Friday, February 4, 2011

Diary of a Serial Killer - Chapter 2 - by Nova

In the spring of 1940 I was a private in the German uniformed police or Schutzpolizei. I had received my basic training at the police school in Kiel immediately after finishing my year of obligatory national labor service.  I had no interest in serving in the Wehrmacht in wartime, and volunteering for the police guaranteed I would not have to.  I had grown up around too many men who were missing limbs from the previous war to have any desire to follow that path.  
The idea of actually losing a limb in combat was the only thing in life that truly frightened me.  I would be a cripple, and a cripple is dependent on the charity of others. I knew from firsthand experience that the milk of charity that flows from my fellow man is  a thin gruel indeed. The possibility of this actually happening disturbed me so much that it haunted my dreams. It became a recurring nightmare whose details never changed.  
I would dream, especially during the period when I was performing my labor service and knew I would soon be eligible for the draft, of a man standing in a field, shirtless with both arms gone.  All that remained was short stubby appendages like fins. Attached to each arm was a wooden prosthesis with metal claws on the end. Together they looked like lobsters claws. The entire apparatus was tied to his body with sweat grimed white straps. His chest was pale an emaciated from the inability to exercise and the difficulty of eating like a human being with those clacking silver claws. 
The dream would always end in the same way.  The man would turn to face me, a broken toothed grin in his scar of a mouth, and I would wake up shaking and gasping from stifling the scream that I so wanted to give voice to. Why the terror? That face was unmistakably mine. I would lie there afterward in my narrow wooden bed clenching and unclenching my hands into fists and then hugging myself to reassure my panicked mind that my arms were still attached and functioning.  No, the army was definitely not an option.


  1. Nova,
    Kudos! Keen nose you have for the trail! Struggle and fight, lost in the bog, never-the-less your geis pulls you back to ken. May I? Delete, erase, disavow, (do not "re-write") the last slange of AA. Your fingers tapped keys, but your soul was AWOL. However, this new bit, is YOU! It is real.

    From a made-up lofty perspective, may I present to you a thought. Check out predator/prey ratios.
    This is so-call real "scientific" shit. I kid-you-not, check it out. Then, think about the dude buddha, he was a trip. A good man to catch a buzz with, he could talk a line, but it made sense better than most beer talk. All about general re-birth of energy/souls to the next higher level. Just a big revolving escalator kind of thing. And, get this, he did not differentiate between "animal ka" and "people ka" just one big smear twisting round and generally trending up, for the most part. So, you got your predator/prey animal kingdom ratio spiraling up to "human" level awareness and what do you know? Dang, so called sociopath type humans/normal humans about equal the afore mentioned predator/prey ratio. What a coincidence! You are on to the thang, Nova. I enjoy seeing you grow. Woodeneye

  2. Woodeneye,

    Yep, and sometimes the ratio gets unbalanced...

  3. Yeah,
    and thats some scary shit. WE