I SAID read the paper before you keep reading this! How are you supposed to know what is happening if you don’t read the fucking paper? Fuck, people are so annoying. Now do you see why I kill them? Just click the damn link and read the articles.

Ok, thats better.

Tricky’s email was impossible for Aaron to hack into thanks to the Feds and their good advice, but her boyfriend’s wasn’t. I have been able to read all his emails for about three weeks now. Thanks, Aaron. Good job. Sorry you got shot in the ass, but at least you didn’t pussy out.

The day after I cut her sister apart Tricky sneaked onto her laptop and sent her man an email. What 22 year old girl wouldn’t? She asked him to broadcast the funeral for her, which I thought was a bit morbid but whatever, and right away I knew I had her. Aaron assured me that he could trace the streaming video broadcast to her location, and five minutes after the service began he pulled the address up on the computer straight from the internet service provider. I am sure if the Feds knew what she was up to they would have advised her against it or at least made sure the connection was secure, but she never mentioned it. She probably should have, but its much too late for that now.

I was sure to leave enough evidence for the FBI to convince them I left the country, and a few hours after they had Aaron in custody Tricky Vixen was making plans to come home. Unfortunately for her I was already there.

I had never been to Omaha before, but the good people at My Omaha Area Portal,www.moap.us ,made it pretty easy to get around. Where would I be without the internet? It’s a stalkers dream come true. I knew every local bar, every music studio, every twenty-something hangout. I had people giving me directions and letting me know where there was road construction taking place. Everyone sure is nice in Omaha. Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it.

I knew where her parents lived and I parked a ways down the street last night. People went in and out of her place all night, no doubt covering her with hugs and kisses and asking a million questions about her terrible ordeal. After all the lights went out and everyone was asleep I headed back to my motel room and got some rest myself. I was sure to be back out there bright and early before the neighborhood woke up, though, and watched from my car as a few more friends and family members stopped by her house to show their love. Eventually they all left and Tricky headed out on her own, probably for the first time in a month, and I was right there behind her.

I knew from reading her boyfriends emails that he had a show tomorrow night and the band needed to rehearse. She was excited to see them all again after being away for a month and had no problem hanging out at the rehearsal studio all day, so she agreed to meet her boyfriend there. She parked in the lot behind the studio and I circled the block, waiting till she was inside to park on the other side of the narrow street. She came out a few times for a cigarette, but always with groups of people. The one time she came out with only her boyfriend I grabbed my camera and started filming, hoping for an opportunity to make my introduction. I figured I would only get to watch them, but when he lit her cigarette and walked away I made my move immediately. Shitty time to run out of cigarettes, but sometimes life is like that.

Go ahead and watch what happened. This was typed up and scheduled to post hours ago. I am already gone. Those of you that know how to get a hold of me, stay in touch. Those that don’t, see you next time.

Just so you know, I let her go afterwards. I promised I would make her tell the world I was real, but I also said I wouldn’t kill my readers. Pretty hard to build a fan base when they end up with their intestines on the floor. Sure I went to extremes to prove a point, but what else am I going to do, play Sudoku?

If she fucks with me again, I wont be so generous. She should be too busy with therapy for the next ten years to have any time for me, though.

Hey Spunion, fuck you. I told you the devil wanted to meet you? That you could text him? Was this before or after you asked me to kill your parents? You want to stab me in the back? I wield knives for a living, you fucking tweak.

Hey Mr FBI guys, check the records at zipzombie5@yahoo.com. Thats where Spunion and I worked out all the details of our little arrangement. I am sure you haven’t seen it yet since you are treating him like a victim instead of the piece of shit that he is.

Mr Cohort lost his kids due to a really nasty meth habit, and the child support was going to put a dent in his partying. He chose to get his inheritance early as opposed to getting a second job, and thats where I came in. I knew the little fuck couldn’t be trusted but I thought he was a little smarter than he proved to be.

People do crazy things when they don’t sleep for a week. Speed is pretty cheap, though, so I never expected him to go through 7 grand in a couple of days.

I don’t need him, or the money. I am still a few moves ahead and this should be wrapped up soon.

Time to show my hand.

Second Deadjournal Accomplice Surrenders To Authorities, click here for full report!

They are calling me the “Deadjournal Killer”. I like it. I could have come up with something better, but it works.

Without Stang it just got a lot harder to post, but dont you worry. I still have a few tricks left up my sleeve. I have plenty of ways of logging on here.

I need to clarify something, too. Tricky’s sisters name is Jenivive. Not Jodie. I can’t tell you right now why the name was changed, but lets just say some little shithead got his priorities all fucked up.

Hey Spunion, you better pray the FEDs find you first, you little submissive bitch. You just fucked with the wrong guy

I found Tricky’s Myspace last week and checked out all her friends. Her sister has a Myspace, too (who doesnt?) and it was filled with all kinds of details. Every few days she would blog about her adventures at the heavy metal bar in her area, one crazy story after another. This chick was a party girl. There was the town she lived in, right there next to her picture. The name of her High School was there, showing what district she lived in. Her top friends were all in the same area, all of them going to the same club on the weekends, all of them wild party girls and guys. After reading six of their Myspaces as well, I had enough pieces to put together and pretty much knew how this girl spent her day. The occupation listed on Tricky’s sister’s profile was “Wet Seal”, which I thought was a joke at first. I did some digging, though, and found that the local mall had one of the clothing stores there. When I called to see if she was working nobody answered, though, which I thought was odd. I dug a little deeper and found that the mall was closed for renovations due to a busted water main. That gave me an idea.

That blog I posted, the one saying I was at the Elks County Mall, that is what you call a rouse. I knew it was closed, and I knew when the cops read that post I would look inept. I would look like a liar, which would make me look like less of a threat. I lost a bit of credibility, which is just what I wanted. I know I didnt come off the FBI’s “wanted” list or anything, I was still too much of a threat, but they probably relaxed enough to blink for a second and thats all I needed.

Jodie, Tricky’s sister, always listed her number in the status message. I bought a cheap throwaway phone and sent her a text saying “Sux th mall opens tmrw. Back 2 wrk. U goin 2 da club 2nite?”.

She responded back with “whos this?” and I texted back good and fast like the kiddies these days

“Its jake. U met me lst weekend. I work at hot topic in the mall with you, remember? Kate’s friend? Its cool lol whatever.”

With her number on myspace, I am sure she is used to random texts. Probably loves random texts. Enjoys random texts. Why else post your digits? She wrote back saying “oh sure. hi. Yeah I am gong tonight. U?”

Hell yeah I was going.

I didnt reply, though. I spent the day checking out the area surrounding the club; where the doors were, how many people would fit, what type of people would be passing by randomly, different routes to get out of town. Once I knew the layout distinctly I went to see a movie and waited for the night to wake up. By the time I got out, the club was half full with people having a good time and the other half was outside smoking cigarettes and getting fresh air. It was pretty busy outdoors thanks to the smoking bans so popular nowadays, but most of the people went out front where it was lit up and traffic was driving by. The back was reserved for the types that prefer the alleyways and darker corners, and it was here that I parked my car. I stepped off to the side where the large hv/ac unit was and pulled out the phone I had purchased earlier. I sent Jodie another text, this time being a bit more forward.

“Me again. Come out back and smoke with me. You will recognize me when you see me. You stared at me long enough when we met I dont know how you could forget me.”

I knew she would react to this. She was definitely not the type that would let a guy think she was sweating him. She was much more used to guys chasing her. The door came swinging open a minute later and she looked around the parking lot, trying to see who this guy was that was so full of himself. It was me, of course, and a whack across the back of the head with an asp baton dropped her to the ground. First, the cuffs, and into the trunk of my car she went. We were gone before anyone saw what happened.

I had a little hideout waiting thanks to a retired couple foolish enough to let their papers and mail pile up at their door. They may as well have posted a sign in their front yard saying “ON VACATION. ROB US”. Dog kennels in the backyard were empty, the car in the driveway had a cover on it. There was a security alarm to bypass, but thats not much of a problem if you know a thing or two. As long as there are no motion sensors, all I have to do is be sure not to break any of the connections. Doors and windows may not work, but what about a ladder, a tool belt, and a bundle of shingles? Spend a day working on a roof and the neighbors will ask you for a business card, not call the police. A few days ago I made a nice hole in the roof where I could slip in later. I was able to finish without anyone asking any questions at all, but I was prepared with a story and a business card just in case. I came back in the middle of the night, dropped through the hole, and have been living here for the last few days. Really nice digs, too. I was able to remove all of the basement door from the inside, along with the trim around it, thus keeping the alarm connection in tact and not triggering it. I leaned it in place in case someone could see onto the property, but the yards are really big and the nearest neighbor would have to be on this property to see that far. It did cause one hell of a draft, though. Who cares, I dont pay the heating bill.

I pulled up to the place and hoped Jodie didnt make a scene. If she did I would have to get things done real fast, but she had answers and I had questions that were going to be traded no matter what so I grabbed her hair and pulled her out of the trunk. Her hands were cuffed, so to save time I lifted her and put her back down on her feet. I fully expected her to scream and yell and try to run, but she didnt. She basically just let me walk her in. She stood there quietly as I moved the door out of the way and she walked in the house without me having to tell her to. She didnt even look around for help. I got a bit spooked by this, thinking the Feds were guaranteeing a conviction by catching me in the act or hoping for an opportunity to shoot me legally. I smelled nothing in the air, though, and we entered the place together. I had no time for unimportant questions so I didnt bother to ask why she wasnt trembling and crying. I knew the tears would come soon enough.

We got to the bathroom and I shoved her face first into the tub. Her head hit the wall hard, not having her hands free to break the fall. She yelled out in pain, but she still remained calm. She tried to turn over and say something to me, and at this point I had enough of her lack of fear and show of strength, so I pulled out my knife and gave her a large incision across her beautiful coffee and cream colored thigh for a reaction.

I got one, thats for sure.

She moaned with pleasure. The girl had a large gash across her thigh, bleeding hard, and she liked it. She pressed her legs together and absorbed the pain, enjoying it and leaving me stunned..

This girl was unbelievable. It’s good to be me..

I undid the cuff on her right hand and placed her left hand against the wall in front of us. She was completely cooperative, and I dropped the free end of the cuffs behind the support bar in the shower. I then took her right arm and cuffed it again. As I leaned over her back to do this she pressed her ass firmly against me and moved back and forth slowly. It figures I would meet this girl when I was on the run and trying to find her sister. Hey Fate. Fuck you.

I didnt move for a moment, enjoying this unexpected scene and getting lost in it. There was no way this girl was faking it, pretending to be a pain slut for attention. She probably never even knew she would like being tortured until she ended up in the trunk of my car. She might not have even been aware of it then, captive to suppressed desires. I had work to do though, and her rape fantasies would have to take back seat to my murderous reality. I am still pretty disappointed about that, but whatever.

I carved her back to ribbons, taking it way beyond a bit of bloody role playing, and thats when the screams began. I cast blood all over that stall, letting it well up on her back and flicking globs of it with the blade all over the place. The cuts were pretty deep, but I kept them non-lethal. I had her surrounded; three walls covered with her blood and me standing in front of her. The stage was set for a very easy interrogation. Bravery is pretty fleeting cuffed to a bathtub watching your own blood trickle down the walls.

She thrashed as I cut her, the pain way beyond what she was capable of enjoying, but she never tried to free herself. At no point did she kick at me or beg me to stop. At no point did she try to end it, even though I was killing her. She just screamed and cried and bled. After a few minutes I put my hands around her waist and flipped her over forcefully, dropping her back into the tub on her ass.

She was a mess. We both were. The numerous openings on her back were bleeding hard, but I had time before she would drain out completely. I started with a statement, some information to make the situation as clear as possible.

“I am looking for your sister.”

“I know”, she replied between sobs.

“I am going to kill you,” I said.

“I know,” she repeated.

The details I got from her were very useful. There wasnt much force needed to get the information I wanted. She never stopped looking at me as we talked, terrified but very much enthralled. A few times she said “I dont know” to a question and I cut her deeply. She immediately said “I’m sorry” and come up with as much of an answer as she could.

This girl probably never submitted to anyone in her life. She was bold, she did what she wanted and said what she wanted. Never did her Myspace have anything to do with broken hearts or love or sappy romantic bullshit, never any mention about chasing some guy. She was on top at all times, it seemed, but she looked at me with worship and adoration in her eyes. I was a fantasy come to life.

Hey, who am I to knock anyone’s fantasies? I have mine too.

I went to the kitchen and grabbed a chef’s knife, the biggest one they had, and went back to my thrall. I opened her legs and slid between them, leaving a mess of blood on the inside of her thighs, and I gave her a kiss. It wasn’t long, but I told her things with it. I showed her I knew she worshiped me on her knees and that I appreciated it. She took the kiss with a bit of sadness, knowing it signified the end, and I buried the knife into her heart.

The body is probably still there. Sorry to ruin your vacation, Mr and Mrs Stalburg. Boca is nice this time of year.

Tricky, aka Trixem Light of Omaha, Nebraska, you may as well kill yourself. I have enough on you to predict your actions for the rest of your life. I know all your interests, all your hobbies, everything you enjoy and take pleasure in. All those car shows, all those rockabilly acts you enjoy, the place you get your tattoos. I know everything about your boyfriend, about your parents, about your major in college and your plans for the future. I dont care WHERE they relocate you, I will find you unless you throw everything you hold dear in life out the window and start over from scratch.

Just come out and take your lumps like your sister. Its over. I win.

Who knows, you might even enjoy it as much as she did.

The Feds are smart. I sent her a dozen emails with different trojans and viruses used for ip tracking, but every time I hit “send” it would bounce back with a message saying her status was set to “away”. I should have known it wouldnt be that easy. Whatever. I can take pleasure in the fact that she is trapped in a house with the curtains drawn while I get to walk the streets a free man.

Heres something I read in the bathroom stall at the Elks County Mall while I was doing a little recon work.

There once was a man named Ed

Who never took a woman to bed

If he wanted to “fiddle”

He’d slice up her middle

And hang the remains in a shed

Hey Tricky, doesnt your sister work in the Elks County Mall?

Check out Acts of Violence. These guys rock. One of my favorite local bands.

You might want to take a look at Murderspace. It’s like Myspace for psychos. My prediction of over a million serial killers might not seem too far fetched once you check that place out.

Charlotte, where the fuck are my cookies?

There has been an animal sacrifice over the temple mount in Jerusalem recently. A large part of the ceremonial artifacts have been found beneath the city. The third temple is being built. Get your ticket now, everyone. The show is about to begin. No idea what I am talking about? Maybe you should find out.

Add me HERE if you have mobsters or prison lockdown on Myspace.

This hiding out shit is fucking boring. I hate it. This is starting to seem like more work than play, so her screams better be worth it.