It was just after sunset when the taxi dropped Anita off near the Galveston Bay cruise ship docks. Watching until the taxi disappeared
in the distance Anita turned away from the docks and walked toward the nearby row of old warehouses. Stopping at the entrance to Warehouse 3
she glanced back toward the docks to insure she was still alone before turning to look up into the building’s security camera.
Anita smiled at the sound of the warehouse door unlocking and was already starting to undo the buttons of her trench coat as she pushed open
the heavily corroded metal door and stepped inside. The heavy door closed behind her plunged the interior of the warehouse into darkness, followed
by the loud click of the door’s magnetic security locks reengaging and the sound of Anita’s coat dropping to the warehouse’s concrete floor.
Standing alone in the darkness, Anita felt her heartbeat quicken as the cool damp air of the warehouse caressed her skin. Seconds later, at the back
of the warehouse a pool of bright lights suddenly switched on to reveal Anita’s darkest desire, the garrote. Without hesitation Anita started toward
the light, the steady click of her heels echoing off into the dark emptiness of the warehouse.
Reaching the waiting garrote Anita turned her back to it and placed its deadly rope loop around her slender throat before crossing her wrists behind
its massive wooden post. It was then that she saw him step into the light, his face already concealed beneath his ominous signature hockey mask. Without
a word he tightly buckled the heavy leather strap dangling from the back of the post around Anita’s gloved wrists followed by a second leather strap that
secured Anita’s stocking sheathed ankles to front of the post.
Removing the oversized black rubber ball gag from the pocket of his leather apron one of the world’s most sadistic serial killers paused to ask, “Any last requests?”
Staring into his cold cruel eyes Anita suddenly found she was to terrified to speak and after a moment merely shook her head and meekly opened her mouth for the gag.
Enjoying the sudden look of fear in Anita’s eyes I stepped behind the garrote post to give the cameras an unobstructed view of my now helpless victim as I
reached up and carefully tighten the garrote, its deadly unforgiving rope slowly tightening around Anita’s slender throat until she found herself struggling to breathe.
Listening to the amusing sound of Anita’s labored breathing, I walked over to the table of torture implements and switched on the soldering iron before
turning back toward my waiting victim. Seeing the look of horror on Anita’s face I think she’s finally realized that while I promised the night would end
with her long fantasied death by slow strangulation on the garrote she’d neglected to request that I skip all the usual torturous mutilations that have made
my snuff videos so diabolically infamous. Anyway, it wouldn’t have mattered if she had. I’ve never seen the point of honoring any of my victim’s last requests...