 
Special Smashwords Edition

American Nightmare

by

T. K. Murphy

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

American Nightmare

Special Smashwords Edition

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ISBN: 978-1-935670-55-1 (eBook)

Version: 2011.04.15
Table of Contents

1 The Layoff

2 The Date

3 The Second Date

4 The Car Disposal

5 The Boss

The Layoff

Robert Malcolm Jr felt the pain and fear at the pit of his belly. He had just read the email asking his team and several other teams to have a joint meeting in two hours. He knew what that meant. 52 yr old Bob had worked in this mega corporation in San Francisco for 22 years. He had started as a security guard for the building. Then got a job in the help desk and worked up the chain and was now a Project Manager in the IT department. Along the way, he had worked in many departments and this was his family-especially since his nasty divorce four years ago. The company did not offer pension benefits anymore, but he would qualify for a retirement package in three years and that included health benefits.

Then the email came. He had seen the signs before. Slowly a team of Indians had started working in his office. They were only going to help the team, he was told. They were from a very big consulting firm and the new IT head was from that firm too. That did raise a few eyebrows, but corporations were not good to people who stand out and so nobody raised any questions. Slowly they learnt the job and started handling more of the work. Concerns were raised, rumors were swirling-but they were here to help the employees –that was the official line. They worked for almost a year and initially took over the mundane tasks and then started to do the more complex stuff. But as long the rest were getting paid, nobody cared, although they knew intuitively that something was wrong.

Then the email came and Bob and his fellow workers were huddled into a giant conference room. His manager Marcy, her boss Dick and the HR representative were there. Dick started, "First of all, I want to thank you for being the best team I have had the pleasure of working with. Unfortunately the company is facing very tough conditions and we have been forced to let you all go. This was a very difficult situation and we had no other option." Then the HR representative started going through the policy details and how they would be let go and that they would all have individual meetings to get familiar with the packages. Bob's worst fears were now confirmed. Yes they were being let go. The entire department, along with many other people had been outsourced to this company and most operations would now be done in India. The accompanying corporate nonsense about how valued they were and how they sorry they were to lose talent etc was the most painful. Why couldn't they be more honest? Then they set up individual meetings with each employee. They got a nice severance package. Some were asked to join as consultants –but most were given a few weeks to a month and asked to pack up and leave. The sick thing was the company had just pulled in its best quarter ever and was sitting on a humongous pile of cash.

Bob was devastated. This was his life. He was 52 years old and had been with the company for 22 years. He had yet to qualify for retirement and had diabetes- making it very difficult to get health insurance. He would be eligible for COBRA for a short period of time, but beyond that he was on his own. His ex wife worked for the city in a low paying job, but she and the four kids all had insurance through her. Bob did not take home much, between his alimony and child support which was garnished from his wages. Bob had also lost his house in the divorce. He now lived in the North Bay in Sonoma County. He was 52, no job, no health insurance and still reeling from his nasty divorce and now this. Many of his friends in other companies that had been laid off, still had to find jobs. Quite a few had stopped paying their mortgages.

Bob still had to come to the office for another month and ensure the transition had to go smoothly. He had to aid his own replacements to take over his job. Being the good corporate trooper that he was, he complied. But he grew increasingly despondent over the next few days. How had his life gone so horribly wrong? He had done everything right. He had worked hard, married, took care of his kids and never even abused the medical/sick day that his company generously offered. He had always done his work on time and rarely if ever had a complaint. That had been his story almost all his life. Bob was raised in coastal Oregon, as an only child of a handicapped mother and an alcoholic, absentee father. His father was abusive, but thankfully rarely there. His father came up occasionally to grab some money from mom, but ever since his mom had a fired a shotgun over his head, he disappeared. His mom was legally handicapped and got her regular disability check, but was not very mobile. Bob did everything from buying food to chopping wood and went to school too. He was the dutiful, good child that everyone admired. He also went hunting with neighbors on occasion- the only relaxing thing he ever got to do. Then when he turned 19, his mom died, leaving him all alone. His paternal grandmother lived close by-but she was a drunk too-but not abusive. He visited her occasionally.

Bob was devastated then and didn't know what to do. One of his neighbor's cousin had moved to San Francisco and owned a restaurant and was here for the weekend. Bob talked to him and was offered a dishwasher job. He would be paid under the table and allowed to sleep in the back of the restaurant. The restaurant was in a seedy part of town and had been broken into a few times. Bob agreed and moved. It was interesting –totally new. Bob continued being the good boy and got paid a pittance and barely had a social life. He somehow managed to get a job in a security firm and worked very hard and then when the company got a contract for the corporation, he was posted there. He had gotten along well with most and soon found himself a lower level job in the corporation and never looked back. The company paid for his education and he got a degree too. Along the way, he met his wife Stacy and had four kids and life was good.

Then the divorce came out of the blue four years ago. Stacy was not the most stable person and an alcoholic. She abused him mentally and even physically at times. But Bob, the ever-sacrificing saint, just took it and tried his best to make it work. Then Stacy's mom who had just been widowed came to live with them and things went south from there. Bob never had the nerve to put his foot down. In the office, he was very good, got things done and worked hard and did the work of almost two or three people. He never could say no or pick a fight with anyone. At home he did the cleaning, gardening and pretty much the bulk of the chores. Stacy and her mom were a bad combination and soon Bob was shut out of whatever little intimacy he had. The divorce came through and Stacy threatened him with all sorts of things and considering his nature, he did not even fight. He was so used to putting everyone's need above his, that he simply could not stand up for himself. She got the house, the kids and a wonderful deal on alimony and child support.

Bob never could confront or fight with anybody. He was scared almost. Scared of himself. Scared of some deep, dark thing that was welling within him and threatening to break through to the surface. The surface was his carefully, constructed persona or ego. The ever helping, supremely sacrificing, loyal, hard working person. That was who he was or so he thought. That was the one person everybody saw. The meek pushover. The person whose feelings never mattered and the more they pushed, the more Bob bent over backwards to compensate- almost afraid that his deeper, darker side might break free. He did not know who else to be, this was him.

Then the layoff happened. He could not make sense of it all. At least the divorce, he could blame it on women and the laws favoring them and go hang out with like minded people and complain about how wronged he was and what a saint he was. But this, there was no explanation, no reasoning. He had been in the company for 22 years and this new guy at the top only for three years. The top guy had brought in his former colleagues right from the start and there was no explaining it away- it looked like a hit job. He had very good performance reviews. He always did a good job, worked very hard. But everyone was fired, not just him and to top it all off, the national political atmosphere had turned against people like him. He was being called a lazy, drunk creature that did not work only so they could collect unemployment benefits. Benefits that would barely be a quarter of what he was making and that does not include the benefits and stock options and 401k matches.

Bob was despondent. Utterly dejected and really did not know what to do. All his life, he had been the good guy, the self-sacrificing lamb, the one people could call at 4 am for help. That was his identity and now that did not matter. His divorce had almost broken him-for he could not make sense of it. But he had his work and his work family to fall back on and he poured his energies into work. Now this.

Bob finally said goodbye to his company and filled out his unemployment forms. He lived out in the North Bay close to the Russian River in a barn in the woods. After his divorce, he moved there as the woods reminded him of his home growing up in Oregon. Bob did not get see much of his children- Stacy made sure of that. The property was an old horse barn, but the owner Ethel was now 80 years old, deaf and had stopped breeding horses. She had rented out the help's quarters and Bob lived in a cabin away from the main building. It was old Ethel and him all alone. He liked the solitude. But now he felt trapped. It was a long commute each day on the Golden Gate transit bus and back and he worked late and often worked at home too. But now, nothing. His colleagues still had mortgages and were as despondent as him and all terribly worried-especially with the economy the way it was.

Bob took the bus anyway and got off close to the Golden Gate Bridge. He took another connector and got off to the base from where he could walk on the bridge. Funny he never noticed its beauty as he commuted everyday over it. But today it looked wonderful as that chatter in his head stopped. He walked on and came to the middle of the bridge and there was a big Chinese ship going underneath. He was transfixed by it. The bay and the ocean on the other side were so clear. Bob stared onto the water and the islands and San Francisco for a long time - he felt at peace and he wanted to jump into the waters below- never to worry about his troubles again. Then he remembered an interview about a person who had done the same, but had survived and broken his back. That scared him-to wake up in a hospital possibly in a coma or paralyzed. He walked back and went home again.

Bob's addiction was work. It defined him, it consumed him. He took pride at beating the odds and moving up. Now everything was ripped from him. That too by people from other countries and he was forced to teach them how to do his job! Nothing he could come up with, made sense of his situation. Yes he could vent and fume, but that would not get his job back. Now he had to go file court documents for reducing child support and face the dreaded Stacy and her mother again who always treated him like a failure no matter what he did. He felt like a sand castle with the waves lapping and threatening to devour him. The waves were that inner darkness; the inner demons that he had held at bay for so long. The rage at never having his needs met, the anger at having to endure an abusive marriage and yet be treated like the abuser by the system. The rage at having worked so hard for decades and being tossed aside like a piece of garbage so that the management can get a bigger bonus. The rage at being in a populace that now considered hard working people like him to be welfare cheats, while not holding any of the nasty people who caused this economic collapse accountable. That bugged him the most. He did not have a single thing to hold onto and was so lost and lonely. His mental projections about who he was were breaking down and he no longer had an identity.

Bob decided to do the one thing that could always get him to cool down. A trip up the Sonoma and Mendocino coasts. The Sonoma coast is a wild and rugged piece of country. Sparsely populated, spectacularly beautiful, windy, and foggy. It was his personal paradise and reminded him a lot of growing up in the Oregon coast. Unlike the better-known Big Sur coastline south of San Francisco, this wonderful place was just rugged, beautiful and rarely had any people. On weekdays, you could have the whole park or beach to yourself. He slowly drove there and still did not have any peace. He stopped at Salt Point state Park-one of his favorite jaunts. But as he started to hike, he started to scream and cry and lose it completely. He was having a breakdown. He was not conscious of his actions and the words that were coming out from him. They certainly did not seem to be coming from him. "Fuck them, I will kill every one of them," he screamed, while waves and waves of rage and strange emotions bubbled over. His conscious mind desperately tried to regain control. Desperately screaming, 'I am in control". But to no avail and he started to sob uncontrollably and alternatively screamed in rage. Emotions he did not even know he had, started to well up to the surface. However he had skillfully pushed them under the surface for so long, that he did know what they were and acted like a man possessed by demonic forces. He screamed, he cried, all the time his conscious persona desperately trying to regain control. Everything was collapsing within him. The isolation and splendor and the rugged coast and the waves only served to incite the rage in him, the darkness, and the dark corners of the psyche that he never expressed in his life. Now there was nothing to hold them back and as the onslaught started, his conscious mind did not stand a chance. What could it say to hold the tides back? He had lost everything and was 52, not getting younger and faced a dismal future. But he still waged a furious battle. Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw two hikers in the distance. That gave his mind its chance and he regained his sanity and composure. He then walked over and then started running towards his car that was half a mile away. He could feel his innards ready to burst through and was too scared. He got to his car and was panting so hard, but got in and turned on the music. The modern world's comforts soon got his attention back and he was soon back to being good old Bob again. But he would never be the same again.

Bob was a slight man. Very thin, almost bald and what was left had turned to grey. He tried to be in the background as much as possible. He was very submissive and tried to be as non-threatening to people as possible. He had always been that way. Maybe it was the lack of a father or playing second fiddle to his dominant, handicapped mother, but that was all he could ever remember and that was his identity. Then this happened. It frightened him. It brought forth feelings he didn't realize he had. Violent impulses, anger, a need to be heard and the resulting chaos had fractured his identity beyond repair. Who was he? He had no hopes for the future and so his mind could not latch on to that to keep him busy. The only thing available to him was low level menial jobs-the kinda jobs he had started with and had worked his way up from.

He had nobody back in Oregon-except his decrepit old grandma. He didn't see his family much and his work friends were all scattered. He had a lot of free time. The rent was very low and so he was ok financially. But he worried about the future and the more hopeless he became; the more his inner rage worked its way to the surface.

The Date

Bob was increasingly despondent. Bob hadn't dated anyone since his divorce. He was too traumatized and he really didn't know how. He had met Stacy at the restaurant where they worked and married her and was really never into the bar scene. Now without a job, he felt even more worthless. He was scared but lonely and finally after a lot of researching, he decided to hire a prostitute. He felt he could control the situation better and maybe then work up his courage to go on a date. He did not have to worry about Ethel. She was deaf and barely mobile. There was a working horse ranch a few miles away and the illegal immigrant Jose who worked there came by once a day to check on Ethel and do the chores and Ethel paid him some cash. Jose was in his mid fifties. He had been an illegal immigrant for a long time. Had family back in Mexico. In the old days, when the border was more porous, Jose would go back and forth easily. Now it was strict and it took a lot of money to pay the coyotes to lead them through the desert and you could still get caught. So Jose had not gone back in quite a while. Another illegal who worked with him at the ranch was Maria and she was his lover. Jose was an alcoholic and walked the few miles back and forth and often passed over drunk on the way, when he was done with his chores. But he was a good worker. He had a huge beer belly, was strong as an ox and worked very hard, but was paid a pittance and no benefits of any kind-all under the table. Bob wondered if this was the future American workers were staring at?

Bob knew when Jose came - it was an established routine. Ethel was deaf and rarely ventured out, except to sit in the back of her house and stare at the creek running through the property. Her only son lived in Boston and rarely visited. Bob was on good terms with both of them. Bob even helped Jose connect with his family in Mexico by opening an email account and allowing Jose to communicate with his kids and send photos. They had grown so much. Jose was even thinking of going back to Mexico. Bob wished he had some place to go back to-but he was all alone and out of options.

Bob scanned the webs for prostitutes and he was obsessed. He started sending them emails and chatting and really enjoyed it. Of course he had to start a separate email account for these activities! Bob was too paranoid after the Patriot act passed and the government had used parts of it to catch New York Governor Elliott Spitzer hiring a prostitute. His good self was now paranoid, but because of the way his life had turned out, it had no hold on him anymore. He was now functioning from some deep, dark space, something he never knew he had. Then finally he plucked up the courage to make an appointment with Candace. Candace looked to be a woman and not a girl. She was shapely, blonde, wore a lot of makeup and strangely resembled Stacey a lot. Perhaps that is why he liked her. He talked with her a lot about things they would do and she agreed to come and meet him at his place for her regular fee and some extra money for gas. This frightened him immensely. It was one thing for it to be a fantasy, but this was a small town and he was terrified. He did not respond for a day and then it was like that deeper space in him took over and made the appointment. What was happening to him? He was no longer in control of his actions. It was almost like something in him became strong, took over and pushed him aside and started to do things. He no longer had full control over his mental faculties. This was extremely horrifying, as he always was very controlled, very logical and very quiet person and now he was turning into some strange creature that functioned from primal instinct.

He thought about cancelling the appointment, but couldn't get himself to do so. He made some food and took it over to Ethel. He loved this area. He had a meat grinder at home and made sausages and the area had a large number of small organic farms, that he bought meat from. He was used to butchering and dealing with carcasses as a kid. He often cooked for Ethel who usually only ate junk food otherwise. Ethel could talk but could not hear and would launch into one of her tales that she had already told a thousand times. She had bred Paint horses and had three stallions of very good lines and a thriving business. But slowly her son moved out and her husband died and she had to sell them. She always had so many tales about horse shows and talked about color patterns –overos and tobianos she called them- bloodlines, judges. "Hello Bob, brought me some home cooked food?" said Ethel. "Yes Ethel" said Bob. "What was that? You are always so soft, I can't hear you" said Ethel and burst out laughing. "Did I ever tell you how my stallion won so many ribbons? I slept with the judge. He was a married man and I slept with him-a good-looking guy. He always placed my stallion first and so I always took my horse across the state to wherever he was judging. Now of course my stud was a good horse, but this just gave him something extra. Oh those were the days. My husband suspected something, but never could put it together and ya know." Ethel went on and on and this was like the hundredth time she had repeated the same tale. She did not even look at Bob when she was talking, just off in her world. Except Jose and Bob, nobody really came by anymore. The owner of the horse ranch down the road was a former student of hers and they graciously sent their help Jose to go over to check on her. Ethel paid him extra and he enjoyed it as it involved light chores and some free junk food and free alcohol. Bob helped Jose with his email and to connect him with his kids in Mexico.

Ethel was her usual self, talking non-stop and eating at the same time. Jose came by at his appointed time and did the few chores and left. Sometimes Jose passed out on the way and woke up later. But he was strong as an ox and dressed for the weather and it never seemed to affect him. The rain usually woke him. Bob was worried he would die someday as it could get cold some days, but he always seemed to be ok. Bob usually was sweet and listened to Ethel, but now he was beginning to get very angry for some reason. He was raging all over and extremely angry. He couldn't bear to listen to her voice and was fuming. He could not figure out why and pretended he had to go somewhere and left in a hurry. What was happening to him? What did sweet old Ethel do to him? Perhaps he should consult a mental health specialist? But at some level, he was beginning to enjoy this. It was some part of him that he never knew he had. He had spent his life never listening to his feelings, never caring about himself and his needs. Always putting his family, office, career, and friends beyond him. His brain could hold it all together, as he was successful and so there was a narrative. There was meaning and purpose to the whole thing. But now there was no meaning anymore. Everything he had worked for in his life had gone up in smoke and to top it off, there was nothing to look forward to. But his conscious narrative was still wired to the concept of working hard, paying your dues and rising to the top. If anything bad happened to someone, it was their fault. Now it was him in his 50s, no job, broken family, no brighter career prospect despite doing it all right and yet broken and alone and lonely. He could not come up with an argument, a meaning, and any sense to explain his predicament. All the bandits who had made this economy a mess were still getting millions in bonuses and flying in private jets. What had he done wrong? He had always done the right thing, why was this happening to him?

Bob's mental state was in a continuous state of flux. His well-worn patterns that had served him well for decades did not serve him anymore. But for decades he had suppressed so many things and they were bursting forth like a volcano and the more he tried to put a lid on it, the more it wanted to burst forth. It was a furious battle. Some might say a battle between good and evil, others a battle between ego and soul-but Bob was just in too much flux to notice. His old tired personality tried to reassert itself and the new resurgent one increasingly pushed it aside.

It was getting closer to the date with Candace. Bob was increasingly nervous. There was a part of him that just wanted to have sex, lots of it and in a crude, crass way. This was a part he had never explored. He and Stacey were the typical married couple who barely had time for each other and in the four years after divorce, he had walled himself off. But this brought on all the inner cravings outside and his limited persona did not know how to handle it. It felt like an immense battle and Bob tried his best to run away –but how do you run away from a battle waging deep within yourself?

Candace was a prostitute since her early teens. She had run away from her abusive home and lived on the streets. She was only 29, but looked late forties. Years of drug and alcohol abuse had taken its toll. Candace usually insisted on a condom, when she was not high. She had not gotten herself tested, as she was too afraid to find out what she had. She also had a long arrest record for numerous offenses, which made getting a regular job almost impossible. She knew she was getting older and did not know what to do as the clients stopped calling. She had nothing to live for. She had been robbed, beaten and had customers run away without paying her. It came with the turf, especially now that she was not walking the streets anymore. The Internet was her friend and she posted a younger version of herself for her ads. Most of the time she got away with it, as she raised a huge scene and she at least got some money. 29 is pretty young, but she looked mid forties and so people felt cheated.

Candace was getting ready. She had a beer and got into her car. She was feeling good. She had been to Marin county many times –many beautiful homes. Many of the men would refuse to pay once they saw her and realized she was not the person in the ad. Some she would just bully and have sex. Others were too meek to bring it up, although their eyes would show their confusion. Then others would refuse and she would start creating a ruckus. Most paid her, as they didn't want their neighbors to know. She enjoyed this game, it was the only power she had over others. Sonoma County was another story. More rural and some houses were on acreage. Many did not care if she raised a ruckus, especially if they were in a remote location. Sometimes she could not swindle them. But she took those bookings on slow days.

Bob was a mess. He hadn't had sex in four years and had never hired a prostitute. He was terrified, had an upset stomach and was very nervous. He thought of calling it off, but it was too late. He was terrified his neighbors may find out or the police and that he may be hauled to jail. "What have you got to lose?" said his inner, resurgent self. "You did everything right and you have lost your job, your family and are a 52 year old unemployed man with diabetes and don't have a home. All your jobs have been off-shored and you only have the small time jobs that you started your career with. What have you got to lose?" Bob did not have an answer. Bob was also alarmed that he was increasingly talking to himself. He remembered all those homeless people talking to themselves. On his daily commute by bus, there was a commuter who talked to himself almost all the way. He never could figure out why this person commuted to San Francisco everyday. But he was too polite to stare or ask. Was he going crazy? But this strange inner self made so much sense. What did he do wrong? He was a good son, a good husband and father and a very good employee. He had ended up with nothing. His professional experience meant nothing and his personal life was hell. He had nothing to show for it and all the people who did not care and who were ruthless seemed to be ahead in this new world. His sense of self and how the world functioned did not make any sense.

Candace was approaching the Marin/Sonoma county border. Traffic was easing up. Some days she felt sorry for herself. But her mother was a drug addicted abusive woman, with a knack for choosing violent, abusive boyfriends. She ran away at fourteen and lived on the streets. She started working the streets early and took drugs and alcohol and never really recovered from there. She did not have a kid, but otherwise she turned out to be a carbon copy of her mother. She did not know how to get out or even wanted to get out. At this point, life was just one big merry go round of drugs, sex, stints in jail and rehab and men paying for it. She was coming to the exit now and slowly pulled into the house. It was beautiful and she loved the woods. She had grown up in the city and as a child had dreamed of working on a farm and wanted to be with animals. But now was too far-gone. She pulled up close to the cabin in the woods and knocked on the door.

Bob was trembling with fear. He did not know what to do. He stared from the window and Candace had caught his stare. When she stepped out of the vehicle, he was stunned. This was not the woman he had agreed to hire. There must be a mistake, perhaps the woman in the ad was sitting in the car and this was the pimp or her friend?? This made him even more nervous. Would the woman/pimp be waiting outside while they were having sex? This would make him really uncomfortable. But Candace knocked on the door, while calling from her cell. Bob answered the door, in his most submissive self and with a great big smile. "Hello I am Candace," said Candace. "Candace, ah, ah Candace-you are Candace, but, but, ah, ah" Bob struggled for words. "Aah, ah, what? Listen you hired me for an hour and if you want to spend an hour stuttering and talking, that's fine by me." said Candace as she pushed her way in. Bob was stunned. This was not the woman in the ad, this was three times the size of the woman in the ad and he still wasn't sure what had just happened-she looked horrendous. "You, ah, don't look like your ad," said Bob. "You ain't all that yourself, so sit your ass down and let's have some fun," said Candace in response.

The previous Bob would have complied. But now he could feel the anger welling up and the rage. He had hired a prostitute and he couldn't even get that right. He was fuming, "Why has the world conspired against me? What have I done wrong? Can't you just give me one hour of sex and fun?" Bob was fuming inside, although he looked to be his meek, demure self on the outside. Candace barely noticed. She was used to this. She did look good when she was younger, but not anymore. She had developed a nasty personality to match and except for the new client calls, she did not get many calls. This was her way of making more money and most men just paid her something for her to shut up and get out-provided she raised a big ruckus. Sometimes she wondered if someone might harm her-but it had never happened-she seemed to be a magnet for the meek ones. In a big city, there were plenty of new fish and tourists out having a good time and cheating on their wives back home. They did not want the publicity either. Candace lit up a cigarette and took a puff, "You just gonna stare at me the whole hour. That's fine by me as long as you pay me. I will do whatever you want." Bob was fuming. His normal self was trying to shut down the dark storm clouds emerging, but could not do so. "I think you had better leave, I will pay you the gas money, but, but, ah, this is not right, I booked with the ad in the "Bob said, before being cut off. "I don't care what you booked for, you little weasel, you pay me the full and I leave or else, I am warning you, I will bring your neighbors running here." Candace had seen Ethel in the main house and so she was a little braver. She figured Bob wouldn't want his neighbors to know. What Candace hadn't figured out was that Ethel was deaf and barely moved. "Listen, you better get started or just pay me to leave, you silly little men can't get it up and have to hire women to get it done and you think you can stiff me?" Candace asked, raising her voice all the time and increasing her insults.

Normally Bob would be cowering down, bending over backwards to please Candace. He hated being in the spotlight, hated being picked on and always wanted to be the good guy. Candace had judged him to be that too. These men were all big company people and yet couldn't handle people like her-they were like zoo animals that could only perform and live in their cages. Their constructed cages of reality, with their procedures and their hierarchy and their decision making process. What fools! All their fancy doctorates couldn't prepare them to deal with a woman like her! She enjoyed it and she was enjoying it even more today to pick on this mousy old man. But today was different. Bob's inner forces took over, "shut up," he said. "Excuse me?" said Candace. Maybe it was the way she said it or the sum total of all his frustrations, but Bob lost it completely. He attacked her with all he had. Bob punched her and broke her jaw. Candace was stunned and bleeding and fell. Bob had become an animal, like a savage hyena ripping apart its prey and beat her with everything he had. Candace reached for her gun she had in her purse. Bob noticed it and they fought for the gun and in her weakened state, Candace was no match for Bob. Bob got the gun and started pummeling Candace with the gun. Candace tried to fight, but Bob got up from the floor and started to kick her. Candace was begging," Please let me go, I don't need the money, just let me go" but she was getting weak. Bob felt so good, so alive. He felt like a living breathing life form and not a machine, not a computer that was supposed to perform as per the programming. He was alive and the adrenalin was surging through him. He noticed his metal lamp, grabbed it and bought it down on Candace's knee. Candace screamed in anguish as she felt intolerable pain in her knee. "You were going to bring the neighbors down weren't you-you dumb bitch?" Bob roared tauntingly. "Well she can't hear and is deaf," said Bob smiling and laughing. Candace was rolling on the floor with blood all over the carpet; she was delirious and struggling to hold on to consciousness. Her attention was trying to go to many places, to keep a hold on reality. She had flashes of her mommy and realized she still loved her.

Bob was like an enraged bull. The more Candace screamed and begged for mercy, the more he attacked her. Candace was begging, screaming, and threatening him and this only enticed Bob even more. He was transported into this primal plane and felt like a predator ripping his prey apart. Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl. Suddenly there was a loud noise and Candace did not feel anything, she felt peace and her consciousness was fading. Bob looked down at Candace; he had shot her in the head. He felt his normal self-coming back and yet he stood there laughing at this whole thing. He howled like a wolf and then roared like a lion. "I am going crazy," said Bob and he laughed. Then he saw Candace and more of his normal self-started to come in. His fearful self started to come in and he wondered if she was really dead. The other part of him rushed out and he shot her again, through the head and the heart and felt her pulse just to be sure. She was gone. Bob sat down, adrenalin still rushing, but beginning to slow down. He was covered in blood and brain matter was splattered across his carpet and walls. He did not know what to do. He sat down for a few minutes. Jose had left before Candace's appointment and would not be coming till tomorrow. He was nervous, angry, pacing, fearful with multiple voices all talking within him. "Shut up" he screamed at himself. "Relax and everything will be fine", "Fine, what do you mean fine, we have a dead body and blood and brain matter all over the cabin." "So what, we can clean it up and make it go away, how many animals have you gutted?" Bob's different selves started conversing with himself. He was panicky, still angry at Candace, fearful, terrified at being caught and yet supremely relaxed and he was feeling them all at the same time. Instead of experiencing life sequentially, he was experiencing all things at once. He did not what to do, then just sat there and turned on the TV. For a while, he watched the TV.

Bob fixed himself dinner. When he came back to the living room, Candace was still there, dead. Bob was surprised, almost not expecting to see her there. For some strange reason, he chuckled. He ate dinner, while watching TV and then sat on top of Candace and watched some more TV and finished up dinner. His innards were still buzzing, almost like a diesel engine that is still warm after running for a while. He fell asleep there, on top of Candace. The next morning, he woke up with a nasty headache and with Candace still there. His cabin stunk. He was in a daze. He showered and came back, Candace was still there. Bob now realized that he had to get rid of the body. He just did not know how. He had watched too much of those crime scene dramas and was scared of being found out. But in a couple of hours, Jose would be here and he might notice the stink-not to mention all the coyotes and maybe the neighborhood bear too. Bob's cabin was a nice setup, a living room, a bedroom and a kitchen. It had electricity, a shed where he kept wood and a garden. It was in the woods and he loved it. Bob suddenly remembered his meat grinder and the ax and decided that would be the best way to get rid of the body. He was afraid that otherwise, someone may find it and it may lead back to him. Those crime scene dramas made it look very easy. Bob brought the ax in and started chopping Candace up. He put her remains in the freezer. He was halfway through it and suddenly remembered Candace's car. If Jose saw it, he might unwittingly tell someone. He had to get rid of it. Candace had the key in her purse and Bob started the car. It was a newer Honda car. Bob wondered how she could afford such a new car? Bob drove it down into a mud road behind his cabin and under some dense branches and parked it there for now. He would still have to get rid of Candace, before worrying about her car. Bob finally finished clearing up Candace, although her blood and her pieces remained splattered across his living room.

Bob could see Jose walking up the path from his employer's horse ranch. Jose went straight to Ethel's and started his chores. Bob was mortified. What if Jose decided to come knocking? He did that sometimes to check the Internet and see if his kids had sent him any emails. Not often, but maybe once a week. Bob was nervous, he didn't have time to clear the blood and then he looked at his shotgun in the wall casing. He hadn't used it in a long time. It was from his childhood days. He took it out and waited for Jose. Jose finished his chores and left. Bob heaved a sigh of relief. Bob really liked Jose. Jose always treated him with respect and he had gotten to know Jose's family. But at the moment Bob felt like an animal and all that did not matter at all. But as Jose left, Bob started to feel a little fearful and a little bad about what he had done to Candace. But then the other part of him took over and he did not feel bad at all. He savored it and relished it. He felt like a man, a human, something with feelings. But now he would have to get rid of all evidence. He had used odor neutralizers during his childhood days. But Jose was gone and so he opened the windows a little and then went out and bought an odor neutralizer. He chatted with Charlie the shop owner for a while, who was his usual jovial self. Charlie and his sons went hunting and fishing often and reminded Bob of his neighbors while growing up. He came back and sprayed the neutralizers. He meticulously vacuumed his entire living room and bleached the whole cabin. He cut up the carpet and burned it . He then went to work on the body with the meat grinder. His friend Lex a few miles down had three big rotties. His friend Lex was out of town and Bob had agreed to feed them for a few days. Bob fed them the mashed up remains of Candace. The dogs seemed to love it. Soon Candace was no more. Bob checked the dog poop, just to make sure nothing turned up, but it was ground up and so it looked ok. Bob cleaned it and now relaxed.

Once the danger ceased, Bob returned to his usual self again. Yet now it was almost like there were two parts of him. One was Bob the submissive person and the other the caged animals that had broken free and were not going back in any time soon. Anytime Bob felt a little bit of guilt, that part unleashed itself and Bob became quiet again. He actually began to enjoy that part of himself more. A few days passed and Bob hadn't decided what he would do with the car yet. He had removed the license plate and the VIN number. He also found that Candace had a stash of three thousand dollars in the glove compartment and another thousand in her boot. He laughed, almost taunting her in the other side. Bob was slowly getting back to his quiet existence, but now the uncaged animal side of him refused to sit down and be quiet and started to nag him. Bob tried to go the library and surf the Internet and join forums. But he was not the same and nothing worked. There was a restlessness in him, something he had not experienced before.

The Second Date

Bob was a lot calmer now. It had been two months now and nobody had noticed Candace. He religiously searched the missing person's reports and volunteered at their groups. But Candace never came up anywhere-perhaps she was all alone. Bob gained a lot of confidence and was now getting ready to try dating. He was terrified of what he had done and did not want to repeat it again. But it was almost like his psyche had split into several pieces and each was acting on its own and so he really did not feel remorse. It was one jumbled mess in there.

This time, he took steps to make sure that there would be no repeat of the prior session. He took to the Internet again and found Allison. Allison was a sweet, young girl and looked very youngish. Bob explained to her that he had been cheated before and so he needed her to be exactly like she was in her ad. Allison had a chat service going on and asked Bob to log in and he did. He could interact with her online and so he realized it was the real person. He again confirmed that he would not agree to a different person. The date was set and Bob was ready.

Bob was not apprehensive at all this time. Bob made some food and walked over to Ethel. Ethel was sitting by the back, watching the creek flow. "Oh, you startled me" Ethel said. Bob smiled and gave her the food and he started eating his dinner too. Ethel launched into one of her stories again and Bob was not paying attention. His attention was elsewhere. "You know, you have changed somewhat-are you dating someone?" Ethel asked. "Who me? No, no ", Bob said and laughed and shook his head side to side. Ethel then launched into another one of her stories. Bob started to get angry and then he realized why. Ethel was deaf, but even otherwise; all she wanted was someone to listen and really didn't care about his point of view. He was tired of that, tired of being the doormat and then smiled and said something and walked away. Again he descended into chaos. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just talk and be friends, but the deep dark waves were surfacing and he fled and started to eat something and tried to divert it by watching TV. It worked sometimes.

Allison was getting ready for her appointment. Allison was a sweet young girl barely just in her twenties. She had an angelic face and was a natural blonde. She was a foster child and at eighteen found herself on her own. She teamed up with two friends who were the same. Oliver was a year older than her, six feet six inches tall and weighed three hundred pounds. He had glasses on and was very aggressive. Jonathan was the same age as her and was black. He was very slim, good-looking and very energetic. Jonathan and Allison had fallen in love and Oliver and they formed a family unit of their own. Both Allison and Jonathan had websites and chat rooms of their own and slowly had started prostituting on the side. They viewed it as business and still loved each other. Oliver provided the muscle power and was very tech savvy. Both had planned to go to school, but with the economy the way it is, they wondered why bother with it? It is not like there would be a job waiting for them. Allison's mom was locked up in a mental institution for killing her father. She did not have any relatives. Jonathan was molested by his step father and his mother ignored it. His relatives did not want to raise him as many were in utter disarray. Thus he ended up in foster homes. Oliver was orphaned by his adoptive parents. He was adopted by an older couple who died and he had been in foster care ever since. The three could understand each other and worked together and were happy, despite their line of work. None of them had been arrested so far. Drugs and alcohol helped ease any pain away.

Jonathan was driving and had started early, as he wanted to walk on the Golden Gate Bridge. They stopped at the northern parking lot and the two lovebirds walked on the bridge. Oliver waited on the bridge, content to take in the view of the islands, the bay and the city. The two returned back and were getting ready to leave. Allison and Jonathan were planning to quit and maybe start a small restaurant somewhere. They were getting tired of the city life and its sterile lifestyle. All three longed for a place to belong and care about. Then they headed to Bob's house. Allison marveled at the beautiful place. The beautiful cabin set in the woods. It was evening and the fog started to roll in and it was gorgeous. Allison smoked a joint and relaxed. Maybe in a year or two, they might have enough money saved up to buy a place of their own.

Bob was watching from the window as the car rolled in. They parked a while away and Bob saw the two men and Allison. Allison kissed Jonathan and walked up to the cabin. Bob grew panicked. The black kid looked young, but the white guy was humongous and terrified him. Were they here to rob him? Bob panicked and got his shotgun ready, and kept it hidden in the closet by the door. Allison walked up and called Bob on the phone while knocking on the door. Bob opened the door. "Hi, am I as I advertised on the ad?" asked Allison as she smiled beautifully. She was very attractive. Bob mumbled yes and said, "Come in." "So what you want to do?" asked Allison. "Huh, yes, huh those your friends in the car?" asked Bob. "Oh those two, don't worry about them, they just gave me a ride as I don't have a car-let's get on with it" said Allison giggling and feeling up Bob. Bob was nervous and getting a relaxed at the same time, when he heard a car door slam real loud. It was Oliver. Bob got up to see what was going on. It was the big man getting out of the car and talking on the phone. The slim, young black man was already out of the car and staring at the cabin. Allison's phone rang and she picked it up and said "Hi baby". That was their password to make sure everything was going all right. Bob panicked. He felt trapped. He felt he was going to be robbed by the three of them and that they would definitely kill him. Waves of fear arose and yet outwardly he looked fine. Allison kept the phone down and smiled and said, "Come on over Daddy" and started to take her clothes off. Bob panicked even more. The car was parked away from the cabin, but he could see them through the foliage very clearly as it was thinned out. Bob's paranoia increased tremendously. In his mind, Allison was trying to distract him, so that the other two could swoop in and kill him and take his belongings. He felt like a trapped cat.

Bob said he had to go to the restroom and would be back in a minute. "Don't keep me waiting too long, Big daddy", said a very smiling and seductive Allison. Bob was now sure Allison and her friends meant to kill him. Bob picked up his butcher knife and a towel and came back. He had the huge knife behind the towel in his hand and pretended like he was wiping his hand. Every muscle in him was tense and his concentration was intense on Allison, like an eagle on a hare. A small voice said to him, "Maybe she was just talking to her friend?" "Shut up" came the furious reply and Bob became as cold as a lion watching its prey. He smiled at her and she smiled back and started to say something, when he shoved the towel into her mouth and with the other hand started slicing her up. He kneed her and was stabbing her very precisely. Humans were not that different from animals-all had hearts, lungs, brains and arteries and veins. The only thing that was different in a human was location and Bob was pretty experienced with animals. Allison came out of her shock and lunged sideways and tried to put up a fight. But despite the adrenalin rush, she was too injured and sustained deep internal injuries. She screamed in pain, but the only thing coming out was muffled voices. She tripped and fell and grabbed a light that fell too. Bob stabbed her even harder and slowly the life ebbed out of her. She could not feel anything anymore. Bob continued to stab her continuously, but she did not move. Bob then heard Allison's phone ring. He started butchering her in the neck area and managed to cut almost half off. The phone went to message. Bob now got up and edged to the window. It was the fat man on the phone and both were looking at the cabin. Perhaps they were coming in to rob him now. Oliver and Jonathan had just heard the commotion and were worried. "We should check them out, something feels wrong, she always answers the phone," said Jonathan. They tried a few more times, no answer. Oliver did not want to disturb the client, but it was not like Allison to not pick up a call from them. The noise also frightened them. Jonathan could feel it intuitively-something was definitely wrong. They decided to just knock on the door and say Hi.

Bob saw them coming towards the cabin. His worst paranoid fears were confirmed. They were coming to kill him. Bob closed the curtains fully. He loaded the shotgun and ran towards the back exit. He exited and doubled back through a path in the garden and the woods. He came upon the parked car and slowly inched forward, first making sure no one else was in the car. The two men were at the door and were still trying to call Allison once more. She did not pick up the phone. Jonathan knocked on the door.

Bob aimed for big, huge guy. But then he looked at the young, slim black kid and realized if he shot the big man, the kid might run away. The woods are very easy to disappear into. The big guy might have some trouble running away. He aimed for Jonathan's back; right in the heart area and Jonathan fell. Oliver was stunned and looked downward and froze –he could not comprehend what was going on. Bob had fired his second shot and Oliver fell right into the wheelbarrow. Bob ran in and fired another shot into Oliver's head. Blood and brain matter splattered everywhere. Bob caught some movement and it was Jonathan. He was still alive and vomiting blood profusely. As Bob came up to him, he looked up in terror and fear and asked," Why? Please, no, let Allison go". Jonathan did not realize that Allison was already dead. Bob shot him in the face. He then proceeded to shoot both of them numerous times to make sure they were dead. He went in and shot Allison's corpse a few times too. He was raging and fierce and in a frenzy and was ready to shoot anyone that came nearby. An hour passed as he paced up and down. His rage was intense and so were the feelings and the primal energies of life and death. He fell on the floor screaming," What have I done?" Great sorrow burst forth from his heart and he cried and screamed. But there was nobody to hear his screams- at least anybody alive. Except old Ethel who was deaf.

Bob snapped out of his anguish and sat around looking at the carnage. He was in a very peaceful state. He knew he had to clean the scene up. This time he got to work right away. He started the car and parked it right behind Candace's car. He started chopping up the trio and used the wheelbarrow to move them to the freezer. He worked late at night. He hosed down as much as could and it started raining at night. It washed away most of the remains. But he still sprayed odor neutralizers and bleached the entire front portion of the cabin the next morning. He was sleeping soundly when he heard a noise- a big giant thud. He peered outside and it was Jose mid way between the cabin and Ethel's house. Jose had passed out drunk and lay there. It started to rain again and Jose woke up and stumbled back towards the horse ranch. Bob wondered how he managed to work and hold down so much liquor. But he was just fine.

Bob was really worried. He had two strange cars and three dead chopped up bodies. He started to grind them up. His friend Lex was back and so couldn't feed the rotties. Then he remembered the raccoons. He thawed and then ground and boiled a small portion and left a bit overnight for the raccoons. He checked them the next day, the meat was gone. He decided this would be a safe way to dispose of the remains. It would take a long time for three bodies, so he bought another grinder. He was grinding, when he wondered how it would taste. Would each taste different according to their diet-just like the difference between corn-fed beef and grass-fed beef? Would the big man taste different because of his fat? He snapped back and was a bit worried that he was thinking of such odd things. But once it went through the grinder, it looked just like any other meat. He couldn't resist and tasted a little and it tasted good! He was immediately horrified and then went about grinding more meat and used both the grinders. He then left a much bigger chunk of meat outdoors. Night brought some loud noises. The raccoons always made noises, but this was bigger. Bob slowly peered out – it was a mountain lion. Bob was stunned. At first he thought it was a bobcat, but it was too big for a bobcat. Perhaps it was a juvenile lion that mama had pushed out. The lion became wary and took off. Bob checked the next day and all the meat was gone. He spent all afternoon grinding the meat and placed it outside. Next morning it was all gone. Bob was going to do the same again, when he started to think of cooking some for him. He loved fat and so cooked the fat guy's meat and made a couple of meat pies out of it. He placed an even bigger quantity of meat outside and next morning took some meat pies over to Ethel. "These are delicious" Ethel said, while launching on to stories about her horses. Jose came by and Bob offered him some meat pies. Jose had some meat pies and he loved it. Both wondered if it was a new recipe or if he had gotten the meat from a newer organic farm. Bob smiled and chomped on the meat pie himself. The meat pies were soon over and Ethel kept talking and Jose helped himself to the liquor that Ethel always had in her house. Bob returned home and fell asleep-he felt well after a long time.

The Car Disposal

Between feeding the wild animals, Ethel, Jose and himself, the remains would soon disappear. Bob was worried about the cars though. Both cars were in his neighborhood. He was worried about Allison's car especially. The trio had a chat room and he was really worried that investigators might find that she chatted with him. They might even have an appointment log online somewhere. Bob became paranoid. He decided to dump the car in San Francisco somewhere. But he was scared and did not know if police had the license plate number. He cleaned the car with bleach and removed all personal effects. He decided to go park it in a different city and go abandon it in Oakland instead. At first, he thought he would take it to a junkyard, but then he didn't want any record of him with the car-he had watched too many of those crime scene dramas and was paranoid. He decided to take his shotgun with him for protection. It was sawed off and so not very big. He knew Oakland well, as he used to live there for a few years. He found an industrial area that was not too far from houses and had a bus line a few blocks away. That area was notorious for car theft and a good car left out at night was a sitting target. It would be stolen very quickly. He had thought of sending it to a chop shop or a junkyard. But he didn't know of any chop shops that took in strange cars without any questions. He didn't exactly hang out in criminal circles. He decided he would park there and walk away to the bus line. That area was not very populated, although in a very rough area, but close to the bus. He would take the bus back to the BART train and then take get off and take the Golden Gate transit bus back to home.

Bob started the drive to Oakland. He was very nervous of being caught. He had followed the same procedure as Candace. So far no missing persons reports in the chatter and volunteer groups. Perhaps they were runaways and nobody missed them? He laughed and wondered if anyone would care if he went missing. Perhaps Stacey might care because of the stop in child support and alimony payments –but otherwise would anyone care? Ethel only seemed to remember the names of her horses and didn't seem to care about humans much. Bob slowly made his way onto the bridge and reached the 80 freeway and slowly reached his desired exit. He drove a few city streets and absolutely kept under the speed limit. He didn't want to go too slow, as that might attract attention. He hid his shotgun under the seat and threw a coat over it.

Bob arrived at this street and looked around. It was isolated. There weren't any people there and he parked and turned off the lights. He had worn gloves, so as to not leave any evidence. Bob took a deep breath, left the window slightly open and took his coat and gun. He hid the gun under his coat and started walking. He took the keys-that would be too easy and a would-be thief might suspect something or so he thought. Bob walked away quickly and he could see the bus line. This area was bad and was a known drug and violent area. He could hear very loud music, but that was quite common in this area. But this side was less populated and then as he reached the end and turned a corner, he saw three men beating another man. The downed man was bleeding profusely and hunched over in a fetal position. Two of the assailants had gold chains on and the other was tattooed all over. A boom box on the sidewalk was blaring loud music. No wonder he did not hear the screams or perhaps the victim was gagged or unconscious. Bob's heart skipped a beat. One of the three noticed Bob and then all three noticed Bob.

Bob was terrified. Were these drug dealers? He knew this area and usually there were not any people, except some homeless, as it was not a residential area, just close to one. Perhaps they lived in the abandoned old factory? Maybe they stashed their drugs there? Bob's other self-started to emerge as the three men walked towards him yelling obscenities. Bob was petrified, then enraged, then angry and then he licked his lips and laughed. Something else took him over. He ducked back around the corner and took the shotgun out. He jumped back and shot the first one. The eyes of the other men turned as big as saucers. They did not expect this from a balding, grey haired middle-aged thin decent looking man. Bob shot the other one too and the third one raised his hands over his shoulders and knelt down." Hey we were just playing with you man, chill –we didn't mean anything" said the man. "Face the ground" yelled Bob. "Ok man, ok, don't shoot" said the guy. As the guy faced the ground, Bob shot him in the face and the guy slumped over. The victim on the ground who was being beaten stood up and looked at Bob. Bob shot him too-he was in a frenzy. Bob then shot the other men again multiple times and made sure they were dead. He then shot at the victim and made sure he was dead too. "Good thing I bought some extra ammo" Bob thought.

Bob looked at all four and was transfixed. The adrenalin was flowing and Bob was in some strange trance like state. "Perhaps this is how the old warriors felt" Bob thought. It was a strange energy-a sort of controlled rage, primal instinct and he was ready to kill anyone who came in his way. A breeze picked up and Bob came back to his normal self. Panic struck him. He couldn't realize if he wanted to go to the bus or go back to the car. Then he wondered if he had some blood on him and looked at himself. Yes he had a lot of blood. Bob felt a surge of panic hit his gut and his mind lost its equilibrium. He started to cry, became like a child and was terrified. Then something deeper and darker took over and he fled the scene towards the car. He could feel panic, anger, fear, terror, rage and a sense of control all at the same time. Bob reached the car and got in it. He fumbled for the keys and finally found them. His hands were shivering and he could barely put the keys in the ignition. He felt like throwing up, but then his mind swooped in and took control. He turned on the key and drove to the exit. Bob was nervous. He turned on the A/C full blast, as he felt very hot. He got on the freeway and took the exit to take the Richmond Bridge back home and then realized he would have to stop at the tollbooth and pay the toll and he was pretty sure they had cameras. What if the tollbooth operator saw his bloody clothes? "Let's shoot him too," a voice in his head said. Bob laughed, feeling omnipotent. For the first time in his life, he felt in control of his life and circumstances. Bob took an exit before the bridge and doubled back and rejoined the 80-freeway and then took the 37-freeway exit. That would connect him to the 101 and back home to the woods in Sonoma County.

Bob was driving along, careful not to exceed the speed limit or drive too slow. His inner state was getting a little more composed and he slowly started to relax. He turned the music on and went on to the AM news stations. "Breaking news- Four men shot dead and at this time police believe it to be gang related violence," said the news announcer. Bob froze. It had been an hour and half after the shooting. Between the traffic and detour, he had taken some time. Bob started sweating and panicking. Did he leave any evidence behind? Did any of them survive? He shot them and made sure that they were dead, but his mind started to play tricks on him. Perhaps the police department hired a medium or a psychic like that show on TV? Was that stuff real? Perhaps advance medicine could resuscitate them if only for a minute? Bob's mind swept into a frenzy of erratic thought. The real and the bizarre and scenes from TV all merged to form one giant nebulous reality for him-indistinguishable from each other. Bob started screaming and yelling and talking to himself. Parts of him were raging, others close to a breakdown, yet others crying and terrified and yet something was holding it all together. Then the sirens came on behind him-it was a police car, with full sirens on.

Bob's multiple voices came to a screeching halt. Then they burst forth again. Had he been caught, did they trace him; perhaps satellites in the sky trace every person? His mind was splitting apart in so many directions. "Shut up" screamed a loud voice, "We took care of four gangsters, one cop is not going to be difficult" Bob heard a voice say in his head. Bob smirked and laughed. He felt like some wild outlaw in the West. How he wished he had a scarf that he could tie around his neck-he wanted to look like one. Bob had forgotten to hide the shotgun and it still was loaded. He pulled over, waiting for the police to come to a stop behind him. But the police-it was Highway Patrol- zoomed past him. Bob was puzzled. Were they setting a trap for him? Did they know he was armed and dangerous and so were there a multitude of cars waiting for him ahead? Bob continued slowly behind the car. It was dark and he could see the flashing lights and just as he was about to pick up speed, another bigger vehicle with flashing lights came up behind him. Bob pulled over, with the gun ready to fire. It was an ambulance. Bob relaxed somewhat – perhaps there was an accident. He hid the gun under his coat, but kept it in the passenger seat and drove on. Nervous, but quiet. Then he could see the Highway patrol car and the ambulance stop in the distance and as he came closer, saw an SUV upside down in the gulley. It had probably veered off-it happened sometimes on this stretch. Bob slowed down and slowly passed by. The officer was directing him forward and he slowly passed by. Bob was nervous if the officer would see his blood stained clothes, but the officer was barely looking at him. Bob passed on, very relieved. He reached his home late at night and went to sleep bloody clothes and all –after parking the car in the hiding place.

Bob did not wake up till late afternoon. When he woke up, it was raining outside. Bob woke up and almost felt like he was in a dream. The events of the last night were still fresh. Bob sat in the bed for half an hour. He noticed the blood stained clothes and stared at the blood intently. He was now really worried about what was happening to him. Perhaps he should have gone to a doctor? But he couldn't go now-what could he tell them, "Hey, I just killed close to ten people and don't feel guilty at all-why is that doc?" Bob chuckled imagining the look on the doctor's face. Bob went to the shower and showered and then took his blood stained clothes and tossed them onto the wood furnace. He was now worried. The rain stopped. Bob still had a few meat pies left and heated up two in the microwave and ate them. He chuckled again and realized he had just eaten human meat.

Bob freshened up and decided to head to his favorite spot- the Sonoma coast. He took his own car and drove slowly. He couldn't understand what was going on. The faces of Allison and Candace and all the guys started to float before him. He started worrying. Now he was really worried about the killings in Oakland. He pulled over and checked the internet through his phone. The four murders were big news, but police still said it was gang violence. Bob suddenly realized he had to get rid of the shotgun, but then decided he would do it later. Something was drawing him to the coast. That was the area he always went to, to find peace. It soothed him, the wild and rugged coastline, the lack of people, and the wild waves hurtling towards the shore. He even saw a gray whale once. It was lovely, somber place where mundane human considerations almost ceased to exist. Nature in her eternal cycles was in full display.

Bob parked his car and slowly walked to the edge of a cliff. This was one of his favorite spots. It wasn't a tall cliff, but protruded into the ocean for about hundred feet. Maybe about fifty feet above sea level. The violent, thrashing waves rushed on both sides and it made him feel part of the ocean and land. He often forgot himself and felt he was part of something bigger. The rains had stopped, but the night sky was clogged with dark clouds. It made it seem even more otherworldly. Bob lay down and started drifting away. What was happening to him? Why did he not feel guilty? He would feel guilty even if he arrived two minutes late for an appointment. He always felt guilty, even if said no to anybody. He had to come up with some white lie to make it seem like there was a genuine reason he was turning them down. He really had a problem saying no, being wrong and had this overwhelming need to be right and be a good person. Why did he not feel guilty?

Bob kept staring at the sky and listening to the waves hoping for an answer. Yet none came forth. He couldn't muster up the guilt. He thought about the warriors of the last centuries. Brutal men who lived and died by the sword or gun. Did they feel guilty? What about the guy who dropped the bomb at Hiroshima? Did he feel guilty? Then Bob thought of the meat pies. He marveled at the similarities between humans and animals. He thought about cannibalistic societies. Did they have human meat recipes passed down the generations? Did they enjoy BBQ human ribs or steak? Perhaps they mixed it with rice in some sort of curry? Bob snapped back and sat up. Why was he thinking like this? "You just killed a bunch of folks, you fool" a voice sneered, "But I didn't mean to, I just, I just," "You just what" the voice sneered again. Bob became quiet as the voices took over and argued within him. Then he noticed the waves and the dark sky and became quiet again. He wondered if not eating human was merely a cultural taboo? After all in some countries eating cow or pork was taboo? But otherwise it tasted so good- not just him- Ethel and Jose loved human meat pie, even though they did not know what it was.

Bob was deeply engrossed in his inner mental ramblings. He wondered if humans are being bred like animals. Today's factory farmed animals in no way resembled the animals of just a few generations ago. Turkeys were bred with breasts so big, that they could barely walk. Pigs were kept in tiny crates and most dairy calves barely knew their mothers, before they were removed. Animals were bred for the system, to make them most efficient and to keep them that way; any number of drugs would be used. He wondered if humans too were being bred in some unconscious way to be slaves to the big corporations. To just toil along with no feelings. To work like him for decades and then be deferential when tossed aside like a piece of garbage and actually help the person who is tossing you aside. Would primitive, tribal cultures ever agree to something like this-the ones most people called savages. Perhaps civilization slowly selected for compliant, reliable people. People with an individual streak were tossed to the fringes of society, drugged up and made into bad people. When some higher up authority asks you to kill someone-you kill them without even asking or knowing why. Yet you as an individual could not do so. Perhaps this is what society needed to be, for it to be function with millions of folks doing their jobs in the belief that some mythical all knowing leader knows everything and does everything for the common good.

Then what had happened to him, Bob wondered. Why did he feel so powerful and so normal about killing people? Why did he feel human again? Why did he feel so empowered and alive? Perhaps the animals had it better? Their cages are real and in the physical realm. Humans' cages are mental. Ideas and beliefs, good and bad are drilled into them with constant rewards and punishments to reinforce the belief of right and wrong. By the time you grow up, the mind draws the fences. The animal on the other hand can flee if the fence falls down. Perhaps his mental fence had fallen down. Perhaps his mind had broken down because he had done everything right and yet everything wrong had happened to him. Perhaps his mental cages could not contain himself anymore? If those beliefs were not real, then what was real?? What is right and wrong? What is reality? Bob heard a noise and sat up again. He looked intently and it was skunk. Bob got up and walked away – he did not want to be sprayed. Bob walked back to the car- in a few hours the no parking hours would kick in and he did not want to attract attention. Bob's mind kept wandering in many directions. He was angry, sad, despondent, powerful and sometimes felt all the things at the same time. But he was alive and he had never felt so alive before.

Bob suddenly remembered he had to get rid of both cars behind his cabin and rushed back to his home. As he pulled up, he saw a big pickup truck. It was Olaf Swensson. Olaf was the local plumber. A big imposing figure that was very dominating and enjoyed throwing his weight around to little men like Bob. He was married to Gertrude, who was tiny and sweet as apple pie. She barely spoke a word and was very quiet. Bob was always very deferential to Olaf and Olaf always sensed that. He always made jokes about Bob and was very rude and condescending. Bob took it meekly, always trying to please and get along and not raise a scene and appear as non-threatening as possible. Olaf came here occasionally to fix things for Ethel or his cabin. Olaf would just barge in and start guffawing and bellowing orders at Bob. He would then ask Bob to come with him and accompany him on his rounds. Bob never knew how to say no and always complied. Bob usually saw his truck and ran to the back exit and went hiking. He did that a lot. Bob would then hide in the woods, waiting for Olaf to tire and go away. But some days, Olaf would catch Bob before he could flee or as he was coming in and Bob wasted half his day hanging with Olaf. Bob pretended to like Olaf and Olaf actually thought of him as a dear friend.

"Hi there boy, what ya been up to" bellowed Olaf upon seeing Bob exit. Bob would normally smile and ingratiate himself to Olaf. But this time, he could not bring himself to do it. He stared at Olaf and gave a cold icy smile. Olaf got a call from someone and he hurried along. Bob was stunned and wondered what had brought the change? Usually Olaf would shower him with insults, pretending to be joking and then dragged him along for the rest of the workday. Bob had been bothered by Olaf for a long time and did not know what to do. But now he decided he would take care of him once and for all.

Bob ran into the house and got his shotgun and his coat. It was fully loaded. Bob followed Olaf. It didn't have too many turnoffs for a long while and Bob caught up with the truck, but it turned away from Olaf's home. Perhaps Olaf was going to see a customer? But then Olaf made a turn into a dirt road. This was Olaf's home too, but he usually rented it out. Olaf had bought Bob here and made him stand around while working on things. Bob could never muster the courage to say no. In a sad way, this further isolated Bob. He kept away from most people that could take a hint and dense bullies like Olaf got closer to him as they did not take subtle hints. Even if he was direct, they came up with something-they needed inner strength to make them back off and Bob decided he was going to show him how strong he was. The cabin was just a few feet from the main road, but at an angle –so you couldn't see. Bob parked his car off road in the woods slightly hidden by branches. Bob got his coat and his shotgun and walked towards the cabin. He saw Olaf getting out and greeted by a young boy. Olaf took in runaway kids-mostly boys and he helped them get started. He was very tough on them, but he claimed this is what made them men. Olaf slapped the boy real hard. Bob was momentarily stunned. Olaf then started yelling at him about calling him without permission unless it was emergency. The boy mumbled something crying at the same time. Bob got closer through the woods and stepped on a branch that cracked. Both Olaf and the boy heard it and walked towards Bob. Bob hid behind a wide tree and got the shotgun ready. "Probably a damn raccoon" said Olaf. Yeah, said the boy. "Look you are more trouble than you are worth, I pay you, feed you and ask you to do some work and you can't get that right?" Olaf thundered. "There is no food left," said the boy still sobbing. The boy seemed erratic in his speech. Bob had noticed that before. On occasion, Olaf took in these runaway boys who seemed very odd acting with a glazed look in their eyes. The gossip around town was that he was sleeping with them, but Bob was never the kind to listen to gossip. Olaf hurled insults at the boy and the boy kept sobbing. Finally Olaf hugged him and started making out –Bob got the courage to peek out and was stunned. So this was his secret? Hire drug addicted runaways and molest them? Well most looked over the legal age, but they looked desperate-I guess there is no smoke without fire. Then he realized what he had seen in the boy-himself. Olaf was an expert at finding selfless boys like him and then probably slowly started out joking insults and then made that person feel worthless and finally had them submit-at least until they got the courage to run away again. Now he understood Gertrude-probably had the life sucked out of her. While Olaf had never put the moves on him, he probably took pleasure in emotionally molesting him. He was about to shoot him, when he got a different idea and Bob smiled. He carefully went back to his car and drove away.

He would take care of Olaf in a different way. This was different. Before he reacted out of panic, but now Bob was shifting into deliberative thought and action. Bob first needed to get rid of the cars. Then he realized he had Allison's cell phone. He decided on a plan of action. He cleaned the car and bleached it and then washed it again and left it to dry. He charged up her cell phone. Bob had helped Gertrude with her email numerous times and he knew her password. Bob was very fond of photography and videotaping and had uploaded numerous nature videos onto the web. Bob tailed Olaf in Allison's car and staked out the cabin with the boy. He knew the comings and goings of Olaf. Olaf often made out with the boy outside, as nobody could see from the road and he would hear if someone used the dirt road. Once he figured out Olaf's schedule with the boy, Bob stealthily videotaped Olaf. He made sure he got enough footage that there would be no doubt.

Bob had got the footage and got Allison's phone and car and drove up to Oregon on the I5. As long as you did 70 or 75mph, nobody pulled you over. Bob did 69 and went all the way into Oregon and then took the exit to go see his hometown. He barely recognized it. He drove by to a very remote camp spot he knew and then stayed there a few days. Over the course of the next few days, he set up a new email and hacked into Gertrude's and sent back and forth emails. He pretended like Gertrude was asking some Private Investigator proof that he was cheating on him. Gertrude offered to pay $5,000 for proof. Bob posing as the P.I agreed and asked him to email cash only. Bob sent Gertrude all the photos. Bob then changed the password to Gertrude's email address, so she couldn't access it. Bob then dumped the phone, stomped it and made sure it was destroyed. Bob was paranoid about someone tracing him. At first, he was worried about using Allison's cell, but then realized that all three of them had the cell and the other two were big, beefy guys who probably already had jail time. So he didn't worry as much, as he figured the police might be on their trail and might think of them as criminal runaways. He put the remains of the cell into the fire put and the license plates as well. This campsite was very isolated and nobody came this high this time of the year-very cold, windy and rainy. Bob slowly drove the vehicle to the cliff and put it in park. He then got out, left the driver door open and released the parking brake and slipped the gear to drive and jumped away. Bob put out the campfire and removed the remains of the phone and plate and tossed them over the cliff too. The car slowly slid and fell off deep into the ravine below, with a loud explosion. The rain would put it out and mask most of the noise. This spot was a few miles to the bus line and then another bus and he could get to the train station. He paid cash for all and reached CA.

Bob was now extremely nervous. He wondered if he should have just shot Olaf. But he wanted Olaf to suffer. He knew Gertrude's routine. Olaf worked odd hours and often got paid in cash. He was tired and usually it was Gertrude who made the deposits. She wouldn't dare take any money without asking him first. Gertrude usually made her deposits Wednesdays and then went shopping and Olaf had a big apartment account that he spent Wednesdays on. So for half a day, nobody would notice Gertrude gone. Bob also knew that the last few Wednesdays, Olaf had been spending it with his lover boy. Gertrude would make the deposit morning and come back and wait for her friend Bertha to pick her up. Bertha was a grotesque, obese woman with sharp, yellow, broken, pointy teeth but with a surprisingly friendly demeanor. Bertha was the only friend Gertrude was allowed to have. Bertha was very traditional and laughed at all of Olaf's jokes even if they were directed at her. She absolutely had no self worth-just the way Olaf liked it and she was married to the Sherriff's deputy. Bob was nervous, but had his plan in motion. Before those actions were spontaneous, so he had no time to think or at least his deeper self would take over and suppress the voices. But now he felt nervous and had an upset stomach. But he willed himself to get up and forced himself to concentrate and his stomach settled down. Bob drove Candace's car to Olaf's house. It was a few miles and he knew the way. Olaf lived in a home set deep in the woods. He finally reached there and saw Gertrude getting ready through the window. The door was open. Bob knocked and walked in. "Oh hi Bob, it's you" said Gertrude. "Oh hi Gertrude, Olaf said you were having computer problems?' said Bob. "Oh really I was just working on it and it seemed fine" Gertrude said. "Ok, I will just call Olaf and say that you said it was ok." Said Bob. "Oh no, no, silly me, sorry, what do I know, please don't call Olaf, just check for yourself" Gertrude said looking very nervous. Bob knew she was afraid of Olaf and was afraid that he would fly into one of his rages. The computer was not password protected. Olaf's spare tool kit lay in the exact same position as it always lay. Bob opened Gertrude's email with the new password, opened up the photos and opened them up. Then he turned to Gertrude. She was in the kitchen fixing up something for Bob. Bob took Olaf's hammer and walked over to Gertrude." Oh, Olaf just called, he wanted me to give you a ride for shopping-he wanted you to cook fresh salmon today." Bob said. "Salmon, oh ok, I guess he didn't want the old salmon I had in the freezer, uh ok lets go-they run out sometime" said Gertrude. Bob got into Gertrude's car and drove over to his house and asked Gertrude to come in as he had got some special meat pie. Gertrude came in and Bob whacked her on the head with a hammer with full force. Gertrude fell to the floor screaming, but Bob kept whacking and whacking until she lay still. Bob whacked some more and felt her pulse. She had none. Bob already had the ax and chopped her up. He liked Gertrude, but felt sorry for her and felt Gertrude would be happy to be free from Olaf. Bob cleaned his house meticulously and bleached everything and then went and took a bath. Spread the odor neutralizers and then opened up the windows. He was getting pretty good at this.

Bertha walked in calling for Gertrude. No answer. Her car was outside. Hmm, perhaps she was in the kitchen. She searched the house and the surrounding garden for half an hour. She thought of calling Olaf, but knew Gertrude would pay dearly if Olaf knew she had gone somewhere without permission. Well maybe she was late from the bank? But her car was there. Hmm, she looked at the Internet and decided she would surf the net and post on the numerous forums she was a member of. She opened the net and was shocked, there was Olaf kissing that strange boy that had accompanied him a few times. She dug some more and was mortified by the images she saw. Then she read the emails and realized Gertrude had found out. Bertha looked up and realized there was a hammer missing in the tool kit. Bertha panicked. Did Olaf kill her and if so would she be next, now that she had seen the images too? Bertha ran to her car and drove straight to the Sherriff station. She called 911 on the way and was put through and screamed about what she had seen and the missing Gertrude. Police came swarming in. Olaf was already under probation for a bar fight and a drug bust so they did not need a warrant. They rushed in and took the photos as evidence. Gertrude was declared missing and they looked at Olaf as the prime suspect. Bertha volunteered that Olaf's schedule was Wednesday at the complex-but he had left hours early. Bertha knew of Olaf's other property and that the boy stayed there, the police busted in and caught Olaf in the act. Olaf was taken in along with the other boy. Police also found a stash of marijuana and some prescription medication minus the prescriptions.

The whole rural community now knew Olaf's secret and people were enraged. Gossip grew like wildfire and Olaf had now become the two-headed monster who ate puppies and little kids for breakfast. Olaf's missing hammer mysteriously turned up in the apartment building he was at earlier that day. It had some brain matter and it was human brain matter. The police figured he must have dropped it while in a frenzy after the killing. The DNA came back as a match for Gertrude. Olaf denied killing his wife to the very end. But eventually he was convicted of murder and the drug charges. Olaf was never getting out. Despite his big size, Olaf had a multitude of ailments. Poor, abused Gertie took care of him and made his medications and balanced his diet despite being constantly abused. Olaf would have no such thing in prison and was now surrounded with men tougher than he was. Olaf was devastated.

But Bob had long since moved on to other things before the conviction. Bob relished this new power he had. He was afraid of tripping up and was afraid of being caught, but he enjoyed it. There was one more person who had caught his fancy now.

The Boss

Dealing with Olaf had changed everything for Bob. Until then, he had snapped and acted without deliberative thought. But with Olaf, he had become deliberative and very focused. He also enjoyed it and for the first time in his long life, felt like he had some power. He enjoyed humiliating Olaf and actually inflicting the mental torture on Olaf. He enjoyed this new sense of power. His mind started to drift to his firing. On hindsight, he realized that the company lied to him from the start. They had bought the foreign workers in and pretended it was to help them. This helped them to learn the process. The new lead of the company was from the consulting company. Perhaps he was chosen for this and this was the plan all along. He realized his anger at the Indians was misplaced-it was the top management's doing. That they did it when the company had made the most profit in its history rankled him even more.

Bob could not stop thinking and started to rage. That deep, dark force started to emerge. The events in the country were making him even angrier. How could this be happening, why were these greedy, filthy rich folks doing this to the country? Bob was now in a seething rage. He decided to take the bus and go walk in San Francisco. It was late in the evening and Bob enjoyed the Pier and had an early dinner. He enjoyed looking at the tourists and took a cable car ride up the hills. A sob rolled down his cheeks as he remembered his life. A family, a wonderful job, benefits – all gone down in flames. He thought of his kids and wondered if they would ever be able to move up the ladder like him? The only jobs he was getting was a clerk or a cashier or a waiter and only if he hid his real resume. When he started, people would inflate their resume and try to pad it up to make it look impressive. Now you had to dumb it down and make it look less impressive – what a joke thought Bob, and he laughed. Bob walked aimlessly. Then he found his way to his former company. At first he was embarrassed, then he realized that no one he knew worked there and all had been fired. Maybe he might run into his replacement, that he helped train. Bob went to the coffee shop and bought his favorite drink. Bob sat there and remembered about the decades he had worked here. The friends he had, their families, the stories. Another tear welled in Bob's eye and his mind slowly went to the murders- Bob was about to break down crying about what had happened to him and what he had become –when out of the corner of his eye, he saw the big boss. This was the man responsible for firing everybody. This was the man who single handedly decimated so many families and shattered the dreams of so many, all so he could get a bigger bonus. It was not right, that he was walking around so freely, so happily, without a care in the world. It was not right.

Karl M. Higgins walked to the BART station and was unaware he was being watched. Karl lived in the East Bay in a huge estate. Driving into the city and parking was horrendous and he took the train –the Bay Area Rapid Transit system. It was convenient. It was just a few short blocks from his office and when he reached his home station, he had a chauffeured car waiting for him. Much quicker and more convenient this way. Karl had started his life in Georgia as a salesperson and slowly worked his way up. He then moved into software sales and became very good at it. He was blessed with a gift of the gab and took a technical person along for presentations. He was always close to the top in sales. Slowly he shifted into management and moved up to executive positions. A self made man, he expected everyone to be responsible for themselves. Karl was a pit-bull. He never took no for an answer. He was married three times, was an extreme go-getter. For all his success, he was a very simple minded man. Go for the jugular and achieve your goal, no matter the consequences-no matter who or what gets in the way. He was your typical alpha personality –but much more driven. As he climbed the executive ranks, he took part in many acquisitions, many mergers and was a very results oriented, goal oriented person with absolutely no moral scruples to stop him.

Karl got an offer to join this company. The company had been doing great, but they really wanted to lower cost. Unlike growth companies with new products, they could not match the quarter-to-quarter growth rate in profit and sales that the new companies mustered. They were big, profitable, had an excellent balance sheet and could weather any storm as they had a ton of cash reserves. Until the owner/Chairman of the board/founder was alive, it was run very conservatively. They did not go on hiring binges, massive unwanted acquisitions, just a plain old well run company. In today's world, Wall Street did not like that. Every quarter had to be bigger and better than the past –does not matter how you did it or how much debt you racked up. The stock prices were very modest and did not go up much. The founder died and the heirs were not interested in the day-to-day business-just being part of the social scene with all their money. The management now was filled with typical blood thirsty corporate types, who knew they would be in the top positions for only a few years and so had to make as much money as possible, before being kicked out. They also had to show that they did a good job, so they could get their next gig. It was just a game to them. They did not care about the company, the employees, just how much money they can make and how quickly before moving on their next gig.

Karl was the perfect candidate. He was a hard charging type, who had experience in software and breaking up companies. He got hired to cut the workforce cost by half. This would surprise Wall Street and increase profits and therefore make their stock options more valuable and make them eligible for bigger bonuses. Karl was an old hand at this and had amassed a massive fortune. He had worked from the other side of the bargain- he had been the ones convincing the other companies to offshore to the company he worked for. This would be a breeze for him and the amount of stock options and other perks he was getting were obscene. Karl loved a challenge. Karl was always single minded. Never did worry about the repercussions of his actions, about whether the city or town or the fired folks would be seriously affected. That was their problem; he had extreme focus and cared only about himself. This made him very successful. In third world countries, people like him had to live in constant fear from the affected masses, but in America nobody begrudged him or even pointed out his role. In fact everybody pointed to the likes of him as the cure to our ills. Karl chuckled sometimes thinking about that. But he was not a deep thinker or a great student. His strength was to plow through anything and anyone and that seemed to be a very valuable asset in the corporate world. He never did have a conscience.

Karl usually timed his departure to reach the station a few minutes before the train. They were numerous, but he didn't like to wait with the normal people. But if he didn't take the train, that would add another hour or more to his commute in stop and go traffic and he hated that. Bob followed him. Bob was getting more and more enraged. How could this sort of animal be walking so freely in the streets after decimating so many lives? This sort of creature should be hiding behind a detail of security guards, afraid for his life at every corner. He couldn't contain his rage. He had not brought his shotgun with him and did not have a weapon of any sort. But was extremely angry. The sight of Karl walking along happily with not a care in the world infuriated him no end. This was not fair. This could not be. Karl was now getting close to the BART station and Bob realized he did not have a ticket. He rushed to the ticket machine and slid a 20-dollar bill in and got the ticket. Bob could still see Karl, but he was getting on the escalator downwards. Bob started walking fast as he saw Karl disappear. Bob's heart started pumping faster. He did not know why he was following Karl, just that he had to. Fury and rage consumed him and he suddenly remembered a movie where he had seen the assailants following others and pushing passersby out of the way. He could feel that energy; the adrenalin was rushing through him. Bob rushed down and he searched the crowded platform. He couldn't find Karl anywhere. He searched harder and a train pulled into one of the platforms. Bob looked all over and in the third car from him, he could see Karl getting in. Bob got in and slowly made his way to Karl. Karl did not recognize him, of course he did not. He didn't care about the little people.

Bob had a smirk in his face. He felt happy. Karl got his laptop out and his earphones and started working. Bob looked on from a distance. Karl was so engrossed in his work that he barely seemed to notice anybody else. This seemed to be some sort of unspoken code, people shutting down and refusing to acknowledge their fellow humans. "How did this system develop?" Bob wondered. Why do so many people ignore each other and pretend like the other is not there? Bob's attention was brought back to Karl and he kept staring at him. He didn't know what he was doing, why he was doing it, but he just knew he had to follow Karl. Bob looked coldly at Karl. He just couldn't fathom how such an evil man like Karl who had decimated so many lives could walk around so nonchalantly like he was the nicest person in the world. Bob's life flashed in his mind, his childhood, his marriage, his kids, his career. He could not figure out what he did wrong. How could it have turned so bad? He was still willing to work, but there were no jobs left, thanks to people like Karl. He probably was living in some gated paradise with tennis courts and help and was probably being held up in social circles as some utopian ideal of an American. Bob's fury erupted, but he was able to hold the rage at bay.

Karl was totally oblivious to the predatory interest Bob was showing him. He was never the sensitive type and did what he chose to do. Bigger considerations were never his concern. Just get the job done and on to the next job –almost like a mob hit man. Karl was catching up on his personal emails. His second wife and two kids were in New York and this third wife already had two kids and they weren't expecting any more. Both were in their fifties. Karl enjoyed his life and was a no nonsense guy who had no patience for sentimental, emotional fools. Karl enjoyed this job. The process had gone much smoother than he thought; perhaps because he was already experienced on the other side and now he had control on both sides of the equation. His superior bosses, the new Chairman was very happy and had offered him a huge bonus as well as the stock options. He had only done half the layoffs –they planned to milk this over two or maybe three years, so Wall Street would look at their continually increasing profits and the stock would increase. Then they could sell the stocks and make a ton of money. That was all that concerned him. Karl never thought of the people who he fired and got rid of. He never thought of the country or the city or his fellow humans. He was a rather simple man with some extravagant needs and really enjoyed his job.

Bob watched with a cold detachment now. He had strangely become silent. Soon several stations passed and Bob got a seat. He never left his gaze and stared down Karl. Karl was totally oblivious to the unwanted attention. Karl started to pack his laptop and removed his headphones. Bob realized Karl might be getting ready to exit. Bob waited and watched Karl. Karl stood up and went towards the exit. The train came to a stop and Karl exited, followed by Bob. Karl still was totally unaware and continued with his normal routine. Karl's chauffeured car was waiting right at the entrance. He usually made a call about half an hour in advance and they were there. Karl was getting in the car and Bob stood there looking. Bob realized he didn't have a pen and paper and moved to the back of the car, so he could memorize the license plate. Then he realized he had his cell phone and took it out and snapped a picture. He checked the picture and realized he got the number. He still was getting used to all this new technology, but he was getting the hang of it. He decided to head back home.

Bob was different now. He was no longer just a bunch of raging emotions and feelings and thought patterns all trying to exert control of him. It looked like the old Bob had lost his battle, as that part of him had no argument to offer. Apart from his belief in the world functioning in a certain way, there were religious beliefs that had helped hold down the masses for centuries. Such beliefs that you may get into a good afterlife for good deeds and such. That way, if something bad happened to you in life, you could still believe the afterlife would be good for good people. But with all the scandals of the churches and so many religious folks of all religions getting caught for all manner of improprieties, Bob couldn't believe any of those beliefs either. He only had some deep instincts and strange thought patterns that took over in the absence of a credible belief system of how life worked. He couldn't make sense of life and couldn't adhere to any belief anymore and so strange new things took over him and he functioned from primal forces. He felt he could relate to the primitive tribal people much more than the civilized folks. "Perhaps this is how civilizations collapsed, when the common thread binding them together does not make sense anymore and the savages come riding in and force the collapse of a giant civilization in stunning speed and fashion?" Bob pondered. He felt like that, like the thread holding him to society had collapsed and strange, raw unknown forces were taking him over. But he really enjoyed this, it made him feel alive, like an animal, like a fire breathing dragon. He licked his lips at the thought of the confident Karl, strutting around like a lion in front of deer. He became even more furious at the thought of the cold, arrogant Karl and was slowly reaching a boiling point.

Three people got into the train at the next station, which was empty on the way back. The three were talking about the shooting that had happened a few days back. They were flabbergasted that the gangs would be so bold as to shoot four men in the street. They were terrified and were really worried. "It must be the Mexicans", one of them chimed in. Bob was diverted by them. People and their thought process bemused bob. If they only knew it was him that killed the four. Bob remembered at how he had killed them and this surprised even him. He never knew he had it in him and was transfixed by the images of the man pleading for his life. Bob did not feel any guilt at all; it was like he was watching a movie in his head. Bob dozed off and woke up on the other side of the tunnel. He realized he had overslept and had gone past his station. He got off and caught a train going the other way and got off on his station. Bob rushed to the bus, there were far fewer buses the later it got and they stopped completely at night. He ran to the bus and boarded it just as it was about to depart. Bob sat in his seat and silently watched the world go by. It was always fun going across the Golden Gate bridge and Bob never got tired of the views. Bob dozed off and woke up one stop before his. He felt lucky; there were not too many buses at this hour to take him back. He arrived home late and wrote down the license plate number from the photo. He still had two meat pies and ate both of them. They were delicious.

Bob woke up late next morning with a slight headache. He slowly came into consciousness and realized what he did last night and was fuming. The thought of Karl made him rage with fury. But he calmed himself down. It seems his rational mind was now latching onto the new persona. The mind that was suppressing all those instinctual rages had joined forces with instinct and was adding its insights into the mix. Bob was beginning to reintegrate and was becoming a truly frightful creature. Bob couldn't find any way to find the car or the address to match the plate. Perhaps the DMV only shared it with police? Bob didn't know what to do now. Then he hit upon an idea.

Bob was back in San Francisco at about the same time and waited in the shop and kept watch at the street. Karl passed by at the same time. Bob followed and he did this for the next few days. He realized Karl must be punctual. Bob then drove and parked his car at the BART station Karl got off at. He followed Karl's car and waited for Karl to come by. Sure enough Karl did and he followed. Bob took care not to follow too closely; he didn't want them to suspect anything. He could always come back the next day. Karl lived somewhat close to the station. It was a beautiful gated mansion. The gates closed and Bob drove on and parked a short distance ahead. Bob was feeling extremely nervous and he felt his bowels move –he had to go to a restroom. Bob noticed a park nearby, with a portable toilet. Bob rushed there and used it and relaxed and took his time. Bob stepped out of the vehicle and sat at the park for a while. He could see Karl's house from there and decided to walk towards it. The park was opposite to Karl's house, although the entrance was some distance off. It was a big park with hills and mountain lion warnings posted at the entrance. There were cows and he even saw a deer in the distance. There was a hill right in front of Karl's house and Bob decided to climb the hill to get a better view beyond the gates. Bob was about to climb, when the small gate for humans in Karl's mansion opened and out came Karl in jogging attire.

Karl came straight towards Bob. Bob was caught unawares and did not know what to do. Karl slid through the fence and jogged past Bob-no smile, no acknowledgement- just his earphones on and jogging away. "Of course why would this scum stop to smile at someone and bother taking the entrance-these scum always take the short cuts?" thought Bob. Bob's fury raged at this perceived slight, but now his rational mind chimed," This is the leader of a powerful corporation and with very powerful friends, you should be careful". Bob was back in control, but his fury grew. He noted the house number and the street number and emailed it to himself from his phone. Bob was fuming and thought he would run Karl over, but he cooled and drove off with steely resolve. He reached home late at night. He had run out of meat pies and so took out the last bits of Gertrude and thawed the meat and began to grind it. Bob was still angry for some reason, but then suddenly he smiled. A plan of action rushed to his mind and he went about cooking the meat and making more meat pies. Bob ate and stored the rest in the fridge and went to sleep.

He woke up late again the next day. He took some of the meat pies out and heated them and took them over to Ethel. Jose came by and they had their meat pies and Jose helped himself to the liquor. Everybody loved the pies and badgered Bob for the recipes. Bob smiled and Ethel launched into one of her usual tales. Bob felt strangely happy and contented. Jose excused himself and left half drunk and Bob left a short while later.

Bob drove to the park a couple of times and hiked a lot. He came to know of the ranger's schedule and the trails and Karl's house. Karl had quite a few helpers in his house that had tennis courts, stables, horses and so he couldn't risk going there. The park itself had horse riders, bicyclists, hikers, joggers and cows too. He didn't expect to find cows in a public park, but there they were, peacefully grazing about. Bob wondered what it would be like to be a cow? No mental restraints, no mental cages-everything was real and physical to them. No cow in some remote corner of the world becoming a leader and ordering around millions of cows and deciding their fates. What a blessed life. Interesting, Bob thought that humans had advanced so much and yet animals seemed almost more sensible and real. We have almost become a virtual society, where we function from ideas and beliefs and not what is in front of us. Bob was deeply engrossed in his thoughts, when he noticed suddenly jumped out of his skin. A horse had come across the bend, seen Bob sitting on the sidelines, spooked and leapt away in fear and dumped its rider. Upon seeing that this strange creature sitting on the sidelines was a human, the horse calmed down and stood still. Bob helped the owner up and they smiled and exchanged pleasantries. The rider got back on and left and Bob was now alone again. Bob was now amazed at the horse, its reaction and its sudden calming upon realizing the strange thing crouched on the ground was just a human. Bob yearned for something real in his life-something not made of other people's belief, but like that horse acting on what is there in the moment.

By now Bob knew the park well enough and he also knew Karl's schedule exceedingly well. He decided to wait two months to when it would get dark earlier. The park started to empty earlier. Karl didn't care about darkness and kept to his schedule. Bob was just amazed that men like Karl could still roam around freely without a thought in their minds. Not much longer if he had anything to do about it.

Karl came to his usual jog and as usual was totally focused on himself. He carried pepper spray just in case he encountered any wild animals. But most wild animals could sense a human a long way away and kept away. He usually did a quick jog up the hill and back during the dark, it was mountain lion area and he didn't want to stay out too late in the dark. Bob was crouching in the bushes, but tripped and braced against a branch and broke it. Karl did not notice at all. He had his music selection on and was blissfully oblivious. Bob couldn't believe how dense Karl was in a semi wild environment-ah most humans! Bob knew Karl's path and today he was prepared. He had brought the other car that he still had to get rid of. He was ready. Karl circled back and was about to turn back to his home. Bob knew the point and was already waiting on the path home at a fork in the path that was very bushy and had a lot of tall trees and couldn't be seen from anywhere. One path in the fork led back to Karl's home and the other to the parking lot. He already scanned the parking lot and knew no one was there and before Karl turned, he knew no one was uphill there.

Bob waited. Karl jogged past Bob, oblivious to the world. Bob stepped out of the bush with a huge metal rod in his hand and hit Karl's leg right at the knee area, in the back as hard as he could and then he disappeared into the bush again. He had his gun with him, but didn't know what weapons Karl carried.

Karl buckled and fell and screamed in utter anguish. Bob felt tremendous feelings surge through him-to see this man lying there helplessly and in utter pain. Now he would know the meaning of desperation and utter hopelessness. Unbelievable pain shot up through his leg and Karl screamed as loud as he could. He knew something had hit him, but he couldn't see what it was. He had seen a shadow move into the bushes. This area had mountain lions and there had been rumors of a bear –perhaps one of those had got him? Or maybe a mugger-but this area had none-those were in the city, not here. The pain got worse and Karl saw something move in the bush and he got his pepper ready. Bob realized it was pepper spray and laughed. He was worried Karl might be carrying some other weapon. Bob scurried around the bushes and Karl didn't feel the pain anymore as some primal survival instinct took over. He was pretty sure that the who or what attacked him was in the bushes. But he did not know what and he suddenly realized he had a bad foreboding all day-he rarely paid attention to that though. "Who's there?" screamed Karl? There was no answer and Karl wondered if it could be an animal. His mind was not thinking straight and he was confused and the pain started again. Karl leaned forward to feel the back of his knee and the pain started again. Bob used this to sneak out of the bushes and as hard as he could hit the arm holding the pepper spray and ran back into the bushes. Karl screamed in utter agony. He had broken bones and the pain was intolerable and he screamed in terror. Now he realized it was a person, a man. He had never heard of something like this happening-maybe women being raped. Karl wondered if this was a psycho or maybe some teenage prank? He had watched TV and just heard about some teenage kids beating a homeless man to death-maybe this was something similar? The pain was shooting up like a volcano and Karl was getting close to passing out. He was crying and screaming at the same time. Bob found himself in heaven. This strange scene was having all sorts of effects on him and he was enjoying watching Karl suffer. Karl the great, confident man was now a sobbing, crawling, helpless mess and screaming for help. Bob could not describe the strange effect it had on him, but it was arousing him on so many levels. This was better than anything he had experienced.

Karl passed out. Bob could see that the pepper spray bottle had rolled over. Bob poured the chloroform on to a towel and covered Karl's nose and then dragged him a few feet into the bushes. Then he tied his arms and legs up. Bob rushed back to his car. It took about 5 min downhill to get to his car. The fork was closer to the parking lot, but was in the middle of nowhere. Karl could see for miles from the top of the hill and this was the perfect ambush spot. It was a few miles from there to Karl's house. Bob opened the gate over the cattle guard and drove his car into the trails-it was a fire trail-wide enough for fire trucks. Bob knew the ranger would not be there for another hour to come lock the gate. At this time, he had seen nobody. It was already dark and people usually did not want to be out at dark. Bob drove up to where Karl lay and turned the lights off. He was cautious and stepped out guns drawn. Karl lay there moaning slowly-he looked unconscious, but Bob put some more chloroform just in case. He then tied another rope around Karl's torso and dragged him into the trunk. Bob backed the vehicle up a little and turned the lights on. He cleaned up as best as he could and then backed down, turned around, closed the gate and took off. Bob knew they would look for Karl, as he was very high profile and had a lot of money. They may even bring hound dogs for smell as he was last seen jogging. They would really search for someone of Karl's stature and not let it go easy as the prostitutes or gang members. Bob had worn gloves, got the metal rod back and cleaned up as best as he could. This was a big park and over the months, Karl had always jogged alone, so nobody else knew where he jogged- except for the fact that it was in the park. Bob was very careful and meticulous in his planning. He had thought of shooting him, but he wanted to cause him pain, lots of pain and fear and despair and he was going to do it.

The drive home was rather uneventful. Bob had checked Karl for any weapons and he had none. Bob laughed-such confidence and arrogance. Bob soon reached home and was ready with more chloroform, but he was barely stirring. Bob had covered his mouth. Bob put some more chloroform just in case and then using the rope dragged him out of the truck on to a wheelbarrow. Bob then pushed and shoved it up the pathway in the back and dropped him in the storage room in the back. Bob had cleaned out the storage room and there was a special metal beam there that Bob tied Karl up to. Bob went out and parked the car in his hiding spot. He came back and gagged Karl and made sure the knots were all right. He tied several ropes and tied his torso, arms and legs separately. Bob went back to sleep.

Karl woke up the next morning with searing pain, unable to move and in total darkness. He let out a scream, but realized he was gagged. He tried to struggle, but the ropes merely bruised him. Karl started crying and tears flowed down his cheek. He was rocking back and forth and then suddenly he thought this was about money. The kidnappers just wanted money and would release him for it. He was sure of it now and he calmed down. The pain was still awful, but he had his hopes up. A few hours passed and Bob woke up. He was very happy.

He scanned the news channels and online papers. Nothing yet-perhaps one has to wait a day to file a missing person's report? Bob laughed and wondered what he would do to Karl. He waited another hour for Jose to come by, do his chores and leave, then he would have the place all to himself. Jose left half drunk as usual. Bob went back to sleep and woke up a few hours later. He suddenly remembered Karl and like a child wanting to play with his toy, ran up. He opened the door and peeked inside and there was Karl all tied up. Karl's eyes strangely had a mix of fear and an eagerness to talk like he was happy to see him. Bob was puzzled. Bob checked the ropes again and then removed the towel from his mouth. "Listen, I will give you money, any amount of money, just let me go" Karl said. Aah he was trying to make a sales pitch-poor Karl still convinced he could make a deal to get out. Bob laughed-money? "You gonna give me money, so they can trace it and find out it is me? Said Bob. "No, no it is an offshore account; nobody knows about it, there's 5 million in it. I had the offshore company I work with deposit it for me there. Take it and then anymore money, I will negotiate for you with the company-just let me go." Karl said, with the utmost confidence as if he was just negotiating a business deal. Karl was always like that and believed there was a price for anyone and anything. Bob was intrigued and just amazed that Karl did not realize how much danger he was in. He marveled at the mind at how quickly it could slip from panic to calm based on beliefs. Bob thought about the offshore account and was very nervous, but Karl gave him the account and pass code –he knew it by heart as he had just deposited it. Karl also showed him how to start his own offshore account that nobody could find out about and how to transfer it there. Bob was intrigued, but suspicious. "Take that money, it is peanuts for me. Then call my company-they will pay you way more than that." As part of an international project he had worked on, he had started an offshore bank account and knew how that worked. But this was more like a secret no questions asked account, the kind you hid drug money or slush funds. Bob wondered how many executives had accounts like this. For this money, his entire workforce was sacked –Bob grew more furious. "You have him, take the money and then do what you want with him," said an inner voice. Bob thought about it and then decided why not. He gave Karl some water to drink and a meat pie and then some more water then put the gag on and left.

He drove 200 miles south to a public library deep in central California. He used the Internet there and connected to the bank and was stunned to find that the money was there. Bob started his own account and then had them transfer the money there. It took two days for the whole thing. Bob fed and let Karl drink, but refused to untie him and Karl had to go on himself in his clothes. The room was starting to stink. Bob knew he had the money and even withdrew 20,000 just for kicks. He was very careful, as the word was now out that Karl was missing and people were missing. Bob withdrew the rest of the money and brought it home. He was ecstatic. Karl was now tied up for a week and the smell was nauseating. Karl begged Bob to let go. But Bob was secretly enjoying this. Humiliating this monster was worth more than all the money in the world. Karl was now beginning to lose hope. At some level, he realized this was not about money and Karl was terrified. He didn't know what to do and the pain was becoming worse and he was becoming delirious. He realized this was something else. Bob finally told him who he was and he told him the names of all the employees he had fired. Karl was scared now and Bob enjoyed this. Karl was now going through what Bob had faced-his mental belief system was collapsing. He functioned from a belief that you are always in control and that there is a price for everything and that when something bad happened to someone, it was their fault; they had to pull themselves and go on. Something bad had happened to him and Karl could not do anything, all his money was worthless, all his negotiating skill and his savvy were worthless and he was at the mercy of this hideous mousey half bald fool. Karl was having a nervous breakdown and his mind started to splinter.

Bob decide to have some fun and came in with a hammer and broke Karl's other knee. Karl screamed and screamed and offered more money and then begged for forgiveness and said everything he could think of. Bob smiled and broke Karl's other hand. Karl screamed agonizingly and realized it was hopeless. Bob then cut his leg off and made meat pies out of it and fed Karl his own meat. Karl was too far-gone and was convulsing. His body was going into deep shock and his consciousness faded. He still was struggling of thinking of something to negotiate with this maniac, but alas he couldn't. Karl was giving up as he never had. Bob watched in glee. He was overcome with joy and finally put Karl out of his misery.

Nobody had found what had happened to Karl and his wife was in the process of declaring him dead so she could get the insurance money and other assets. Many had thought she had done it, as she would have gotten a pittance with the prenup. But that was just speculation.

Ethel loved the meat pies. "This one is different, tastes like range fed cows-this is how it tastes when cows get to move about and get their exercise "said Ethel while chomping down on Karl.

Bob grinned. He had a few million in cash and he finally found a purpose in his life and he felt good about himself. Suddenly the image of his ex Stacy's mom crossed his mind and Bob grinned and wondered how her meat would taste??!!
