He's Good with his Hands

People’s Exhibit 78 in the Case of Neven Jovic

“Today’s date is Wednesday, March 8th, 2022. The time is presently 2:22pm. We’re inside the Private Incident Detail, room 782, at Supernatural Unearthing Society’s Main Headquarters. Present is Lead Investigator Amira Asfour, Investigator Amos Lockheart, and for the record, your full name?”

A: “Neven Jovic.”

Q: “Before we get started, Mr. Jovic, the organization requires you to sign this Non-Disclosure Agreement, forfeiting your right to talk about anything discussed here after the conclusion of this confession.”

A: “And what happens if I refuse this Non-Disclosure Agreement?”

Q: “Well…we could assume the worst that you are guilty of a crime and send you straight to the police instead of handling you ourselves, and I promise you, they wouldn’t be as friendly with you as we are being with you now.”

A: “Hm, fair enough. I’ll sign the paper.”

Q: “Now, with that taken care of, please state for the record why you have decided to turn yourself into the Supernatural Unearthing Society today.”

A: “Well, it shouldn’t be a surprise at this point since I’m here, but I’ve done some pretty…incriminating stuff over the last year or so.”

Q: “Can you please be more specific? What ‘stuff’ are you referring to?”

A: “Oh, the usual. Killed somebody, like you do. Not that much of a surprise, huh?”

Q: “I’m not here to make moral judgments, Mr. Jovic. I’m simply here to record the account.”

A: “You say that, but I see it in your eyes that you don’t like me. I’m no mind reader, but it’s clear as day.”

Q: “Stick to the situation at hand…Mr. Jovic. What exactly are you confessing to?”

A: *Sigh* “There’s no hiding it now, I suppose. It wasn’t really a…murder, so to speak. I didn’t plan it, or maybe, part of me did, and I just ignored that part until it got too loud in my head. Either way, yeah, I killed someone.”

Q: “And what was the method of murder?”

A: “Strangulation.”

Q: *Pauses* “Is that seriously it?”

A: “No… not even the half of it. May I continue?”

Q: “Go ahead.”

A: *Adjusts himself in his seat* “Alright then. So, it all start this one night at a club. Yeah, real charming; I know. But I wanted to be out that night. I wanted something to do to get my mind off…growing old. Every day, I start to look a bit more like my father, and it just…just fucks with my mind. So, I went out to try and distract myself.

“I went to that grungy, broken-down club on the far side of Salt Lake City. You know the one. The one where all the drug-addicted teenagers go to buy dope off their older yet still strung-out counterparts. Yeah, I had been there enough times to know who the dealers were and who had the good stuff. I wanted, no, needed, something good that night.

“And luckily, the guy I usually go to was there that night. He had to be around 24, but you could barely tell it. Everything he wore was so baggy that he looked like a pile of dirty clothes that someone jizzed in and had come to life. If you ever did see his face or his skin, you’d see how sickly and pale he looked. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen his hair, but I’m scared to think of what it looks like underneath that oversized beanie he always wears. But I wasn’t one to judge a man to his face—I do that on my own time. He had the good stuff; I had the money. Nothing else needed to be said.

“I found him deep in the club, way past the main dance floor filled with strobe lights and half-dead junkies clambering about like the undead monsters they wanted to be. Beside him were these two fat chicks that seemed to be his entourage. I don’t know where he found them, but they clung to him like sick puppies and even growled at me as I approached. I didn’t give a shit, though. I’d wipe the floor with them if they even laid one of their greasy fingers on me.”

Q: “Let’s focus on the drug exchange, shall we? What did you buy from your dealer?”

A: “Cocaine. I’m not one of those sad, old pricks that wants to get drunk and forget the night. I want to fucking conquer it. I wanted everyone in that club to know me and respect the fact that if I wanted to…well, I don’t need to incriminate myself more now, do I?”

Q: *Writes down “psychotic tendencies” in notes* “Of course not. Please continue.”

A: “Right then. I bought enough coke off the guy for a few lines and grabbed the closest guys I could find. Didn’t matter who, as long as they weren’t women. I don’t trust them when they’re on that stuff. But me and the boys, it’s a party when were on it!

“I managed to snag four other guys that seemed like they needed the pick-me-up, and we all went into the bathroom. Security was unsurprisingly lax at this place, so I took out my trusty razor and divvied up what I had. I let the others take their hits, watching as they all instantly started to lose themselves, and then I joined them.

“The. Fucking. RUSH! It was amazing, to say the least! I had to have gained at least 5 years in that moment. When I burst out of the restroom, I let everyone else know it too. I plowed through the crowd like they were bowling pins and got in the middle of the dance floor. I don’t even know what the fuck I did except that I was loud and all over. What dance moves do people even do nowadays? I just copied some shit I saw people doing on TikTok earlier that day. And yes, I do use TikTok. I’m not that out of touch.

“But either way, I went wild. No one could handle it, not even the guys that I shared the coke with. Everyone started to slowly move back or were pushed away when I bumbled over to them with my sporadic dancing—if you can even call it that. And that’s exactly what I wanted. Fuck ‘em! This is my dance floor now, my fucking club, and my fucking time.

“Still…someone stood up to the challenge. This tall, thin brunette with her pelvis and ribs showing yelled some cringey shit like ‘Hell yeah, dude!’ and joined me on the dance floor. I don’t know what was with her, but I didn’t care. I loved a challenge, so I tried to steal the spotlight from her.

“She was something else, though. No matter how I flailed my arms or how much space I took up on that dance floor, she stayed there, ignoring me except for the occasional encouragement. She…didn’t care. In fact, she sorta…respected me, I would say. While everyone stood back, she embraced the chaos, and to be honest, I couldn’t believe someone—let alone a woman—could or would do that.”

Q: “I’m guessing, then, that this was your victim.”

A: “You sure do like to interrupt.”

Q: “It’s my job.”

A: “No, your job is to record my story, not to interrupt and bitch about details.

Q: “I’ll show you a bitch.” *Stands up*

Q2: “Let’s not get too heated, now. *Gestures for Amira to sit down* Mr. Jovic, please continue with the story.”

A: “Alright then. Where was I?”

Q2: “You were talking about the tall woman who was dancing with you.”

A: “Oh yeah! Well, to no one’s surprise, she was digging me, so I asked if she wanted to talk somewhere more quiet. We left the dance floor together, and things went mostly back to normal now that our little show had come to an end.

“Her and I talked beside the wall next to the DJ booth. I’m hesitant to call it a ‘booth.’ It was more like some cardboard boxes hiding some guy’s expensive equipment so that no one would notice. Of course, I noticed, but I was more focused on this hot lady in front of me.

“But when I say ‘hot,’ I don’t mean in any conventional sense. When I said she was skinny, I meant it. There were no curves in her body whatsoever. She was long and slender in the face. She was like a blank canvas, and that’s what made me so attracted to her. I wanted to be the painter for this canvas, and my coked-up mind was already humming with ideas and fantasies.

“I asked her if she wanted to do it in the restroom, and she shook her head. ‘Let’s do it at my place,’ she said, and I was all down for it. Apparently, she didn’t live too far away from the club. She was a regular, but this was the first time I had ever seen her there. It didn’t matter though. I had her in my sights now, and I would never let her go.

“We made the ten-minute walk to her place, and she barely managed to open the door to her apartment with our lips locked together and her eyes already starting to roll back in her head. I was always good with my hands. She was basically grinding against my fingers all the way to the bedroom. I could feel my hands becoming slick, and I knew this was going to be a fun time.”

Q: “Let’s skip to the more important details. I’d rather not write down whatever disgusting scenes you’ve committed.

A: “Aww, where’d your professionalism go? The thought of someone besides yourself getting plowed by me making you upset?”

Q2: *Holds out a hand to block Amira from lunging at Neven* “Mr. Jovic, I will have to ask you to refrain from antagonizing Inspector Asfour anymore, or I will have to step in…physically.”

A: “Fine, fine. I mean no offense, big man. I’ll continue with my story.”

Q2: “Good.” *Sits back down*

A: “To make a long story short, we got into the bedroom, and things got freaky real quick. I think I was barely inside of her for a few minutes before she asked me to do all sorts of stuff. Now, I’ve had my fair share of sexual experiences, but there was something different about what she wanted. How she said it.

“She didn’t just say, ‘Tie me up,’ or ‘spank me harder’ in the breathy way a woman would usually do. No. She would freeze mid-thrust, stopping me completely as her vagina squeezed me tightly and held on. She then would look me deep in the eyes, no matter what the position, and command me. Her voice was stern but not monotone. It was like she was mocking me.

“’Spank me,’ she once said in that patronizing tone, and I did. I slapped her ass hard and left a red handprint, but all she did—all she fucking did—was slowly glance at the handprint, let out a disappointed sigh and slowly turned those eyes back on me. ‘I said…spank me.’

“So, I did it again, much harder. Same response, except the sigh was more annoyed this time. ‘Why haven’t you spanked me?’ she said. ‘I said…spank me.’ And I did! I fucking did over and over! Her ass was bleeding, welts forming all over that surfboard-looking piece of ass, but she kept saying it over and over. ‘Spank me. Spank me. Spank. Me.’

“I felt defeated, and that just pissed me off. I’ve never had someone disrespect me like this. But she wasn’t done. She eventually gave up on the spanking, turned over onto her back, smearing her blood into her covers and said ‘Tie me up. You can do that, right?’

“And of course I could! I fucking shot up from my spot on the bed and tore apart the whole apartment looking for something I could tie here up with. Every closet. Every cabinet. I flipped over the fucking couch even. I didn’t care. I was going to show this bitch who was in charge. Yet the whole time, she kept saying in the same tone of voice as before, ‘You can tie me up, right?’

“What got in her mind to even think she could command me like that?! But here I was, doing exactly what she wanted, and I couldn’t stop myself. I hated every moment of it, but I wanted nothing more than to shut her up and prove her wrong.

“I couldn’t find a rope or anything like that, but it didn’t matter. I went to the bathroom and yanked the shower curtains off the rod. I came back to the bedroom with her still asking me if I could tie her up. I sure as hell could now. I took the rings out of the shower curtain and used them to bind her hands and feet to the bed. It took some ingenuity, but I managed it.

“I stood up and looked at my work. She pulled on the rings, but she could barely move her arms and legs. It was perfect. I fucking tied her up. For a moment, I thought she would finally congratulate me for doing a good job. I was so naïve to think that.

“What she did instead was much, much worse. After struggling with the rings, she slowly looked up with me with those soulless, expressionless eyes and said to me, ‘I thought you could do better.’”

Q: “So what did you do next?”

A: “I just sort of…stood there. Something broke inside of me. I don’t know how to describe how I felt in those first moments. I was numb, definitely, but something else came over me. A thought; a feeling.

“I looked down at my hands, and I felt them…tingling. It may have been the cocaine still in my system, but I think there was more to it. My anger, my confusion, my disdain for this bitch were making my hands tremble. They were filled with so much hate. I had to release it somehow.”

Q: “So you strangled her like you mentioned before?”

A: “It was more than that… It was a ritual. I got on top of her and looked deep in her eyes as she stared back at me. She was silent, expecting, still demanding. She wanted more, so I would give her more. My movements were slow, deliberate. I placed my hands around her neck, and I felt her swallow. She seemed to relax.

“Ever so slowly, I squeezed harder and harder. Her eyes started bulging, but our gaze never broke. I could feel the blood trying to pump up to her head, but it got stopped by my muscular hands crushing this fragile woman’s neck. They stayed there, stalwart while she convulsed. She started to struggle to breathe, but I didn’t let go. No part of me wanted to, and part of me also believes that she didn’t want me to stop either.

“It took only a few seconds for her to go unconscious, but I stayed there for minutes, just to make sure. That whole time…she continued to stare at me. She never closed her eyes. They were locked on mine, even after death. And they were so beautiful.”

Q: “Mr. Jovic, given the information that you’ve just provided, you would certainly be convicted of first-degree murder and most likely under Utah state law would be sentenced to death. While this is already enough cause for you to have come to the Supernatural Unearth Society to make this confession, you are aware that we deal specifically in supernatural cases, correct?”

A: “Yeah.”

Q: “And if there is no supernatural element to your story, we will have to throw out your case and turn you into the police.”

A: “I’m aware.”

Q: “Then I must ask, Mr. Jovic, is there more to your story?”

A: “Oh, there definitely is. Would you like to hear?”

Q: “Certainly. Please continue.”

A: *Pauses for a few moments* “…I loved it.”

Q1 and 2: *Pause and stare at Jovic*

A: *Laughs to himself and shakes his head* “It’s so funny.”

Q: “What’s so funny, Mr. Jovic? *Glances at Amos*”

A: “Oh nothing. My dad just always said I had a…murderous look in my eyes. I thought he was just trying to rile me up, make me a man, but no…he was right for once in his sorry life.”

Q: *Stares back at Jovic* “Are you making the claim that you’ve always had a desire to murder?”

A: “…Yeah. It was always something interesting, ya know… *Voice trails off*.

“The more I think about it, the more obvious it becomes. Knowing you, Investigator, you probably think I came from a poor background, maybe a rough neighborhood, and that’s what made me…love what that I did. Well, that’s not even close to the truth.

“I actually grew up in a pretty well-established neighborhood. I got to see those pansy Momon boys ride around on their bicycles every single day. I didn’t have a reason to want to see them dead; they never knocked at my door. I didn’t have a reason to look at our dog and wonder to myself ‘I wonder what she looks like on the inside. What if I just…cut her stomach open? Then I would know.’ And many times, I tried to convince myself that every kid knew the combination to their father’s gun-safe, inspected every gun in there and knew how to clean, maintain, and load them all without their parents’ knowledge.

“Now that last one, I will say, was a bit of a stretch, but I made my dad so proud when he took me to the gun range, and I had perfect aim. It just happened to make me happier to see the fear in his eyes as he questioned to himself ‘why does he have such good aim?’”

Q: “May we please get back to the story?”

A: “Seems I finally broke that ‘stone-cold’ composure of yours, ha-ha. Good. Guess I’ll go ahead and continue.

“I. loved. It. After I finally disposed of her body and burned down the place, I couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt. The feeling of her weakening pulse underneath my hands, her pale skin growing paler as every moment passed, the deep contrast between how dead she looked and how red her blood was. I see now why Twilight was so popular; I’d fuck Edward too.

“But the thing that haunted me when I slept was obviously not the killing or the dismembering but her eyes. I wanted her to keep staring at me. I wanted her to look at me and make me feel insignificant, like I’m not enough. She’s the only person that’s ever made me feel that. I’ve gone through life and been so successful, so perfect at everything, and she made me feel worthless. And I loved it.

“But as days passed, the image of her eyes became blurry. It probably was all the alcohol, but I eventually became unable to see that crystal-clear stare like I once was able to, and it made me long for that feeling once more. I wanted to be ridiculed, to be belittled. I wanted to feel weak again and then prove to whoever that sorry shit was that I am stronger than them and that they are the dumbest piece of shit for even thinking that they’re better than me!

“My hunger became so ravenous that I couldn’t hold it any longer. I had to hunt. I went everywhere: bars, clubs, underground sex shops, truck stop hookers. None of them had what I wanted. I needed her. I needed someone on the brink of death, someone so pale and thin that their mockery would actually land on me and put me into my primal rage. But there was no one like her.

“I don’t know how long I searched. I do remember eventually going to neighboring towns and then to neighboring states. I had so many apps on my phone and hundreds of Reddit notifications from subreddits I had followed, all for the purpose of finding the right woman for my needs. I needed to find her. I needed her back.

“Eventually I ended up in Oregon. I learned from one of my sources that there was this ‘ritual’ happening where you could conjure up your perfect mate. It didn’t matter what they needed to look or act like; they would summon that being for you. Now, I had never been a religious or superstitious person, but at this point, I was willing to trek into Hades just to find my original kill and bring her back for just one last fuck. This wasn’t far from it.

“We all gathered in the woods, fifteen of us. Each one of us had paid $5,000 as an ‘energy exchange’ for the ritual, but I didn’t give a fuck. Our leader for this event was this old lady who wore an all-black robe that covered her entire body except for her decrepit arms that held onto her wooden cane. It was more like some fallen branch someone had amateurishly hacked-up so it could act as her cane. She was obviously some kind of witch, but what interested me more was trying to figure out what she would do with all the money.

“With her cane, she dug a hole in the ground and dumped some magical items inside of it. I remember seeing some random herbs, a couple of lizard hands, and maybe some bones. She then had us stand in a line facing this hole as she lit it on fire. A giant, green pyre erupted from it, and everyone—except me—cheered.

“The whole thing was completely out of my realm of understanding. I couldn’t resonate with what everyone else was feeling. Maybe I didn’t care much at that point to try and empathize with them. My only focus was on seeing if this shit worked, and it seemed like I would get my answer shortly.

“The first person in line was someone I never expected to see at an event like this. It was just some guy. He was a lot shorter than me, and he had styled his brown hair as if he was some GenZ influencer. He ran to be first in line and was visibly jumping up in down in place, waiting for the witch’s commands.

“She instructed him to hold out his hands and imagine the being that he wanted. Gleefully, he stretched out his hands in front of the fire and closed his eyes. We all grew silent as the fire crackled and grew in size. We all sweated—not from the intense heat but a cold sweat. It was unavoidable as we watched something form within the fire.

“It was a black blob that oozed in the center of the flame. Slowly it took the form of a human with large green eyes. Its black mass shifted colors and hair poured out from the top of its head. In only a few moments, an ordinary, pale-skinned woman with abnormally large, green eyes and breasts emerged from the fire, and her creator immediately grabbed her by the arm and whiskered her away.

“The witch called for the next person like nothing strange had happened, but the energy in the line instantly picked up. Everyone was now excited that we knew the results, but I had a sickly feeling welling up in me. From that fire came a fully-fledged human; how the hell was that possible?

“My confusion only grew as the next people summoned their creations. One summoned some anthropomorphic fox with all kinds of genitalia, spikes, and tentacles jutting out of it. It was probably seven feet tall and picked up its creator with those tentacles and carried her away to some far-end of the wilderness. Her cheers were barely audible behind that thing’s massive footsteps.

“The next person summoned another human, but the list quickly became viler. It wasn’t just humans or weird amalgamations but sometimes animals, weird, sentient objects, and some things I refuse to describe. I don’t even try to remember them. But then it was my turn.

“All the others had gone off into the woods to fuck or made their way back to their vehicles to fuck somewhere else. It was now just me and this witch. She gestured for me to reach out my hands and imagine what I wanted, but I had to speak my mind. After seeing all of the atrocities that were made, I had to know.

“’What’s the catch?’ I asked her that, and she just smiled. It seemed like she had been waiting for someone to ask that question, and of course, it was the last person who asked the most logical question after everyone had already created their mates.

“She didn’t answer me, though. Instead, she placed a finger to her lips and nodded in the direction in which the first guy had run. It had maybe been 15 minutes since he had summoned his creation, and that part of the woods had been very vocal with the sounds of sloppy fucking the entire time. But after the witch had gestured in his direction, a new sound immerged.

“At first, it was the woman screaming, but then it changed to the man. His, however, was full of fear. The brush rustled aggressively as something quickly raced through the forest back towards the fire. It was him, hyperventilating, covered in blood and fully naked.

“He marched toward the witch, demanding that she take his creation back. There were scratches all over his body, too deep to be caused by trees. That blood was his own.

“She slowly shook her head, smiling, and the man lifted her into the air with adrenaline-filled strength. On an average day, he would have struggled lifting that women, but the fear in his eyes awoke some confidence in him that he didn’t deserve.

“But just as quickly as he picked up the woman, he swiftly dropped her. She landed on her feet, unphased, but he stood there lifeless. Blood filled his eyes and slowly trickled out of the hole in his chest. Stretching through that hole was the arm of his creation that now clutched onto his still beating heart.

“It swiftly yanked its arm out of the man’s chest, and he plummeted to the ground. It then climbed into the fire, still holding the heart, and they burned together. Its flesh charred and flaked off as the life left its eyes, and it melted back into that black ooze from before. Eventually the creation and its creator’s heart burned away, and it was like nothing had happened. All that was left was me, the witch, and guy’s dead body.

“She turned back to me and said, ‘Hold out your hands and imagine what you want.’”

Q: *Pauses* “So did you do it?”

A: *Sits back in his chair and laughs* “Not only did I do it, I did it with the biggest fucking grin on my face.”

Q: “…Why?”

A: “Because this witch or whatever the fuck she was could give me exactly what I wanted. I didn’t want a sex slave like all those perverts. I wanted someone who would challenge me, who wasn’t scared of me. I wanted someone who when I killed them, they would feel nothing but disappointment at me, and who better yet than someone that could easily kill me?”

Q: “Mr. Jovic, if this is the case, then why did you come here? You got what you wanted, right?”

A: *Shifts in his seat* “Well, that’s the thing. I kinda got it a little…too well.”

Q: “Go on.”

A: “After seeing how that guy died, I knew exactly what I would have to do to prevent that shit from happening to me. I wanted the feeling that she was in control, not to actually lose control, so I had to stop her from killing me when she decided it was my turn. So, I hatched a plan.

“I closed my eyes and imagined her eyes as best as I could. Somehow, at that moment, I started to see more of her. I could imagine her hair, her long, sickly body. Even her voice came to mind. Once I had a full picture of her, I opened my eyes, and there she was—just as beautiful as the day I had killed her.

“I wasted no time in taking her by the hand and running to my car. The screams from the other couples had filled the forest, and I knew I was on the clock. I strapped her into the passenger seat, and we were off. I maybe had 10 minutes before she would turn on me.

“Even though I went as fast as I could, we were deep in this forest. I kept my eyes open for any sort of building, somewhere that would give us some privacy. It seemed hopeless for a moment, but as I drove past a trail, I noticed in my peripheral a cabin that was situated not too far away. I screeched to a halt and reversed my way back to that trail.

“We parked and I grabbed my supplies out of the trunk. Just in case I had left this ritual with something, I brought cuffs, rope, and a knife, and I’m glad I did. I carried it all with me to the cabin, and she followed me. She even opened the door for me without asking. That witch really had made it seem like whatever we created would be the most loyal thing ever—right up until it mutilated you for even existing.

“The inside of the cabin was perfect—a little too perfect in hindsight. It was one room with a bed on one side with a metal headboard. On the other side was a chair and desk that both seemed to be hand-made. I took the cuffs and handcuffed her to the metal headboard and then tied her feet to the opposite side of the bed. For good measure, I used the last of the rope to strap her down to the bed and just in time too. My fifteen minutes were up.

“She started thrashing about, grunting and cursing at me like I had never been cursed at before. Her eyes glowed a powerful light-blue, and the bed creaked as she pulled on her bounds. I’m so glad I took those last moments to tie her down more. I don’t think the cuffs would have been enough.

“Still, she rocked the bed back and forth all on her own, and I stood there, clutching the knife and waiting to see what would happen. She struggled for some time, but she never freed herself. I eventually sat down and just watched her. It was entertaining, I gotta say.

“There she was, saying how she was going to rip out my intestines and feed them to me or that she was going to peel off my eyelids and piss in my corneas, and I just laughed to myself. She wasn’t exactly the same as her inspiration, but that was okay. She was better. She was more hostile, more powerful. It would make me killing her all the more better.

“I waited probably thirty minutes before she finally ran out of energy and lied still. Now was my time to shine. I put the knife down on the table and slowly walked over to her. I recalled that night where I had done this all before. I straddled her and looked her deep into her eyes, and she stared back. It was so beautiful…I hardly know how to describe it. I felt a rise in my chest and in my pants. I had missed it. I had missed her so badly.

“I placed my hands around her throat and squeezed. With all my strength, I squeezed and watched her face tighten. She kept staring at me just like I wanted, and the biggest, open-mouth grin came on my face. You’ll never know how good it feels, detective, to hold someone else’s life in your hands and to feel it slowly slip away. It’s better than anything I could ever imagine, and I was living it once more.

Q: “That may be true, Mr. Jovic. I have no desire to replicate your sick and twisted ways, but something tells me this is the part where things started to fall apart.”

A: *Stares at her* “Aren’t you perceptive?”

Q: “It’s my job. And to be frank, Mr. Jovic, I’m not scared of you. I pity you in how you think killing someone makes you scary or that it somehow makes you better than me or anyone else. Projection is a slippery slope.”

A: “You don’t know shit!”

Q: “Why do I know then that the next thing you’re going to say is that you barely escaped with your life? *Smiles*

A: *Pauses and then sighs* “Fine. You want the ending? I’ll give you the fucking ending, and then you better hope that I don’t see your face again!”

Q: “Likewise. Let’s finish this, shall we?”

A: “So… I was sitting there on her stomach, strangling her, when all of a sudden, her body relaxed. I thought that was it. She was still staring at me, but all her fight was gone. I was too focused on reveling in my own orgasmic moment to notice that she was still breathing.

“My hands were still around her neck, savoring the moment, but she spoke plainly and clearly as if they weren’t there.

“‘You were supposed to kill me, and you couldn’t even do that right.’

“I looked down in horror as she smiled at me. She was laughing, laughing at me! I grabbed her throat again, but this time, I couldn’t even squeeze it. It was like trying to squeeze stone, and she just kept laughing at me.

“’Tick Tock,’ she said. ‘I was supposed to die minutes ago.’

“I got off the bed and grabbed the knife. I held it to her face, and she just stared at it in awe.

“’Do you really think that’ll kill me? I’d like to see you try.’

“I stabbed her in the neck, and I felt her body jolt. I was sick of hearing her bullshit. Blood spurted out, and I was sure that did something. I was so sure. But then her eyes rolled back to me, and that laugh, just as strong as before, filled the room.

“I stabbed her again! In the chest, in the face. I filled her with so many holes. I was covered in blood and so was the bed. The knife and my arm were drenched in it. Still, it did nothing. She had more holes in her than a sponge, but she kept laughing at me. I thought that was demeaning enough, but it was worse when she stopped.

“She went completely silent. I felt her body move underneath me, and I hopped off. It was all a game; I was never in control. The way she effortlessly broke the cuffs this time around revealed that fact to me. She sat up and turned to me, rubbing her wrists.

“’Now then, do you want to know what it feels like to be killed?’

“I didn’t stay to answer. I burst through the door and sprinted to my car as quickly as I could. I heard rope snapping behind me, and I didn’t care to look back. I fumbled with my keys as she walked toward me with bare footsteps. We both knew that she could have already finished me off, but I think she wanted me to run. She wanted me to feel whatever fear I had tried to instill in her.

“I managed to get in my car and turn the ignition. I got up to speed, and as I looked into my rearview mirror, she was already there. She was sprinting right behind my car, never going fast enough to overtake me but never losing pace. The whole time, she locked eyes with me through the mirror and smiled.

“But she made one mistake. I realized that I couldn’t outpace her no matter how fast I went, so I slammed on the brake. All I see next is that my back windshield was covered in blood and that a torso had flown overhead and landed right in front of my car.

I smiled, thinking that I had escaped, but I had made my own mistake. As I sped away, I looked in my left mirror, and all that fear rushed back to me. She was already underway in putting herself back together.”

Q: “Where did you go next?”

A: “Straight here. At first, I didn’t know where to go. I had stopped at a 24-hour car wash to clean up the car and myself. I changed clothes, checked to see if she was anywhere near, but I didn’t know where to go from there. I googled some options while I drove because I didn’t dare stay stationery for too long. Eventually, I was pointed to this…place. I didn’t have any other options, so I took the chance. I drove all the way from Oregon to here, all 10 hours.”

Q: “And is there anything else that you’d like to add?”

A: “Yeah. How does that witness protection plan look?”

Q: “We’ll call for a couple staff to pick you up and inform you of those details. But, needless to say, your life will never be the same.”

A: “As long as that bitch doesn’t get to me, it’s whatever.”

Q2: *Calls for additional staff*

Q1: “Now before you go, Mr. Jovic, I did have one more question for you… a personal one.”

A: “And what’s that?”

Q: “What’s it like being pathetic?”

A: “Oh fuck off.”

*Door opens as staff arrives*

Q: “Enjoy your new life in witness protection, Mr. Jovic.”

A: “Go fuck yourself, you cunt!”

*Answerer leaves room*

Q2: “Quite the guy, huh?”

Q1: “Really makes me question who the real monsters are.”

Q2: “Pretty sure it’s still the ones that we are hunting down. His story is just one of many we keep uncovering as of late.”

Q1: “Except he’s the one that caused it. We don’t know where the rest of this shit is coming from.”

Q2: “We will eventually. Just, make sure to get some rest, alright? You can’t solve this mystery on coffee alone.”

Q1: “Watch me. If figuring out what is causing all of these supernatural events will stop all of these deaths, I’m going to do it. And maybe afterwards I’ll have some extra time to lock up people like Jovic for good.”

Q2: “Just take it little by little, okay? We’ll get there.”

Q1: “Sure.

“End of Transcript. Time is 3:14 pm.”