{seven}

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The United Center, named after United Airlines, was west of the Chicago Loop—the central business district of the city. Mike's was a sports bar about a mile east of the UC located on Madison Street just past Ogden Avenue.

Banners from all of the local sports teams hung from the ceiling, but it was mainly Bulls and Blackhawks friendly. The place was known for its hot wings and even hotter women.

The man walked through the glass door. Most of the wooden chairs and tables were occupied. Booths were off to the right side. A bar took up the remaining area. Big screen TVs played ESPN along with the NFL Network—the norm until the football game came on. At least Monday at work was over.

The smell of grease and hot sauce hung in the air along with freshly cooked fries. Conversations were taking place in various spots with the occasional roar of laughter from a table. The Bears were 2-1 going into a division game against the Detroit Lions, and the atmosphere reflected that since the final game of Week Four was on tonight.

He looked around for Mike before he took his usual spot at the seventh table and didn't see him. Thank God. Having a conversation about his parents would only piss him off after the day he'd had. A buzz from his phone made him look down. The man smiled.

I hate Mondays. Feeling better now that I can talk to you.

Right on schedule.

He opened up his FB Messenger and sent a response.

Me too. I'll see you over at the site in a few?

Some of these bitches were too obvious. It was a pleasant surprise since they weren't bad looking, just busy. It was unbelievable how desperate they were for a man. All the more reason to go through with his plan.

They usually had Tindr or Zoosk accounts along with a couple of other online dating profiles. Once he asked the right questions, they were spilling their guts in the span of a couple of conversations. Considering he would be cutting theirs soon enough, this scenario was the best he could hope for.

"What can I get you?" a woman came over.

Angela. One of the good things about coming here. Long, dark hair, perky tits, and a round ass. Just the way he liked his women. He smiled at her.

"How you been, Ange?"

"Better now," she said and set a mug of cold, frothy beer down on the table. "I didn't expect to see you here," she said.

"Just working on something," he answered. "So I'll see you tonight?"

"My place as always," she said with a pat on his shoulder. "I'll be back with your wings."

Angela had been a contingency he hadn't anticipated. After talking to her online two months ago, they'd agreed to meet when she mentioned the place. He'd been hesitant at first since he knew the owner. In the end, the goal was more important. It wasn't like he'd be doing anything more than talking here.

She hadn't let on that she was an employee, and it wasn't until various people had greeted her that he'd figured it out. That should've been his first clue to stop this. He didn't work this way. Still, he couldn't just leave with her and take her to the house.

That was a lie. He could have. The truth was that after talking with her in person, he'd unexpectedly been drawn to her. Their conversation had flowed as easily as the beers around them that night. She was different than the other needy wenches who whined all the time. No family to speak of. Working two jobs and paying her way through school. She had it tough. He could relate.

Much different than those needy wenches who whined because their bosses yelled at them or they'd broken a nail. They wanted to cry? He would make sure they did right before he stabbed the life out of them. They had no reason to complain.

When he was with her, he wasn't concerned with them. None of this should've mattered. But it did. Just his luck he would find someone during the task. Oh well. He could have his fun with her in more ways than one. A little company never hurt anybody. Just as long as he remembered to get to the endgame.

He was already halfway on his way to the next one, annoyed that he'd had to do these first set of women out of order, but that's just how it went. Life wasn't a dress rehearsal, so he had to roll with whatever came his way.

There'd been three already, and those dumbasses at Chicago PD only had two. He could afford to take his time. Besides those false trails he'd planted should be enough to keep them occupied until at least number seven. Patience and taking advantage of opportunities worked best.

Another source he used was the computer and the cell phone. A couple of posts on a Facebook account would be all it took to send them in the wrong direction. It was easy enough. Become friends with them, then check their friends' list.

Hacking the account and sending messages wasn't a problem. Once they reached him on his Messenger app, he could send spyware to their phone and track everything. Made it easier to "bond" with them too.

People rarely even knew about it. And if they did he would just create another account. They only noticed a hacked account when those dirty videos were posted everywhere.

The men from the accounts he chose had a friends list full of women which also helped. It was another reason this was the perfect way to get to them. Providence was truly smiling down on him. They really were too stupid for their own good. He checked his phone again.

And here he was, working long hours and doing shit work behind a weak ass woman. His life had no purpose until reading that piece of literature a year ago. It changed his life.

It was as if a light bulb had gone off. This was his purpose—to rid the world of fake filth like them. It had only taken a couple of months to plan. Finding the right people had been harder. It was so difficult that he'd had to go out of state to blow off some steam.

So far they hadn't found those useless sacks either. A little recognition would've been good. The man stopped himself and took a breath.

Have faith.

His time for fame would be here soon enough. And it would be longer than fifteen minutes. The numbers were what counted.

"You okay?" Angela had come back over.

"Yeah," he said and looked up at her.

God, she was beautiful. For a fleeting moment, he wished things could end differently with her. Thoughts like this did no good.

Stick with the plan.

"I don't know if I'll be able to get back over to you before the game starts," Angela said with a sad smile.

"I know." He nodded. "But I'll see you tonight."

Once she'd walked back to the bar his phone buzzed again along with a notification tone which told him she'd made it to the other site.

Sorry for the late response. Asshole boss is back at it again.

He knew a thing or two about that.

He'd managed to keep his urges under control for four years after that first time. How many other killers were controlled enough to do that?

It was all for good reason since it did give him the chance to meet another one. She was further down on the list. Getting rid of her would be glorious. She'd come to mind pretty soon after he'd read the book. It couldn't have been more perfect.

The man tapped out a reply.

Take all the time you need. You'll be with me soon enough.

She responded with a smiley face and a heart along with,

Talk soon.

Too easy.

The man picked up a wing and bit into it. The perfect distribution of sauce and the chicken was so tender it fell off the bone. He could always appreciate a great piece of meat. And now the game was about to start. This wasn't nearly as perfect of a day as it would've been if he had a fresh body. But he had to admit things had worked out pretty good.

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