1

JOURNAL ENTRY – 2 APRIL, 4:30 PM

It goes like this...

There is a fine line between the American dream and the American nightmare.

I am the nightmare.

Let me tell you what I mean. A few short hours ago, I set in motion the final act of a diabolical tale so skillfully conceived, so masterfully written, so flawlessly executed, it is nothing short of genius. Absolute genius!

Now, let me set the scene. It is springtime. It is Chicago.

Soon the city of big shoulders will be brought to its knees, in full-scale panic, political hacks of all stripes screaming for justice. Why am I so sure? Because I pay attention, that’s why. I know how the system works. The mayor will lean on the cops who will lean on the snitches who will bend their eyes and ears to the street. Of course, they will all come up empty.

It’s simply part of the game.

My game.

And I make the rules.

So, here’s the situation. The body count presently stands at six. Lucky number seven is on deck. And with that comes the ultimate euphoria, the most narcotic of all emotions – omnipotence. I am close now, so very close. But I must remain patient, vigilant, ever mindful of the fact that anyone can kill. The trick is getting away with it.

Alas, it is getting late. The dull light of day will soon begin its slow fade to black. And I must be on my way, for there is much to do before that last tortured soul can be set free, free from her needless pain and suffering and humiliation. It is a moment I have long thought about, lived for, and rehearsed in the darkness when I could not sleep.

  Yet there are no perfect moments, only perfect plans.

  And so, the end begins.

  Armageddon!

  And that, boys and girls, is how it goes.