SMOTHER

Epilogue

I’m staring at the noose which I have made for myself!

When we met in Glasgow, Scotland, Sandra and I were young, studying at the city's university. I was walking around one of the city's beautiful gardens when I saw her sitting on a bench alone. She seemed reflective but was not a beauty, and I didn't care. Why should I? I had only one thing in mind. I sat beside her and asked her if she minded me sitting there.

This meeting is how I managed to hook my first victim.

We talked for a long time, and when I asked if I could see her again, she invited me to her flat for the evening.

Sandra was quite a character, talkative and intelligent. I was kneeling with my head between her legs. I knew this night was an adventure of my beautiful desire from the beginning!

I was very excited like a child expecting his first Christmas present. Our bodies ached for each other.

I knew that I had freed my demon within.

I gazed at her and kissed her passionately; she slowly kissed back with strong feelings. I bit her violently on her bottom lip, and she screamed with joy and sensual pleasure. Our arms were combating each other without dislike. My mind was unbelievably relaxed; after all, this was the only time I would make love to her. I was on top of her wet body and was ready to penetrate her.

"This is for you, father!"

This statement was the thought rushing through my mind as I started to fuck her. Although I was angry and filled with hateful thoughts of certain women, I loved having sex with them. She did not mind my strong attitude towards my response to her; in fact, she was enjoying it so much that she crossed her legs around my back and moaned passionately.

Apart from my evil thoughts and our naked, sweaty bodies, nothing was left at all.

I felt tears in my eyes. There was no love, only lust. I knew she was under my control and thought this was the time to execute my revenge for my mother's transgressions.

"This is for you, father!"

This time, I shouted it, and while I was still inside her, I took one of the pillows, placed it on her face and pushed hard.

My feelings were now beyond ecstatic, and there was no other way to convey my emotions precisely. I pushed until there was no movement or a hint of life.

After my deed ended, I pulled out of her, noticing that even my sexual emotions died. I looked at her helplessly, dead. I kissed her face and got up, still caressing her in my arms. It was a moment of triumph. I smiled and pushed her body away. I dressed and took out a piece of paper with just one word:

S M O T H E R ! made of newspaper cuttings and placed on her now-defunct body. I moved to the bedroom door and looked at her again. "I shall never forget you, Sandra. You are the start of my oblivion."

I was out in the fresh, cold night air. At first, I walked, and then I ran as fast as possible. I felt out of breath, but I couldn't stop. My adrenaline was at its maximum height. I slowed down and looked around me before stopping at my door. I looked again, and no one was around. When satisfied, I grabbed the keys from my jacket pocket and opened them. I went straight into the bathroom and washed my hands thoroughly, wiping them on a damp towel. Washing my hands was instinct; I don't know why I did that. Then I stripped naked, took all the clothes to the kitchen, and placed them in the washing machine. After that, I returned to the bathroom and had a much-needed shower. I dried myself well and went to the living room, sitting on an old armchair without concern. I smiled and closed my eyes. When I woke up, I felt freezing; why not? I went back to the bathroom and had another shower. I was comfortable now. I made myself a full breakfast and many cups of coffee. Later, I went to the front door and picked up the newspaper delivered to me daily. I sat down again, and this time, I poured whisky into the coffee cup and perused the paper. There was no news of the killing yet; how could there be?

I am now working in a hotel as a barman. I quit university and moved to Manchester, England. I can only say that I have lived like a human over the last two years. I have no regrets. All I had were memories that reminded me of the stain in my heart. I am enjoying life, I date women, and I have never thought of any wrongdoing.

The demon was asleep.

How do my dormant demons wake up? In truth, I do not know; I had never thought about it. But when it does, it doesn’t leave me in peace. It keeps badgering my mind, tormenting my heart until I do something about it.

Although I worked hard, I also drank heavily. When on duty, I never refused any drink from customers, which was frequent. After work, I went out with women or stayed at home watching television and had a few whiskies.

That particular night was tempestuous, and I know it was the night of my arousal. The demon was fully awake and was made splendid by the actions that awaited me. It was about seven, a cold night in mid-February. The storm was announcing its arrival.

I strolled to the public park, which was not far from where I lived, but was not in a great hurry. I knew exactly where I was going and whom I would find. I was looking for a particular woman who did nothing but watch for men to get laid with and sip alcohol from her flask, which she carried in her handbag.

After this night, she will not touch a drop again. I made that a solemn promise.

The storm came but did not last long, and the weather cleared up quickly. No harm done.

When I arrived at the park, it was empty, and the night was closing fast. I arrived in plenty of time and saw her sitting quietly with crossed arms. I stopped and looked around me, and when I was satisfied with my surroundings, I moved towards her and politely asked her if I could sit beside her.

She wouldn’t have been so pleased to accept the quarter bottle of whisky I offered her to drink from if she knew what was in it. I sat with her for a while; she was so delighted with the whisky, hoping I would invite her for a shag.

She was not thinking wrongly there. I asked her if she would like to come with me, and without hesitation, she accepted. I took her to my car and drove to a Premier Inn on the city’s outskirts. I booked in as Mr and Ms Bundy. I thought that was funny. It did not take us very long to strip naked and indulge in our bodies. My lips were full of desire, and I took the opportunity. When she felt my groping tongue, her legs spread wide open. When I was finished, I grabbed a pillow and smothered her with it.

It took longer than I thought as she fought for her life. Finally, I turned on my back, looking at the ceiling with a smile of satisfaction on my face. I was not in a hurry to leave. I had all night if I wanted to. I knew that the demon would not let me live in peace until I killed another woman. I also knew I had to leave the city, probably south or east of England.

I already informed my hotel manager that I was leaving the job because I wanted to go abroad; I thought that was a good reason. I did not bother to remove anything that would incriminate me. I could not remove my sperm from her altogether, so why bother? After all, I have never had a criminal record before, so I am not in the authorities' files.

I left the room around 3 am, leaving my signature note SMOTHER.

I waited until no one was in front of the reception desk and exited quickly. I got into the car, lowered the handbrake and moved slowly away downhill until I was a few yards away from the hotel and drove away.

When I arrived at my flat, I had a glass of whisky from an open bottle and a shower. I had already packed my bags except those I would wear for my travels and put away the clothes I was wearing during my trip. I was delighted. I waited a few hours, took a small nap on the couch, and left Manchester for good.

I made up my mind that I was going somewhere in Essex.

That morning, I arrived in Southend. The first thing I should do is find myself a bed and breakfast for a couple of days until I rent a flat of my own, look for a different job, and start a new life, hoping the demon will sleep forever.

Southend-on-Sea, commonly known as Southend, is a town in south-eastern Essex, England. I lived here for nearly five years, working as a supervisor in one of the big supermarkets. Except for the heavy drinking, I was living an everyday life. I forgot the misdeed I had done previously for a while (not entirely, but enough to keep me sane). Then the demon woke. Why and for what reason I had fancied a red-headed lady. I said, lady, because that is what I wanted to date. Not any riff-raff. This time, I thought I should upgrade my status. I shall find the right one, indulge myself with her by wining and dining.

Hoping I will sexually satisfy myself thoroughly and think of her demise. I thought I had to look elsewhere, maybe Colchester, Ipswich or Norwich. Far enough from Southend. Every evening I visited them. I thoroughly located the busiest places to dine and have a social drink comfortably. I did not travel to what is known as the red districts.

At last, I found the right place, 'The Blue Dragon'; initially, I thought it was an oriental place, but it turned out to be a wonderfully decorated Italian restaurant with soft background songs from the old Sanremo festivals. Now I had to find the lady. I thought that, being a bit full of myself, it wouldn't be too difficult with my looks and charm. I was not wrong, though it took me nearly five nights to find the proper lady. Her name was Charlotte, about 37 years old, she was a bit taller than me, and I thought she had a good figure, divorced, but no children. Her face was charming, but her hair attracted me the most; it was red- orange, natural and not fake, which is what clinched it. What bothered me most was that she was a lawyer and mainly dealt with local rotten apples. How did I meet her? I went to this wine bar in Ipswich; it wasn't hectic, but it had a pleasant atmosphere. I sat by a table with a glass filled with whiskey and soda. It was my third one when she came in.

She looked around, went to the counter, ordered a drink, and went to sit on an empty seat next to where I was. She was very exceptionally elegantly dressed, with a tight black dress with a bit of white to break the monotony of darkness. As I passed her to the counter to get another drink, she smiled at me, and I smiled back. The barmaid poured me another whiskey with some ice and a splash of soda and went back to the table. I looked at her again, and to my surprise, she was also looking at me,

So I got up from my chair, grabbed my drink and went to her table, asking if I could join her. "Please do," she said. That was it.

That evening ended splendidly, with a date to meet again there two days later, which was a Friday. The two days went by very quickly. I didn't do much except work and watch some old films. On Friday morning, I did not go to work; I phoned in sick. I wanted to prepare and plan my day.

At about 5 pm, I was in the bath filled to the top with hot virgin water; I'm not particularly eager to put stinking herbs or perfumes. I only use a soap called FA, which I order from Italy. It's green in colour with a pleasant soft scent to it. I stayed in for about three-quarters of an hour. Before I put my clothes on, I brushed my long hair, which was nearly dry. I looked at the mirror and combed my large beard smoothly, and smiled with a (what shall I call it) evil smirk. I dressed very stylishly, in a beautifully tailored black suit and a white silk shirt with skinny black stripes. I went to the kitchen, opened a cupboard where I keep my bottles of alcohol and poured out a generous measure of whiskey and gobbled it in one go. I shook my head with disgust and wiped my lips. I was on my way to fulfilling another promised performance. As I entered the place, Charlotte was already there with a glass of prosecco. I said hello and sat down. She looked like Scarlett O'Hara, but a bit older as I looked at her closely. Once again, I thought she had exquisite taste in clothes. We were there for almost an hour, enjoying talking and drinking. Everything was going smoothly, but then something unexpected happened. In came a couple, a bit older than us. They looked up and saw Charlotte.

The woman rushed towards her and kissed her on the cheeks. Charlotte politely introduced me to them; they sat down beside us and had a few drinks with me. After half an hour, I interrupted the conversation and reminded Charlotte that it was nearing the time to go to the restaurant. She apologised and left. I was deadly quiet, and she noticed. She asked what the matter was with me. I said that I had a slight headache. Charlotte wanted to put off the restaurant, but I insisted we go. After all, I had no headache at all. I was thinking about that couple and if they could recognise me in the future.

Anyway, we had a lovely dinner. Charlotte had baked mozzarella with endives and veal cutlet, Palermo style, while I had sauteed wild mushroom bruschetta followed by Beef tournedos Rossini without the Foie gras. We drank two bottles of Barolo and a small bottle of dessert wine. Before coffee, she had specialised Italian ice cream, and I had cheese and biscuits. Charlotte was very cheery when we left the restaurant, and I knew I had done her proud, and she was pleased with my company. I asked her if she would like to go to a hotel for the rest of the night; I explained that I lived in Chelmsford. (A small white lie) And with the amount of alcohol I had in me, it was safer to stay put, she agreed, and I took her to a small hotel that I had looked up the day before. It was isolated and not very busy.

The old receptionist was a bit tired and unhappy with the sleep interruption. He hurried our booking and gave us the key. As before, I signed the book as Mr and Mrs Bundy. I don't think Charlotte realised what I had written, nor did she even care. The demon inside me was very excited. I arched against her and had two fingers work inside her, a little uncomfortable, but nothing she couldn't handle. I kept my mouth on her, lavishing her breasts with attention. My thumb rubbed around her orange hair, and her eyes rolled back into her head. so close. The strength of what was building was staggering. Mind-blowing.

"You are magnificent," I murmured. As she lay exhausted, I stretched my hand over her head and with experience, I grabbed the pillow and pushed it towards her head very hard. Her body quivered; she fought desperately, but I was stronger than her. I kept pressing hard and waited. I waited until there was no sign of movement...No sign of life. I thought this killing was different; I removed the pillow and kissed her cheeks; they were still hot. I stroked her ginger hair over and over again. When I was satisfied, I left my signature note as I usually do, calmly had a shower, and left the hotel room quietly and with care. I drove slowly to Southend. I was not in a hurry. When I arrived home, I went straight to bed and slept like a baby.

It was a beautiful, sunny Saturday morning. I woke up early and thought about the achievement of the previous night. Yet my mind was preoccupied with the couple we've met. I had to make a quick decision. And instant. This time, I decided to leave Southend without leaving my job or informing the landlady. I had a quick bath and was so panicked that I decided to change my image. I cut and shaved my long hair and my beard, and when I looked in the mirror, I looked ugly.

A shaven head did not suit me.

I picked the hair up and put it in a plastic bag to bin it somewhere later. For breakfast, I only had coffee. That is all I needed. I packed my two medium-sized cases. I cleaned the flat as much as I could. Before I left, I went to the kitchen and took a whole bottle and another half of whiskey into my bag. I needed this, I thought. I left the flat and drove to London.

I stopped in Romford, Essex, about one in the afternoon and decided to have something to eat before continuing my journey. I found a friendly pub called The Moon People or something like that and had a quick lunch. While I was sitting and enjoying my lunch, I heard the news on their Plasma TV. The report stated that a woman in her late thirties was found dead in a hotel. The police were treating it as murder. I did not panic. They did not suspect anyone yet, but they did announce her name. "The couple, that bloody couple", I said to myself. I finished lunch and decided to go and try my luck in Wales. Good luck to me, I said.

I braked instantly, and the car stopped. I was driving along a country road, which was neither straight nor bent, neither smooth nor bumpy—on either side had hedges, trees, and other plants. The sun was out of focus, as the sky covered it with dark clouds, which seemed long-lasting yet not threatening. I was in intimate, deep thoughts. I was listening to Mozart’s requiem, the last movement of the sequence, ‘Lachrymose’, which filled the car’s interior with sadness, mingling with my emotions. I nearly knocked her down. I saw her in the middle of the narrow road, and she waved me down. I stopped the car and faced her. She was very distressed and had tearful eyes. “How can I help you, madame?” I asked politely, noticing how disturbed she was.

"Have you got the time?" ignoring my remarks. I looked at the watch without thinking, "Quarter past five." "Oh, thanks", she said pleasantly! "You could get hurt, you know! Don’t walk in the middle of the road." I started walking back to the car when I stopped, turned to her again, and called out. "Can I give you a lift somewhere?" "It’s ok, thanks", she said and continued on her way. "Are you sure?" I insisted. "Yes", she called back. I got into the car, closed the door behind me, and started the engine again. Suddenly, the woman stopped, turned and ran towards the car. "Excuse me; I’ve changed my mind! The ride will do me good." "Get in", I said. As I drove away, the CD player turned on automatically, and the magnificent sound of Mozart’s Benedictus filled the car with sublime sounds.

As I drove, we were both quiet; she was staring blankly towards the windscreen while I kept glancing at her methodically. "You have to put the seat belt on," I told her. "Yes, of course", and she secured the seat belt on her. She asked if I was on my way from work without looking at me, and I said that I liked going for a spin in the beautiful country because it relaxes me completely. "Nobody was waiting for you then?" She asked. I didn't answer, and for the first time, she smiled, and I noticed it. After a while, I stopped in front of a beautiful old house just outside the village as she instructed me. She opened the door and got out. "Thanks," she said. "Don't mention it", I answered back. As she walked towards her house, I kept staring at her. There was something unusual about her, yet she was captivating. Before she took out the door keys, she stopped and turned back and faced me. We kept looking at each other for a while, when suddenly she came back to the car, opened the door again. "Do you have a spare bed?" She asked. I stared at her, baffled, "I've got a sofa!"

She laughed and went back in the car, closing the door behind her and putting the seat belt on. I took off slowly, still staring at her. The following day, I woke up early, and after I put on a dressing gown, I went downstairs to the kitchen and prepared breakfast on a tray. I took it to the lounge, coffee, orange juice and toast, butter, jam and marmalade. There, the mysterious lady was still sleeping on the sofa. I looked at her intensely as I quietly placed all the food from the tray onto a small table. I sat down and poured coffee for myself, trying hard not to make a noise. "Good morning," she said, still lying down, smiling. "Good morning!" I replied. "Did you sleep well?" she sighed! "I dreamt that I was swimming" "That's good", I said, "Why?" "They say it's good to dream about water!" "Do you know all that?" She asked me, smiling again. "Sure! We studied dream interpretation at the university. They say it is better than lie detectors. A person can never lie about what he dreams!" I got up. "I'm sorry I have left you. I forgot I have an appointment in town". I wanted out of the house; I wanted to be alone somehow. "Do you want me to come

with you?" she asked. "No, don't get up! Stay here as long as you like; just put the key under the mat when you leave. Don't worry, my neighbours are fine." "Thanks for the sofa," she said laughingly. "Not a problem. Bye!" "See you around," she said, pouring a glass of orange juice.

A week had passed since I met the mysterious woman, and I couldn't get her out of my mind for a reason unknown to me. That morning I was planning to go to the centre of the town to look at a new Hi-Fi system because I thought the one I had was a bit old now. So after I downed coffee, I went to the car and drove away. I wasn't moving fast; I was in no hurry after all. I was on the outskirts of the town when I saw her walking in the park. I slowed down and made sure that it was her, and when I was sure, I looked for a place to park. I walked quickly towards the park and went to meet her. "Is it a good walk you’re having?" I asked. The woman turned her face and smiled. "Yes, if you like walking! Come and walk with me." She said. "I have a better idea," I said, "Let's go and have coffee together." "OK", she replied, and together we went off to town. The coffee shop we found was ideal for us, luxurious and quiet. After ordering coffee and a couple of croissants, we looked at each other without saying anything. "I wanted to meet you to tell you that I don't normally do that; I mean, go home with strange men and sleep on their sofas. I am not like that." She told him. I laughed, "Me neither." And we both laughed. "They make lovely coffee here", I said after sipping the coffee. "Yes," she said without touching it. "It's so nice and relaxing!" I was trying hard to make a conversation. "Let's forget coffee", she said as she got up. "Let's go somewhere else." "Whatever you say" We went back to the park. I walked in front of her while she was picking up some wildflowers. A flock of birds flew by. It was an incredible scene, and we sat down on the dry grass. After a while, we got up and walked for a long time. When we had had enough, I asked her if she wanted me to drive her somewhere. "No, I'll walk", she said as she walked away.

“I’ll call you,” she told me as she turned her head towards me. I smiled and strolled towards the car, but stopped and watched her walk away. As I started the engine and drove away, I realised that I didn’t even know her name, nor did she know mine either. It’s struck me odd. Two days had passed, and my thoughts were becoming confused, and I couldn’t concentrate on my work, so I reported sick for a few days. In these two days, I wandered around the town and country in the car, trying to catch sight of her, but to no avail. For these two days, she had vanished. It was dark when I drove back to the flat, and as I was parking opposite the apartment, I saw a figure in the shadows of the dimly lit Cul-de-sac.

I got out of the car, slammed the door, and stared at the figure who was now approaching me. It was her as she quickened her pace, and once she was face to face with me, she kissed me on the cheeks. “Hello”, she said with a smile. “Hello”, I answered very confusedly but delighted. “I want you to come with me tonight.” “Where?” I asked. “How did you manage to come here without a car?” “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” She said as she went to the other side of the car, opened the door, and sat. She hooked the seat belt. I looked at her, and she laughed. “Don't worry; I’ve put the seatbelt on!” “I see that”, I said as I opened the door, secured my seatbelt and drove away. This evening, she looked different, prettier and sexier. She smelled good, too, I thought. “Where are we going?” I asked politely, “I mean to say, where will I drive this car? We cannot go where you’re taking me unless you tell me the place.” “I know that, just go to the centre of the town first and from there I will tell you the next direction!” “OK”, I said, “I’m totally in your hands.” “Good, I like a man who obeys!” and she laughed. I looked at her seriously and then burst out laughing too! When we arrived at the town centre, she told me to take a left to a tiny village unknown to me, the narrow lanes and the darkness did not make the journey comfortable. Still, in the end, we arrived in the town, and she pointed at a huge house standing on its own, far away from other buildings.

“You’ve got a lovely house?”

“No! It’s not mine,” she replied and got out of the car; from her small bag she took out a bunch of keys, and after pushing the garden gate wide open, she stood in front of a massive door which she opened and went in, turning at the door waiting for me. I got out of the car, looked around me several times and strode to the door where she was staying. She took my hand and pulled me gently when I was on the doorstep, closing the door behind her. “Whose house is it?” I asked.

“Let’s pretend it’s mine,” she replied, putting her arms around me, kissing me all over. I reciprocated. “What’s all this then?” “What?” “Are you playing with me?” “Maybe I am,” she said, “Does it matter?” I was ever so bewildered by what was happening, but I also enjoyed it.

It was dawn when I got out of bed, and I realised I did not have a dressing gown; how could I? I smiled to myself. She was not in bed, and I thought she was downstairs preparing breakfast, so I went to the bathroom and had a shower, considering what a beautiful evening I had with her. “Fuck,” I said, “I need to ask her name.” I went downstairs, I hoped to find her in the kitchen, but she wasn’t there, when I looked around the other rooms. I left the house without hesitation, closed the door behind me and went to the car, forgetting to shut the gate.

As I sat down, I saw a piece of white paper stuck under one of the wipers. I got out and pulled it. “It was a night to remember. Thank you,” read the note; I smiled and drove away. It has been two years since I had that passionate night with the mystery woman. I never saw her again, even though I had looked for her for a long time. I still have the note she left me on the windscreen that night, and I still dream about her. One thing was for sure: the demon was fast asleep!

It has been three years since I met the mysterious woman and spent seven years living in Wales. Nothing much has happened to me out of the ordinary since I moved here. Sometimes I drive past the village and look at the house where I had the pleasure of a woman I knew then. I wonder if I would have married her if things hadn't turned out as they did. My hair is long again, not as long as it used to be, but I am still cleanly shaven. Here, I had a few different jobs. I never bothered about a career. I worked so that I could keep myself in comfort.

It was Halloween night; I thought it was appropriate for the demon to wake up. I found out about a pub organising a Halloween night special. I had never been to this pub before; I thought I was safe, and above all, I was going in a costume with a mask. When I arrived, the pub was packed. I could see all kinds of evil characters dancing, kissing, drinking and mucking about. I squeezed myself towards the bar counter, and I managed to get a double whiskey and soda. I was not one for dancing, so I went into a cornerand watched the others making fools of themselves.

It took some time to spot a woman I thought was a bit lost and looking for someone to join her. She dressed as Morticia from the Addams Family. I walked towards and stood by her side without saying a word. It didn't take long for her to start a conversation, of which I could not make out half of it because of the noise. "I like your costume", she said, very original. "Thank you. I said. I made it myself."

"Did you?"

"Yes, I went to a Charity shop and bought a light coloured suit and dyed it purple. Hence, the Joker is here talking to you." I boasted. "Do you want another drink? I see your glass is empty, and mine also." "Gin and Tonic, please, no lemon, plenty of ice." "Won't be a second". When I returned, I asked her name. (I remembered this time). "Julia," she said. "I'm Michael", I replied. She wondered why I didn't join in the dancing, and I said I didn't like it, and I was there just for the atmosphere and plenty of drinks. She laughed.

She told me that she was a primary school teacher. She taught young pupils between 8 and 10. She asked me how long I have been in Machynlleth since my accent proved not to be Welsh. "Seven years". said. After a while, I asked her if she would like to go somewhere quiet. She agreed. I did not want to go anywhere in particular. I just wanted to be alone with her. Driving along, I asked if she preferred to go to my flat and have a few drinks there. "Why not," she said.

I broadened her posture with my hands and pushed her shoulders down to the bed. She gasped at the intrusion, hardening, congealing, then melted softer, while she pressed her hips back into me. In response, she gave a high-pitched pant. I knew she wanted meaningful sex with me, and I'd give it to he and good. Her little cries came closer together; she shifted her hips in little circles. The movement was unbearably hot. Her moans intensified.

I have to admit that my dark urges exploded. I smothered her with passion; I wanted Julia to die thinking of what I had done to her previously. Could she understand or recall when she’s asphyxiated?

In my mind, I hoped she did.

This killing was the first time on my premises. It was a different and difficult challenge facing me. I had decided right then that I would not run away this time. I have enjoyed living in Wales and will stay put for some time. The problem facing me now is not as difficult as I had imagined.

I live on the ground floor, so dragging the body to my car is more convenient and manageable. I will not dress her and shall dispose of her naked. I will burn both costumes, mine and hers, so there will be no connection to the pub and the Halloween party. I gave it a good thought and examined the woodlands on Google for the perfect woodland I could find. I arrived at Tan y Coed, which is easy to find, theforest located immediately off the A487. I had to go uphill through conifer trees and an open beech and oak woodland. It then descended to the riverside, which followed the tumbling river back to the car park. I left the body under one of the conifer trees, placed my signature note on top of her body and covered it as much as I could with dead, damp leaves. I went back to the car and drove away.

I arrived at River Dovey, which was on its route to Machynlleth. I stopped on Dyfi Bridge, exited the car and opened the boot. I took out a bag packed with our costumes.

It was cumbersome as I placed six bricks with the clothes to sink when I threw them in the river.

I drove home, poured whiskey in a tumbler, and sat pleased with myself.

I am in contact with a Wrexham man possessing and distributing indecent images of children and possession of extreme pornography. He also incites children to commit sexual acts. I found out about him when I pretended to be a 13-year-old girl, and I made an appointment with him to meet in Bellevue Park, bordered by Bradley Road on the west and Ruthin Road on the south. I went there at 5 pm on Thursday. I was supposed to meet after school. I sat on a bench, and after a while, I saw this big bald man, with a long scruffy beard and a huge tummy to carry with him. I saw him walking through and fro many times when I walked towards him and asked him the time. He looked at his mobile and obliged me; obviously, he did not wear a watch. (Neither did I). "Thank you," I said, "You are here to meet me!" I continued.

"What," he said, somehow surprised. "Don't worry, I am not a paedophile hunter," I told him. I could see his frightened face. I assured him that I was there to meet for both our benefits. I explained how I posed as a child to contact someone like me.

(I also pretended to be one.)

He was not convinced that I was telling the truth, and I told him if I were there to harm him, the police would be there already. We sat down; he looked at me and asked me what I wanted with doubtful expressions on his face. I asked if he would like to come and visit my flat. I said, though, that I lived in Glamorgan. He wasn't going for that. Instead, he asked me to meet him the next day, bring in my images and go to his house. I agreed to tell him that I should put my collection on a USB stick. I got up and walked away, looking back several times. He stayed sitting. That night, I found myself in a small hotel and stayed in it. The next day I went to Argos and bought a memory stick. I had to show him something when I met him again. After having a nonsufficient breakfast at McDonald's, I went to the park.

To my astonishment, he was there, sitting on the same bench. I approached and sat beside him.

We saluted each other and asked him if he lived far.

"A few minutes' walk," He said. "Have you got your stuff?"

"Yes!" and showed the USB, which I had stained with grease from breakfast to make it look used.

The man smiled, "I am George", he said.

"Tom, Tom O'Brien", I replied. "You've got an Irish name, He pointed out. "Yes, from my Grandfather. I was born in Birmingham." He was wrong about a few minutes from his house; it took us 18 minutes precisely. We went in, and he told me to sit down on his not very clean sofa. We sat and asked me if I wanted tea or coffee.

"No, I prefer something stronger. That is why I got two bottles of wine with me. Let us cement our friendship with a toast." He was pleased. I could see it in his face. He was blooming with delight. I assumed that he was a lonely guy. He went into another room and came back with two tumblers. (Obviously, he doesn't know how to drink wine properly. I thought.) I screwed the metal top and poured two glasses of cheap red plonk. "Come on, bring the wine and let's go onto my computer." The excitement was too unbearable for me to watch. I watched hundreds of children from 6 to 14 years old on the screen. Boys and girls, most of them were indecently exposed. If I weren't there for one reason, I would have left vomiting all over the place. I made myself ignore all the disgusting details. "Doesn't he ever go to piss?" I asked myself. "Then what I was expecting happened. He asked me to give him the USB stick.

I didn't hesitate and smiled. I didn't want to react with any doubt since the USB was empty. He inserted it in a slot and double-clicked on the files. Nothing! "What is this?" he said, a bit angry. "What," I said. "There's nothing on this stick. "Oh, Shit", I burst out loud. "I must have picked the wrong one. You see, I always keep a spare in case I need it. Or run out of memory."

"I see," he said. "Don't worry; I will email them to you when I go home. Is that fair?" I tried to persuade him. "Listen, George, I don't want your images today. When you receive mine, do likewise." "Well, mistakes happen after all". "Have you got anything else?" I asked,

"Oh yes". George boasted about his collection.

"I have some action stuff which I took while

performing." "Really," I said, pretending I was astounded. "Let me show you a few". He went out of that screen and clicked on another item titled "Action Station, " which I do not know why. He clicked on one thing, touching this girl of about ten. I could not take any more. It reminded me of how I was treated the same by the man who abused me many years ago. I saw him enjoying himself in a way a man delights himself with an adult woman. It wasn't long, and I welcomed the ending. I opened the other bottle of wine, and as I was going to refill his glass, he said, let me go and have a piss first. George left quickly. I took out a small bag from my jacket. It had about 30, 7.5mg of Zopiclone pills crushed into powder and put in his glass, poured the wine, stirring it with my forefinger.

Two tablets take almost an hour to work; I was hoping that with 30, it would work very fast. It did indeed. After 20 minutes of drinking the wine, he fell asleep in his armchair. I took a cushion from the sofa and suffocated him with it. Since he was fast asleep, I placed the pillow. I had to take his pulse and listen to his heart. I wanted to make sure he was not of this world anymore. He wasn't.

Placing my signature note on the sofa beside him, I took the glasses into his very messy kitchen and washed them. I returned to the computer, took the USB stick, and put it in my pocket. With my handkerchief, I wiped the mouse.

I did not touch the keyboard. I placed two opened Zopiclone packets I brought with me on the floor with the empty strips.

I even put the rest of the pills, 16 in all, besides the packet. I took his glass, carrying it carefully with the handkerchief and placed it sideways on the floor. I took one bottle to him, grabbed his right hand, placed his fingers on it, and let it fall. I took the other bottle, putting it in the bag I had with me in the first place, and sat on an armchair waiting for the

night. When the night came, I opened the door slowly, and when there was no one around, I left the same way we came and then went to my car.

I drove fast to my flat as the streets were not very busy.

WERREJ