The Wicked Game of a Psychopath

by Stan Hendriks

  A good hour later, Susan regained consciousness and her head felt as if it was about to crack open and explode. But before she could even comprehend what had happened, she heard Mr. Miller say, “Susie? Are you there?” She picked the phone off the floor, held it close by her ear, and Mr. Miller continued, “There you are. I assume it all got a little bit too much for your short-sighted brain to process?”

  “I’m going to kill you,” Susan replied with a shaky voice.

  “I’m well aware, you don’t have to repeat that constantly. But to prevent any confusion, I should tell you—”

  “No, I don’t want to hear anything more!”

  “You have to listen, Susie, it’s part of the game. And if you have the audacity to cut me off again, I will cut your toes off with a pair of blunt scissors while you’re in dreamland. Is that understood?”

  “I… yes, I understand.”

  “Wonderful. All right, there may be some confusion about multiple things, so, let me elaborate on some things to make them clearer. First of all, you may wonder why all those murders I have committed haven’t been connected to me, well, the answer is simple. I made sure that the murders couldn’t possibly be connected to me. I either made it seem as if it was drug-related, money related, or gang-related. And now you’re confused as to why I now chose to connect the murder of Kyle and Muhammed to me and make it clear that it was done by the same individual. Once again, the answer is simple. It’s part of the game you’re in. Earlier I told you that I couldn’t possibly kill a million men, but that I could kill enough to make the message clear. However, the message isn’t out there yet, because I never connected those murders to myself. But without spoiling too much, the message will soon be out there. It’s actually already pending, figuratively speaking. And you will be the one spreading the message. But worry not, you won’t have to murder anyone, at least not directly. And what more? Ah, you may wonder how many murders I still plan to commit. Where will it end? Well, I can tell you that it’s not going to be many more. I actually have and had a number in mind since I started this. And I won’t surpass that number. How I got that number you may ask. And what is the number? That I cannot disclose just yet, but what I can tell you is how I got the number. One evening, I paid a visit to the casino. I bought myself a drink and sat down behind one of the slot machines and started playing. I pulled the lever many times and my money seemed to disappear into thin air. And why? I had no clue. I guess I wanted to experience the rush people get from gambling. But it was quite disappointing when I came to the realization that I wasn’t even able to experience that. However, when I was done, I received a certain amount of coins from the machine. It were way too many coins to count, but the machine revealed the number of coins I had earned. And when I saw the number, I decided that that would be the number of feminine men I was going to murder. What started as an eventless evening filled with disappointments, eventually turned out to be one of the best evenings in my life. Isn’t that something? Life truly is full of surprises. And oh, how could I forget? Marco, your ex-husband, another one of those pathetic men. You may wonder why I don’t simply murder him as well, but here’s the thing, he already reproduced and is now incapable of reproducing since you forced him to get a vasectomy. Meaning that murdering him now would be pointless. The damage has simply already been done. Anyway, now that I cleared that up, it’s time for me to reveal your next task. Tonight, at nine-thirty, you’re going on three blind dates. So, after you cleaned up your vomit and took a shower, you’re going to buy an elegant red dress and some bright red lipstick. You’re going to put those on and at six-thirty, a limousine will arrive at your house, which will take you to where you need to be. And worry not, I paid for everything.”

  “Blind dates? Are you insane?”

  “It will cheer you up a little and you’ve been single for far too long already. But if you don’t like it then I could always give you another task. A task a little more malicious.”

  “No, no, it’s fine.”

  “Very well. And don’t forget to put those resplendent roses either in or outside of your house. As a matter of fact, that is what you should do first.”

  “Got it.”

  “I’m proud of you, Susie, you’re a strong woman, so strong,” Mr. Miller said as he then hung up.

  Susan closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, only to throw the phone against the wall after and let out a loud and deep scream.

  Later that day, at six-thirty, Susan stood on her driveway with a well-fitted elegant red dress on, red lipstick on, and black high heels on. She looked like a million bucks, but she felt far from it. Her thoughts were elsewhere and knowing that she was forced to play along with this wicked and mentally torturing game was slowly tearing her up from the inside. But she had to keep going, and by thinking of the ending of the game, she raised her head and took a deep and determined breath. Right at that moment, a black limousine with tinted windows pulled up and stopped right in front of her. As she walked up closer to the limousine, the door automatically opened, and the driver didn’t get out. She hesitated for a while, but then got into the limousine and closed the door behind her. The limousine then drove off and a digital voice said, “Welcome, Susan Wilson. There is wine in the fridge, feel free to take as much as you like. I hope you enjoy this trip and your dates. And if you have any questions, you can push the button which is located on top of the fridge. Have a lovely evening.”

  Without a shadow of a doubt, Susan immediately pushed the button, but nothing happened. She repeatedly tried but got the same result. “Of course,” Susan sighed.

  About roughly three hours later, they arrived in Fresno, California. The limousine stopped in front of a hotel that had a restaurant and a terrace on the roof. The door once again automatically opened up and Susan got out and took a good look around. The hotel porter then walked up to her and asked, “Susie Wilson?”

  “It’s Susan.”

  “My apologies, I was told otherwise. But please, follow me. I will take you to the roof where your dates will take place.”

  Susan did just that and followed the porter into the elevator and they went all the way up.

  The restaurant was cozy and romantic, and the terrace provided a beautiful view of the city. The hotel porter walked her over to her table on the terrace and pulled the chair out. “Thank you,” Susan said as she took a seat.

  “No problem. The waiter will be with you in a second. Have a nice evening,” the porter said as he then walked away.

  The waiter then came over and as he lit the candles on Susan’s table, he asked, “Would you like anything to drink or to eat?”

  “A red wine will do.”

  “Red wine is coming up. I will be right back,” the waiter said with a smile as he then walked off.

  In the three hours that followed, Susan met her dates, Wallace, Ben, and Marvin, and although they were friendly and kind, there were a lot of awkward silences. They weren’t the type of men Susan was looking for and her head being elsewhere didn’t make it any better. So, she took a deep and relieving breath when Marvin left, and the dates were over. She went through a bottle and a half of red wine and she was glad that nothing gruesome had happened and she hoped that it would stay that way. But, of course, Mr. Miller had something else in mind. As Susan stood up, the waiter walked over to her and without saying a word, he gave her a white envelope and then proceeded to clean the table. In the envelope was a red note, and on the note was a phone number written. “Excuse me, is there a phone here? I forgot mine,” Susan asked.

  “Sure, you can go over to the bar and they should have a phone which you can use.”

  “Thank you,” Susan said as she then walked over to the bar. There she asked the young lady behind the bar for a phone and the lady gave it to her without a problem. She then dialed the number and waited. “Susie, were the dates a success? Have you met your soulmate?”

  “No. But I think you can understand that I’m not exactly in the m
ood for dates.”

  “But, of course, you currently have so much on your mind. Anyway, apart from you not being in the mood, why did those men not meet your expectations?”

  “They were friendly and kind, and it was clear that they all had the best intention. And on top of that, they were handsome. However, there was no connection. Every time I stopped talking, the conversation got quiet.”

  “I see. Let me paint out a certain situation. A man and a woman are in a relationship. The man is almost done at work and texts his girlfriend if he should pick up some food. And if yes, what kind of food? Chinese or Thai food? The girlfriend responds saying that both are fine for her and that he has to choose. The boyfriend then says that for him it doesn’t matter as well and that she can pick. But the girlfriend wants the boyfriend to take the lead for once and says once again that for her it doesn’t matter and that he should pick. This goes back and forth for a while until eventually, the girlfriend is so fed up that she decides to just make the decision herself, once again. Disappointed, she throws the phone away and her attraction for him has once again dropped dramatically. Tell me, Susie, what type of man is the boyfriend?”

  “Uhm… just a man? I don’t know where you’re going with this.”

  “The boyfriend is a feminine man. And what frustrates his feminine girlfriend, is that she has to use her masculine side in order for that relationship to work. She wants a man, not another emotional child that is afraid to make even the simplest decisions. So, me reducing the numbers of feminine men is me not only doing a favor to the world, but also to women.”

  “Are you trying to convince me that your actions are justified or are you trying to convince yourself?”

  “No, I’m simply providing you with some more information. And in case you haven’t figured it out yet, the men you just had dates with also classify as feminine men. And it frustrated you, having to be one that keeps the conversation going, didn’t it?”

  “I’m not going to answer that.”

  “No problem, we will get back to this later. Anyway, the night isn’t over yet. I had you call me because you’re going to be brought to a special place. A place that is close to my heart, filled with people who see the world as it truly is. It’s a rather exclusive club for likeminded people who share similar interests and aren’t afraid to express their sickening, malicious, and dark thoughts.”

  “And why do I have to go there?”

  “I think it will give you some clarity and provide you with a couple of unique and different perspectives on life and humanity. But here’s the thing, there a couple of strict rules that you have to follow. Once you arrive at the location, you will be asked for your name and for the person who invited you. You will tell that your name is Susie, and the person who invited you is number two. Then you will receive a badge with a number on it. Be sure to put that badge somewhere on your dress where people can see it, as no one addresses each other by name. And for your information, do not ask people what their name is, nor ask them where they live or what they do for a living. Asking those types of questions can cost you your life. Is that understood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. And when people ask you for your name, you tell them your number, whatever that may be. And when they ask what you do for a living, you tell them that you find psychology intriguing, that’s all. They may ask these questions to test you, to see if you’re one of them or not. But once you pass the test, feel free to engage in some conversations. And who knows, maybe you will learn a thing or two, just be sure to open yourself up to their ideas and viewpoints. Understood?”

  “Yes, but for how long do I have to stay there?”

  “At least an hour, after that you’re free to leave whenever you want. The limousine will be waiting outside the club and once you step inside of the limousine again, you will be brought back home. But all right then, have a wonderful time, Susie. I will speak to you tomorrow again,” Mr. Miller said as he then hung up.

  Susan slowly laid the phone down on the bar and the lady asked, “Bad news?”

  “You have no idea. Anyway, thank you for letting me use the phone,” Susan replied as she then walked out of the hotel.

  Later that night, the limousine drove up a small hill to a mansion which was a couple of miles away from Fresno. Plain fields and tall trees surrounded the mansion and in the front of the mansion were lots of luxurious and expensive cars parked. The limousine stopped in front of the red carpet which led all the way up to the front doors, and the door of the limousine automatically opened up. Susan got out and immediately noticed how quiet and cold it was outside. It was as if she had been dropped off into a scene of a horror movie. But nonetheless, she walked over the red carpet and entered the mansion. There was a long and dark corridor which lots of doors on each side, and at the end stood a desk with an old lady behind it. The lady had her glasses half an inch down the nose, her hands crossed, and if looks could kill, Susan would have been dead already. “Please come forward,” the old lady said. Susan did just that and when she arrived at the desk, the old lady asked, “Name?”

  “Susie.”

  “First time here?”

  “Yes.”

  The old lady then went through a stack of papers and picked one out. She attentively read it and after that, she asked, “What do you do for a living?”

  “I find psychology intriguing.”

  The old lady slightly nodded and grabbed a badge, with number forty-six written on it, and gave it to Susan. “Who invited you?”

  “Number two,” Susan replied as she clipped the badge on her dress.

  “Number two?” the old lady asked with a confused and slightly shocked expression on her face.

  “Yes.”

  “I… never mind,” the old lady said as she cleared her throat. “You may take the door on your left and go downstairs. Have a pleasant night.”

  “Thank you,” Susan replied as she opened the door on her left and walked down the circular steel stairway.

  Downstairs, she walked into a circular room. The lights were dimmed, and the room was filled with mahogany furniture and paintings of people committing violent acts. The bookshelves were filled up with books about dark psychology and there were about twenty well-dressed people in there, drinking out of medieval-looking cups. Each of them had evil looking grins and smirks on their faces and took tremendous pleasure out of talking and imagining about taking someone’s life. And they loved talking about their horrific definition of natural selection. Susan felt uncomfortable and completely out of place, but she had to stay there for about an hour. And the last thing she wanted was people to get suspicious of her. So, with her head raised and a naughty smirk on her face, she walked over to a table at which an older man was seated. Number fifteen. She took a seat across from him and said, “Lovely night, isn’t it?”

  The man then grabbed another glass, poured a blueish beverage in it, and gave it to Susan. “It sure is.” Susan winked and then took a sip. “First time here?”

  “Yes, but I feel at home already. It’s difficult in this day and age to find people who share similar thoughts and interests.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. We live in an odd world, a world in which people are afraid to embrace their darker side. Everyone has that darker side to them, but most are fearful to fully embrace and accept it. But little do they know how much clarity and freedom it gives once they do. But then again, not everyone can be as perfect and unique as us. Here we are free to express all our deepest and darkest thoughts and desires. If you ask me, this is heaven on earth.”

  “Yes, I’m glad that I was able to find this place. A place at which I can fully be myself and feel at home.”

  “And we are glad about that as well, a unique mind like yourself is always more than welcome here.”

  “Thank you,” Susan said as she raised her glass.

  The man did the same and then asked, “But may I ask what’s on your mind?”

  “Lately I have been surr
ounded by a tremendous amount of stupid people. People who keep going against me as if they know everything better while they have the brain capacity of a rat. It makes my blood boil to the point where I want to stab my pencil right into their eyes and cut out their tongues.”

  “I can totally relate. But I do wonder, what stops us from doing just that?”

  “That is a puzzling question, one which I cannot answer.”

  “I guess it has something to do with our upbringing and our morals, maybe even a combination of both.”

  “And let’s not forget the fear of going to prison and being labeled as a criminal.”

  “Oh, definitely. But still, it makes life for people like us difficult at times. You see, this morning I had a client. I’m a dentist, by the way.” The man didn’t notice it, but Susan saw that everyone in the room got quiet and turned their heads. “And this client was petrified of me. In fact, this was his first time visiting a dentist. But I told him that nothing bad was going to happen and that it would be all right, but he kept resisting and doubting my abilities, which was, of course, highly disrespectful. At that moment, I wish I would have pulled his teeth out, one by one, and then beat him to the point at which my white coat would have turned red. I—”

  But before the man could get another word out, a nearly seven-foot-tall bouncer came in the room followed by the old lady from upstairs. “Number fifteen, please step forward,” the old lady said.

  The man stood up and was trembling in fear. “Is there a problem?” the man asked with a shaky voice.

  The bouncer then walked up to the man and with a blank expression on his face, he grabbed a pocket knife out of his pocket, slit the man’s throat, and then threw him over his shoulder. Susan was on the verge of vomiting, losing consciousness, crying, and screaming all at the same time, but she had to remain calm, or she was going to be next. “My apologies, but we have to cut the night short. I wish you all a safe trip home and I hope to see you next month, thank you,” the old lady said as she and the bouncer, who had the man over his shoulder, then walked up the stairs again. The people couldn’t care less about what had happened to the man, they were simply bumped that they had to leave so early, but Susan was more than glad and was the first one to leave. She nearly ran out of the mansion and immediately got into the limousine and shouted, “Go, go! What are you waiting for?!” The limousine then drove off and Susan took a deep and relieving breath. “Oh, what… what the fuck is going on here?! What is happening?!” Little did she know that she was going to get an answer straight away as the phone in the limousine rang. Susan picked it up and Mr. Miller asked, “I assume the night was cut short?”