabbed him again and again, it was so euphoric, I knew I couldn’t stop doing it, I needed it to feel good”
 “ Why didn’t you kill me Jane, I am also a man, I fell for you?” I asked, I was hurt. Yes, I was very hurt.
You can imagine my surprise when I saw Jane walk straight to my desk, I assumed she wanted to say hi but she wanted privacy I thought she was pregnant or wanted to break up, but she sat on that fucking chair with no remorse and she continued to play her game and she continued to win.
“Oh poor Richard, I have seen men hang onto their dear life, I have seen them gasping for their last breath, the excitement in that disappears as they lay lifeless on the ground. Your suffering will last for a long time, every time you see me or I see you or even think about you, I will get pleasure in knowing you are suffering, you will never heal, you will be just like me, you will be punished like those men but your pain will last long, like mine did, you will relive the pain again and again"
“Why me?”
“Because you are one of them, just  another man”.