Jeff's POV

I found my target, and that while playing video games as well. Some people are so gullible. The fact that Ryan’s implying that we should meet in real life after I told him that death and blood fascinate me makes me astonished about how low human’s IQ could be.

He’s nice, for sure, but I bet that he’s lonely. He wouldn’t have chatted with me for so long if that wasn’t the case, unless he’s a serial killer with my motive. But then again, what are the chances? Not a lot are that (un)fortunate. Just like Ryan.

“Hmm... how 'bout hitting up a movie theater sometime?”, I asked. I didn’t want to immediately ask him to come over to my place or something. I need to be careful as I don’t want to push my boundaries and creep him out. We need to start off small first. Remember, baby steps.

“T-that sounds good. We can meet up sometime,” there was a bit of stutter in his voice. It was obvious he wanted to sound confident, but he’s nervous. He’s been pretending our whole call. Maybe it was my voice that was imitating him. Or is he like that around other people? Probably he’s nervous around everybody, as if he wasn’t he wouldn’t be lonely and he’d actually have real life non serial killer friends and not chatting with somebody he’s never seen or even heard of in his entire life. He’d wish he’d never met me if he actually knew who I was.

“Absolutely! When are you up for that?”

“Well, I’m free tomorrow actually. We can go to The Starlight Enigma Theater if you want. I know they have some good horror movies there.”

Damn. Now he was making sure I was having a good time too, despite the fact that horror films chill him to the bone to the point he wants somebody to hold him while he’s watching them. I wonder, would he cover his eyes once we got there? Maybe he’ll even want for me to hold his hand. I know we can’t cuddle in theaters, can we? Maybe I’ll like holding his warm hands, before I carry out my initial plan that is. Are his hands warm, or are they cold like the dead like mine are? My body is as cold as my stone heart. Maybe I don’t even have a heart. Am I even human? I don’t know at this point. The guy I was chatting with right now is the complete opposite of me. He sounds so warm, kind, genuine. There’s no way this can be chilly. Both physically and emotionally.

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“Yeah, we can switch it up this time, no horror. What genre are you feelin'?”, I asked, trying to be at least somewhat nice.

“R-really? Okay, are you into comedy?”

Not really. I can’t laugh. The only thing that’s funny to me is watching people scream in terror and/or in pain. It draws a smile on my face seeing people suffer in pain. It’s a good feeling I can’t explain. But I there’s no gore videos in theaters like that, are there? Sadly.

“Sure thing. We can go for that. Comedy isn't usually my thing, but I'll make an exception for you.”

“O-okay, great. Are you free tomorrow? It’s a Friday night, so I’d be fun to spend it that way.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”, I wanted to sound as chill as laid back as possible, but even I have to admit knowing that I’ll be spending time with this guy gave me this weird feeling of… “good”? I can’t describe it, but I guess it just made me feel nice knowing that I’m going to be spending time with him. Even if it’s doing something I have no interest in whatsoever.

“It’s a deal then. I’ll pay for the tickets. It’s my treat. It’s only fair since I chose what we’re watching.”

“Alright, but I've got the next one.”, if there is going to be a next one.

“Alright. Okay, it’s getting pretty late now, and I have to go to bed if I want to wake up on time for my job tomorrow.”, he said as if it was the last thing he wanted to do on this world.

“What's your day job?”, I asked. I wanted to know where this guy worked, as it’d be easier to stalk him if he just told me, making my own job easier by not having to research about him.

“Oh, I work at McDonald's actually.”, he said with a hint of disappointment in his voice. It’s as if he didn’t wish to be there, but instead had no choice. “What about you?”, he asked, to which I have no idea how to answer him. What do I say? I kill people and steal their jewelry and wallets? It’s a rare situation like this when I don’t know what lie I should spit.

“I'm, uh, a freelancer. Yeah, that's it.”, fuck. He might notice I’m lying.

“Oh, cool. But what do you do?”

This guy was asking too much. You know the saying curiosity killed the cat? I need to tell him something believable. I can’t tell him I do art as a freelancer. Who even makes money out of art? Plus he might ask to see something I’ve made, which I don’t have. “I’m a…”, I was stuck. Shit. “I'm, like, one of those data organizing pros, you know?”

“Oh, yeah. But what were they called?”, he asked.

You know, you little fucker, if I actually knew maybe I’d tell you, but I don’t because I’m lying. “I, uh, totally blanked on the name right now.” It was obvious that I was not telling the truth.

“You don’t know what your job title is?”, he lauched. “Okay man. I guess as long as you make money to survive, does it really matter?”

“True.”, I didn’t know what else to say. The less you say when you’re lying, the better, as there’s less chance for your lies to be exposed on broad daylight. We don’t want that now, do we?