While it seems shocking to most, but as a serial killer, it’s not that unusual to receive a personal request from one of my snuff film fans. So, when Becky contacted me about the possibility of starring in one of my productions, I of course agreed. Becky’s only requests, that we’d skip all the mutilation and move straight to the disembowelment, and rather than plunging the blade into her guts as I normally do, that I’d just cut deep enough to open her belly without inflicting significant internal damage. Oh, and she also asked me to wait until after she died before harvesting her breast implants for my collection.

It was a cold rainy night when Becky arrived at my latest filming location, a rundown warehouse in the harbor district, “May I take your coat?”

Smiling Becky turned and started unbuttoning her black, knee-length coat, “Thanks.”

Removing Becky’s coat I discovered, that besides the coat, all she was wearing were stockings and high heels, “Well, I see you’ve dressed for the part, and remember, you can still leave if you decide to back out. That is until you’re chained to the wall, after that mercy is no longer an option.”

Walking over to the wall-mounted restraints, I could see the look of amusement on Becky’s lovely face reflected in the textured metal walls of my abattoir as she inspected one the wrist manacles chained to the wall.

“You know. I've had a fascination with slasher movies since my first Michael Meyers or Freddy Kruger blood and gore fest. Not to mention all those Scream movies with their masked killers and razor-sharp knives. However, it wasn’t until just a few years ago, when I discovered your snuff site on the dark web, that my darkly masochistic fantasies fully took flight. You see, while I’ve fantasized about being one of those women butchered in those slasher films, usually they died way too quickly.”

Smiling at my masked reflection, Becky continued, “I’ve always fantasized about being the victim of a serial killer, but rather than a quick knife in the gut's death, I wanted it to be a long and painfully gruesome affair, but I wasn’t sure about the details. That was until I saw one of your snuff films. I think it stared a woman name Deborah, where you disemboweled her without mutilating her insides. I’ve watched that video like two hundred times. She lasted almost an obscenely unpleasant hour after her disembowelment. She might have lasted even longer if you hadn’t driven that railroad spike into her brain.”

Then, with a sudden look of defiance, Becky turned toward me and added, “So, no railroad spikes tonight, correct!”

Smiling behind my face concealing mask, “You needn’t worry Becky. No railroad spikes. Tonight you’re destined to die by disembowelment alone. A decision you may well come to regret.”

“Thanks Ghost, I should have known you of all people would understand. However, I do have a confession to make. Since the first time I’d seen one of your snuff films, I’ve fantasized about staring in one, to die by your hand while fulfilling my darkest masochistic fantasy. I guess you could say while having enjoyed being the voyeur, I think it’s finally time to be the victim.”

Turning back toward the wall, with its dangling restraints, Becky reached up and placed one of the restraints around her wrist, the manacle making a noticeable metallic click as it locked securely closed. Looking over her shoulder, Becky smiled darkly, “Oops, it looks like we’re way past that point where mercy remains an option. Still, I think I’m going to need help securing the rest of these restraints.”

With Becky securely locked within the restraints, Ghost placed a plastic bucket between her stocking clad legs and selected a scalpel from the nearby tray of surgical instruments. Turning back, he grasped her by the throat and roughly pushed her back against the wall, the darkly erotic look of fear and excitement in her eyes, one he’d seen in the eyes of dozens of groupies over the years, in the final moments before their deaths. Smiling at the growing look of fear in Becky’s eyes he pressed the blade of the scalpel into her skin just below her sternum. Ignoring Becky’s sudden cry of pain, he patiently waited until he felt the tip of its blade penetrate the inner wall of her abdomen, and then smoothly pulled the scalpel downward to her crotch, its razor-sharp blade effortlessly slicing her belly open.

After I cut her open, it only took about twenty minutes for Becky’s intestines to finish spilling into the waiting bucket. Now, two and a half hours later, she was still alive and conscious, standing there with her intestines dangling from her dying body. I was impressed but judging from the amount of blood on the floor and in the bucket I knew that Becky only had a few minutes left before she finished bleeding out. So, picking up one of my favorite butcher knives I brought its razor-sharp blade up against the underside of her right breast.

A look of desperation appeared in her exhausted eyes, “Didn’t you promise to wait until after I died to harvest my implants?”

Smiling behind my mask, “No Becky, you asked me to wait but I never actually agreed.”

Becky managed to stay conscious until after I finished harvesting both her implants for my collection, but the sudden increase in blood loss pushed her past the point of no return, and she died just a few minutes later.

Later that evening, as I was putting the last pieces of Becky’s dismembered corpse into the acid tank, I reflected on the fact that while I’ve received dozens of requests to disembowel my next victim in the same way as I did Becky, this was only the second time the request actually came from the victim herself...