And then my wife came into the room and saw me and screamed and I pushed the dead boy away and leapt in front of her and grabbed her hair but it wasn’t me. And I looked into her eyes, her wide, beautiful blue eyes and I, no She whispered into her ear in my voice, “What goes around comes around, darling.” And I cut her throat. I pushed that knife through the side of her neck and pushed it across and her blood flowed my god it poured all over my shoes and I lifted my foot up and said “Uck. These shoes are new, goddam it. New.” And then I got in the car and I drove, god knows where She learned to drive, to The Other Man’s house. He was my agent, of all people. And I knocked on his door ever so politely and his wife answered and I killed her and then he came and said “Oh my God. Alistair, what are you-” But he never finished because I cut off his dick and heard him scream like a girlie and waved it in front of his face and then stuffed it down his throat and cut his belly open and all the while I was laughing. And then the police came and they took the knife away and suddenly I was me again and they showed me the pictures and I was sick and they looked at me like was filth.

And here I am, rotting in this white-padded hell-hole because of Her. She used me. She used my own hatred to sate her thirst and then cheerio bye-bye so-long! Can you hear the footsteps outside my cell? Yes, I hear them too. My time is up. She’s found me, the way I found her, and know She’s come back. I was Hers, and She was mine, and now it’s time for that final dance. They’ll say it was an accident or someone was driven mad by this place.

I told you that you wouldn’t believe me. Nobody believes me, but I already told you that.

Mr Alistair Thorpe, convicted serial killer and diagnosed with extreme psychological trauma, was found stabbed in his cell by one an employee of the Institution he was being held at. Police say the man had undergone “severe psychological trauma” at the brutal murder of his late brother. The murder weapon was a knife with a seven-inch blade, and on the blade a name was scratched. It can just be made out as

“Suzie.”