Quest for the Silver Smelt
an excerpt

The video flickered for a moment, then steadied. On the screen was a young blonde woman in glasses, her blue eyes gazing intently into the lense. She had her hair pulled back into a tight pony tail, and wore no makeup. Her clothing was utilitarian and not especially feminine. The expression on her face was at once stern and avid. When she smiled her chilling smile, her canine teeth showed almost fang-like. Then she began to speak in the most matter of fact tone, with an inescapable edge of condescension, as though she knew from the start that few people if any, would actually be able to comprehend what she was about to expound.

“I,” she stated baldly, “am the killer the police are seeking. The car found on top of the parking garage was stolen by me for the simple reason that the particular make and model has some of the best trunk space available on the market today. I saw absolutely no reason why I should be forced to leave out some of my trophies when I set up my little presentation for the police, the media, and for the public.

“I was certainly not,” she added almost as an aside, “going to keep that stuff around to start stinking up my house. I’m not really that attached to useless stuff. I only kept a few pieces for the sake of illustrating my point. Which is, of course, what this tape it about. My point, I mean.”

“Basically,” she continued, her tone becoming almost that of a lecturer, “People suck. And not in a good way. Men, especially, but women too. People are annoying, aggrevating, senseless, rude, stupid and irritating, and they really have a bad tendency to get in the way and mess stuff up. As a whole, I believe it is safe to say that I find them all to be the progeny of a bleeding, vermin infested whore. Or, as presumably not all the people in the world were birthed by a single whore, I should say the progeny of bleeding, vermin infested whores.” She bore down hard on the final ‘ess’. “I probably really don’t have that much of a problem with most people being that way, but I’m really getting sick and tired of the ones that get in my way, specifically. So I’ve decided it’s about time to clear out some of the trash. I guess you could call all of this a form of public service, but what the hell, the public never did me any service, so why should I do any for the public, right?

“I’m not trying to set up any sort of yard stick for when someone has earned the right to be murdered and dismembered. I figure pretty much everybody has earned the right, already. So anybody that pisses me off becomes an instant candidate.”

She tossed her head and glared at the camera. “Motive, means and opportunity? Shit, you all have given me motive. I’ve got lots and lots of means at my disposal; probably some means none of you have ever thought of. So all it takes is a little opportunity, and bam!” she smacked her fist into the opposite palm. “I take out another waste of space.”

“So, if you people don’t start being a whole lot less annoying, I’m warning you now, I’m going to take my medication again,” she held up a pill bottle and shook it at the camera. “And when I do, by all the forgotten gods, the ancient, festering necrotic gods of the underworld, some more of you losers are going to die. And be violently dismembered. And left for the public to enjoy.” She grinned evilly at the camera, her blue eyes suddenly crossed, and the screen went blank.

This was followed by the voice of the news anchor over a close-up of the pill bottle that the maniacal killer had shown to the camera.

“We are informed by our sources that the drug ‘Hyoscyamine’, which is what the label of this pill bottle lists, is a derivative of the deadly nightshade belladonna. Sometimes prescribed to treat severe abdominal cramping, Hyoscyamine has been known to cause psychotic episodes in people who are susceptible.”

Just then the screen flickered again and the blonde, blue eyed woman appeared again. “Anthony Hopkins playing Hannibal Lector is so fucking hot, I would totally hit that. He would have to be in character, but I’d totally hit that.”

The scene switched to the rear bumper of a car, with the license plate blacked out, but a bumper sticker clearly legible, one which read “Practice senseless acts of randomness and spiteful retribution.”