Jake Seaton: May 2008 Archives
I'm finding it surprisingly hard to commit to this as a concept, probably because I'm so unused to having anyone to share my thoughts with, even digitally and anonymously, that I rarely get the urge to write. I've touched on detachment before, but I at least have a current example, as two weeks ago I finally overcame my "dry spell", as it were, and secured a target.
I had to take the easier but less fulfilling route of randomness - needs must. I live in the south east of the UK, so one night I simply changed my plates (easily knocked up yourself with the right equipment) drove a hundred or so miles northwards, found someone walking alone in the early hours, dragged them into a side street and smashed their head in. Messy, but I was so pent up by that stage that really didn't bother me all that much. Regardless, easily solved by wearing a balaclava and taking spare clothes. Change in the alley, bag up the old clothes, and drive back, of course being sure to follow all the speed limits - while a cursory check made sure there was no obvious splatter on me, it would do to be pulled over for some minor reason and discover something I'd missed.
I'm not particularly ashamed to admit that television has provided me with a few pointers on avoiding detection, although basic common sense plays a larger part. In this case the weapon happened to be a pipe that was in the street, but regardless of the source, I always take it with me. Likewise the clothes - I don't wear anything valuable or cherished, and burn them as soon as possible on my return. Why anyone would choose to keep clothes used in a crime is beyond me. Ensure they're fully destroyed, and scatter the ashes, or simply bag them up and deposit them at the local tip. I of course dump the weapon too, which I've never handled ungloved.
I realise I'm detailing mundane details rather than the emotional aspect, which was my initial thinking - how easy it is to get distracted. I feel remarkably little emotion when dispatching someone. I'm of course aware at the time that they're likely to have friends or family, and over the past two weeks there have been the usual press conferences from them, pleading for information. I just find it impossible to relate their...pain, I suppose, to any sense of reality. I feel they're overreacting, which is an attitude I realise is "wrong" by society's standards, but just because they're loud doesn't make them right.
Awful things happen every day, all over the world, so why these people believe "justice" (a word that's been bandied around a lot in relation to this case) will actually help anything, I don't know. It's been so long since my last attack there's nothing obvious to tie it to previous examples of my work, which is faintly disappointing - always nice to be recognised.
Anyway, my bloodlust sated for the immediate future, I may take the time to actually choose a target carefully now, which is always more satisfying. I'll also endeavour to post my progress here...
I had to take the easier but less fulfilling route of randomness - needs must. I live in the south east of the UK, so one night I simply changed my plates (easily knocked up yourself with the right equipment) drove a hundred or so miles northwards, found someone walking alone in the early hours, dragged them into a side street and smashed their head in. Messy, but I was so pent up by that stage that really didn't bother me all that much. Regardless, easily solved by wearing a balaclava and taking spare clothes. Change in the alley, bag up the old clothes, and drive back, of course being sure to follow all the speed limits - while a cursory check made sure there was no obvious splatter on me, it would do to be pulled over for some minor reason and discover something I'd missed.
I'm not particularly ashamed to admit that television has provided me with a few pointers on avoiding detection, although basic common sense plays a larger part. In this case the weapon happened to be a pipe that was in the street, but regardless of the source, I always take it with me. Likewise the clothes - I don't wear anything valuable or cherished, and burn them as soon as possible on my return. Why anyone would choose to keep clothes used in a crime is beyond me. Ensure they're fully destroyed, and scatter the ashes, or simply bag them up and deposit them at the local tip. I of course dump the weapon too, which I've never handled ungloved.
I realise I'm detailing mundane details rather than the emotional aspect, which was my initial thinking - how easy it is to get distracted. I feel remarkably little emotion when dispatching someone. I'm of course aware at the time that they're likely to have friends or family, and over the past two weeks there have been the usual press conferences from them, pleading for information. I just find it impossible to relate their...pain, I suppose, to any sense of reality. I feel they're overreacting, which is an attitude I realise is "wrong" by society's standards, but just because they're loud doesn't make them right.
Awful things happen every day, all over the world, so why these people believe "justice" (a word that's been bandied around a lot in relation to this case) will actually help anything, I don't know. It's been so long since my last attack there's nothing obvious to tie it to previous examples of my work, which is faintly disappointing - always nice to be recognised.
Anyway, my bloodlust sated for the immediate future, I may take the time to actually choose a target carefully now, which is always more satisfying. I'll also endeavour to post my progress here...
