Author's Note:
We often learn what is going on inside the mind of a killer through the professionals who analyze them. But in truth we are only seeing what they think the killer is feeling. This is a small glimpse of one man working to achieve his lifelong dream of making things right with mom.
~ Red
The Winter Dance
The light of the moon and stars shone down on Kenneth's artwork. He stepped back admiring the beauty of the ballerina and how her body remained true to the art of the dance he'd asked her to perform. After the performance he had taken her to his bed, brought her to heaven with him and taken her back toward the everlasting clouds, over and over again. It was, in his mind, his gift to her: pleasure for the slight pain her final seconds would bring.
As the wind picked up, tossing the woman's curls from her chilled shoulders, it brought along her fragrance and with it the memory of her honey spilling onto his face and later his cock. He caught the scent of her release and could almost feel her tight channel surrounding his stiff rod. Yet, it was when the look in her eyes started to dim that his artistic nature was finally able to feed. As he came again the image he wanted to recreate came to him. He pulled free of her clenching sex, and watched her quietly embrace whatever or whomever she had faith in.
When she was gone he left her side to don a white robe. He moved quickly, dressing her in a pair of pink tights as well as a matching leotard, and chiffon wrap skirt. The pointe shoes, well known by those in the ballet industry, had been altered. The new design he'd created himself to specifically fit his unique needs. When the time was right they would keep her anchored in the position he found most pleasing.
Because Kenneth deemed himself a master artist, he worked efficiently but also professionally. He applied the proper amount of make-up to what some would call a corpse, and made sure that his subjects facial expression showed the joy she portrayed on the stage. When he stepped back to admire his work, he felt his whole being shiver with excitement. He took several pictures before leaving his study. When he returned, he again worked quickly, covering his ballerina with a white sheet and loading her onto a dolly, which he tilted back and wheeled out to his van.
Kenneth secured the priceless artifact and made his way to a spot on the river, a place he'd picked out earlier in the week. After parking his van he walked around, curious to see if anyone had ventured into the woods that night. When he felt certain that he could display his work without prying eyes, Kenneth hurried to set up his lifelike and lifeless sculpture.
He stepped back to admire his work, and then the clouds parted, allowing the moon and stars to caste their beauty upon his creation. A sigh of pure pleasure slipped past his lips, as did a smile. He knew that when Sheila was discovered it would cause many to gaze in wonder and adoration for the beauty he'd managed to capture and recreate.
He took several snapshots of his ballerina before turning and heading back toward his van. The notion that his DNA lay deeply embedded in the girl did not bother him. DNA only mattered if it could be matched with someone on file. Kenneth grinned as he started his van and pulled away. He was a model citizen who had never fallen under the hammer of a judge, donated blood, offered a fingerprint or been in one spec of trouble. Kenneth was a trusting man and with trust came unaccountability.
Concert in the Park
The sound of laughter and music did little to distract Kenneth as he stared at the woman who had just entered Bennigan's for drinks and a late night meal. He and the short brunette, Jennifer, had been conversing online for several weeks and when he asked if they could meet, she had at first denied him. But the more time they had spent together chatting, the more drawn she had become, at least that is what she had told him. She finally reconsidering meeting him, expressing that she saw it as a sign that it was meant to be.
He rose from the table and quickly closed the distance that separated them. He kissed her cheek, then looped her arm around his. They returned together to the table he had chosen. Glasses of wine already waited as did a small gift and flowers tied together with a red ribbon.
"Kenneth this is too much," Jennifer whispered before sliding into the booth and scooting over.