At 7:00am my digital alarm clock went off. Like a car alarm the sound echoed, ringing in my ears, nonstop. Aggravated, I abruptly slammed my alarm shutting it off. Then an immediate silence - I sluggishly arose from my slumber, extending my legs over the edge of my mattress, I hesitantly planted my feet on the cool hardwood floor. Just as I progressed towards the bathroom, my foot caught my duffle bag strap, tipping it over. Leaving my art tools exposed - out in the open. I quickly stuffed everything back into the duffle then slid the bag under my bed.
At 8:00am I exited my studio apartment, carrying the duffle bag over my shoulder. I carefully began to examine my surroundings searching for my next victim. Like a predator hunting for prey, I patiently waited for someone with the most vulnerability. Briana Gaster, platinum blonde hair, 17, oblivious to the world around her. The perfect prey. I carefully began to trail behind her keeping my distance, stalking her every move. Avoiding exposure, I waited for the sun to set.
At 7:00pm the street lights were on. I began to creep closer to Briana, avoiding her discovery of my presence. As she entered an isolated alley I abruptly grab her from behind then held a cloth drenched in chloroform over her face, her body collapsed to the ground. I jammed her unconscious corps into the duffle and immediately fled the alley. I stood alongside the street, waving my hand, signalling for a taxi. As the cab drove up to the curb I shoved the duffle into the trunk and entered the back seat of the cab. Without delay, I directed the driver to East 18th Street- an abandoned subway station right by Washington Square Park. When I arrived my desired destination I quickly exited the cab and abstracted the duffle from the trunk.
At 9:00pm I snuck into the secluded subway station. I unzipped my duffle then dragged Briana’s lifeless body out into a vacant train car and removed duct tape and rope. I scrambled to restrict Briana’s arms and legs before she gained consciousness. When she began to awaken, I eagerly prepared my various mechanisms in front of her. Her eyes widened as I held a butcher knife to her neck. Petrified, she inspected my past victim’s skeleton encircling her restrained body. Bit by bit, I strategically began to carve away at her body as she screamed calling for help that would never come. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as her screeches continued to get louder and louder.
At 1:00am her body lie still in a pool of blood- satisfied with the artwork I had left on her body I captured the perfected masterpiece with my polaroid. When I got back home I immediately rushed over to my art gallery to add my most recent victim - Briana Gaster, platinum blonde hair, 17, oblivious to the world around her. The 312th polaroid, the 312th victim to fill the wall - lifeless. I set my duffle on the floor next to my bed and lie staring at the ceiling, admiring my work.
At 7:00am my digital alarm went off. Again and again. Nonstop. A ringing in my ears to prepare me for another masterpiece… Another prey, another victim, another girl missing from the City that never sleeps… the 313th polaroid.