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The events depicted in this story parallel those depicted in 12-String: 7

- - - Warning - - -
This story is written from the perspective of a serial killer and is, as such, disturbing and should be read with caution. While there will not be graphic depictions of violence, such scenes will be referenced tangentially, and violence will be threatened upon others.

This story is not necessary for the understanding of the 12-string series. It may be skipped.

- - - Warning - - -
The moment I first saw her, I knew. She was the one that would be mine forever. I'd thought that with my condition, I'd never be able to find someone who'd accept me for who I was. She changed that for me.

Desdemona. What a name. What a face. And that hair? To die for. Ok, so I admit that I have a thing for hair. I love hair. No, just head hair. It completes a person. It can be short or long. Full or thin. As long as it fits them, their personality and everything, it's fine.

It takes a really special person to have pink hair. Some people can pull it off, and some people can't. Then some people are like Desdemona. They wouldn't be the same without it.

Her very name has a sensuality to it, and I could say it forever, and be content with just the sound of it in my own ears.

When we met, we shared a connection. She didn't even need to look at me, but I felt her eyes on me while I left. It made me blush.

I spent part of the day watching from the doorway, but I had other duties at work, and had to get to them.

***
I almost missed her coming out of the building. She has such a cute girly car. It's obvious that she was meant to be who she presents herself to be. I'm not even sure if anyone else picked up on the subtle clues that she gives off that she isn't quite what she appears to be.

I followed her car to the motel. She looks so confident booking her room. I can almost imagine the two of us out together. I have to chuckle at myself because we are out together. Sure, she pretends to be oblivious of me, but I know she has to feel me watching her. Our connection from earlier was that strong. We're meant to be.

She goes to her room. I watch for a few minutes through a crack in the window. A patron asks what I'm doing, and I have to make up a story about looking for my room. He tells me that the rooms are numbered, and I thank him. I tell him it must be a blond moment. He chuckles even though I'm a brunette. Some people really show their stupidity.

I head home to pick up some of my gear. I figure that she's not going anywhere for the immediate future. Everything's in my bag, so I don't have to gather anything up. I do check it twice before leaving anyway, making sure that I have everything.

I drive back to the motel, and quickly look through the windows before I begin. She's nowhere to be seen. I take out my lock picks and quickly jimmy the door. A new speed record for me. Desdemona, you should really have put the privacy bar across the door. Anyone could get in here. I hear the water running in the bathroom, so I set about my tasks. I set up the cameras and microphones in strategic places.

After making sure that none of them are easily visible, and checking that I am getting a good strong signal, I head out to my car, quietly closing the door behind me.

I set the signal amplifier in a bush with a concealed outdoor outlet. This will give me a three mile radius to receive the signal from. I drive a couple of blocks away, and plug my laptop into my cigarette lighter.

Soon, I can hear the water turning off, and I have eight views into her room. She is glorious as she leaves the bathroom. I didn't realize how much of what she appeared to be wasn't real. I'm sure that as soon as we get together, we can change that. She is so different without the hair.

Her body excites me, even as it is now.

I listen to her conversations, and realize that I have an opening into to her life. She has something precious to her. Something I can take for her. Something I can protect from her.

She talks until she is tired and then goes to sleep. I watch her sleep for a long time, and then come to a decision. I call my favorite flower shop, and leave a message. They open early enough that I can get the flowers to her before she goes to work tomorrow. I will have to be there before her. It will be another wonderful day.

I call her, but she doesn't get to the phone before it goes to voicemail. I had to snag the number from work before I left. I wait an hour before I call again. This time she answers and I just listen to the sound of her voice. Even now, I'm amazed at how feminine it sounds. When she sings, it's obvious who she is inside. Only a real woman could sing like that.

She tells me to call back. I feel a slight thrill. We're making another connection. I know exactly what I'll write on her note for her flowers now. I really hope she likes her flowers. Of course, all girls like flowers. Will she bring them into the studio today?

I wait another hour to call her again. I talk to her this time, to let her know I understand our connection. She hangs up, and get's ready for her day. I go and get her flowers. I knock on the door exactly one hour after the previous phone call.

I'm back in my car, and I rewind a bit to get all the action. Her image walks over to the door and looks out through the peep hole. She doesn't see anyone of course. She takes the flowers and closes the door. She threw the flowers away. What is going on? Have I been wrong? No, I can't have been wrong. Maybe she still feels a stronger connection to her Treasure than to me? I need to show her that I am the one for her. She needs to realize this more than anything else.

I go in to work, but my heart isn't in it. Plans flow through my head. First I need to figure out where this Treasure is. I chat with the secretary, who lets slip that Desdemona lives at her girlfriend's house. I get the address from the form on the desk. The secretary doesn't even realize she gave it to me.

Desdemona talks to me, and doesn't recognize my voice. How can she not realize? Still blinded. I make a decision and leave work at lunch. I've gotten what I wanted from this job anyway.

I don't even tell anyone that I'm gone. It will take longer for them to connect me with my Desdemona that way.

I drive south to her house. Her Treasure is beautiful. I can see why Desdemona is blinded.

I convince her I'm from the studio, and with my ID it's not that hard to do. I lead her out to my car, and offered her a bottle of water. I'd put some sleeping pill capsules in the water I offered her. It put her quickly to sleep. For a moment or two I'm worried that it had been too much, but I noticed her breathing, so I stopped worrying.

***
I'd expected to use the sound proofed room for play with Desdemona, but it would serve as a cell for the Treasure just as well. I was watching her pound on the door in the monitor when the phone rang. It was the Treasure's. I would use a voice modulator to adjust my pitch a bit to more closely match Treasure's.

It was Desdemona. She wants to change her hair permanently to pink. I agree with her that it's a good idea. She never once guesses that I'm not her Treasure. Maybe this will work. I squeal when I get off the phone with her, and do a little dance.

Tomorrow, I will talk to Treasure about giving up her claim on my Desdemona.