schemes, fantasies and daydreams, Tim's mind never left  him a moment of boredom. He could be a million miles away and still look like he was paying attention. Mr. Pfloehm (pronounced "Flem") never called on anyone, so it was easy. What a joke, this teacher. The kids called him "Mr. Loogie" and "Mucous Man."  Tim could put anything past him, this guy was so thick. Those quick thoughts were the only focus Tim had put on the teacher all day. He couldn't help thinking how he would terrorize that little kid Ricky today. Maybe he would tie him up and describe exactly how he could kill him--and how it would feel to do it. Of course, he wasn't going to kill the little rat, but if Ricky believed it, it would be enough. Tim was tingling again, drooling over the fantasy. That realization made Tim stop just long enough to wonder if something was seriously wrong with himself--if somehow he was evil.  "Who cares?"  he shrugged, pretending the thought didn't scare him.

Nobody was home when Tim arrived, so he called Ricky over. His plan was going to work after all. Ricky was seven years old and thought Tim was the coolest thing since the ice age. Tim had paid special attention to him since the first day he moved here three months ago. He always invited him in to play and usually he was nice to him. Ricky showed up on the doorstep every day  whether Tim called him or not. In reality, he had a plan he was implementing. He was breeding a dependence in Ricky. Ricky needed a friend and Tim was being just that, like a drug taking over its user. Tim was confident that he could get Ricky to do virtually anything--and sadly, he was right.

Ricky showed up only seconds after invited, devotion and adoration in his wide blue eyes. In his small, outstretched hands was a box, wrapped with great care in deep red paper.  "Happy birthday! I bought it and wrapped it myself!"  It was the compact disc Tim had wanted more than anything else in the world. Immediately he grabbed his little worshipper and hugged him longer and tighter than he had anyone before.  "You are the coolest little dude I know."  Yes sir, his plan was going better than he expected. This kid was hooked.

   Tim was so overwhelmed by the gift that he postponed his plans to terrorize his little friend that day. Tomorrow was Saturday and there would be

plenty of time to have fun with him.  "Hey Ricky, let's go for ice cream."  And so they did. They laughed, played, and joked until it was time for each to be home.
 
Saturday morning  Ricky showed up bright and early. Mom and Dad were not home, which was usually the case. The coast was clear. Tim could have as much fun as he could dream up, and he wouldn't get caught.
 
"Today we're going to play outlaw and his hostage. You're my hostage, little dude. I'm a dangerous psychopath who just escaped from prison."  Tim thought for a moment or two, and then a wicked grin appeared on his face as he continued, "Now sit down in this chair and I'll tie you up."

"Are you really gonna tie me up? Why do you have to really tie me up?"

"I'm a dangerous psychopath, you idiot! They do things like that. Besides, you'll find out soon enough what I'm gonna do to you. Just sit down!! Come on, don't you trust me? Do you think I'm really gonna hurt you?"

"Okay, I'll do it."  Ricky wasn't so sure anymore that Tim wouldn't hurt him. Reluctantly, he took a seat in the little chair.  "I guess you just want to make it as real as possible."

Tim felt so powerful. The sight of the terrified little boy crouching in the chair before him excited him. He was visibly trembling with exhilaration, every sadistic inch of his body tingling as his mouth watered again. Ricky looked so tiny, vulnerable, pathetic. He could barely wait to tie him up. Slowly, Tim approached his little hostage and began to bind his hands and ankles and then to gag him and tie him to the chair. Then, staring intensely, unsmiling into Ricky's eyes, he spoke for the first time.

"I'm going to kill you now, Ricky. I'm going to kill you slowly and painfully."  He spoke slowly and convincingly. He almost believed his own words. Maybe he wasn't pretending at all. In any case, he was enjoying this far too much.  "First, I'm going to

9

Next Page