Trevor

He set the book down. The worn and tattered copy of Firestarter by Stephen King. The corners of so many pages were creased and dog-eared that the book nearly opened itself when he let go. This book. It was interesting.
Not the little girl that could set things aflame with her mind. Her mother. He liked her mother. The way she was found trapped next to the ironing board. The way her fingernails were torn off.
It sounded fun. He wanted to try.

He parked his car. The stupid thing guzzled gas like his dad used to guzzle Jaegar. He looked out the tinted windows, searching. It didn’t have to be a lady. Everyone had fingernails. Who would be nice and quiet though? He didn’t want to disturb the neighbors. They already wanted him out because he ‘had a strange look in his eyes’. Shallow, that’s what they were. Rude little shallow—him. He was perfect. He was just sitting there, alone, at the bus stop, tying his shoes. It looked like he wasn’t used to tying shoes. One of the laces hit him in the face. Perfect.

It wasn’t hard to get him in the car. Some chloroform. Old-school, yes. But still effective. He dragged him into the passenger’s seat and set him up like he was sleeping, buckling the seat around him.

He locked the boy in the bathroom, set a camera in the keyhole to watch him. Waited. For two days. He made sure the boy was empty. He heard that people leak when they die, and he didn’t want to have to clean the carpet.

He put his mask on, then carefully inserted the hose into the keyhole and turned it on. The gas slowly filled the bathroom. Soon, the boy would be unconscious. Then he would have his fun.

He brought his bag into the room and unzipped it. He pulled his gloves on, no fingerprints for evidence. He undressed the boy and folded the clothes, putting them on the counter. Then he took out the duct tape.

It had been hard to pick. There were so many colors of duct tape now, the little multi-mart by his house even had four kinds. He had driven two cities over though, because he needed lots and didn’t want to be suspicious. He went to eight different stores and ended up getting gray to ensure that the color would all be the same. He hated it when things didn’t match.