I choose a popular model that is carried by several major electronics retailers. I pay cash for it, and no one blinks an eye. At home I put the nanny-cam clock in Mom’s office. Every evening I’ll plan on swapping out the memory card, browsing the recordings on my laptop, and using whatever I can to build my personal file on the Decapitator. I want to know everything I can about his disgusting, warped mind. Some would call it a sick fascination. But it’s my fascination. I want to know who he is. How he picks his victims. But most importantly, why he does what he does. How long he’s been doing it. What his methods are. What his childhood was like. In fact, I can’t think of anything better than sitting down and having a conversation with a person like that. Just an hour to probe his brain. Discover what made him who he is. See if there are any parallels to my own darkness. And then I’d remind him about all the innocents he’d harmed.
