We serial killers are your sons. We are your husbands. We are everywhere - Ted Bundy.

The shadow exploded.

Not a fluid, sensual, wondrous explosion, but a violent splatter that screamed blue murder. Blood splashed against the wall as the bottom half of the shadow dropped out of view. There was a final scream that ended in a gurgle then silence. “Three point five seconds,” the man waving a chain saw before him shouted. “Excellent!”

The trash cart creaked annoyingly as Ralph pushed it down the hospital hallway. He was a tall man at six feet ten inches, weighing over two hundred and fifty pounds. His long, dirty-blond hair often covered his eyes.

“Why don’t you fix that damn cart, Janitor Boy?” Milton hissed. Milton was a bear of a man, half a foot shorter than Ralph but with a broader chest and thicker muscles. Ralph often thought he could take him. Yes, in the right mode, he could snap his back like a twig. That thought made him smile slightly.

“I’ll… I’ll fix it,” he stammered as Milton walked away.

“Ralph in housekeeping, please report to the Gross Room,” a voice called over the intercom. Ralph stopped and turned around. This was only Wednesday. He made regular pickups from the Gross Room on Fridays. Every now and then they called him earlier for special pickups.

The Gross Room was located in the Medical Lab. It was basically a freezer where body parts were kept. They had two boxes for him, a small one about a foot by a foot and a bigger one three feet long. He knew right away that the long one contained a leg. He had seen enough of them to guess the contents without opening the box.

Ralph rushed to the waste storage room where he promptly opened the long box. He knew he was not supposed to open it. The box was clearly marked, “INFECTIOUS WASTE” in big letters. He could catch anything if he came in contact with the contents. Still, he opened it. Inside was a leg from a black man. Unlike most of the body parts he took care of, this was fresh, not freeze-dried. It had been cut at the knee in a way Ralph described as sloppy. Usually the cuts are clean and smooth. This had veins and tendons hanging out. And it was bloody. Fresh and bloody.

A clear liquid dripped onto the leg and Ralph realized he was drooling.

He quickly re-sealed the box and took it, along with the rest of the infectious waste, to the incinerator which was a rectangular block of metal with a tall chimney. It was divided in three parts. The bottom was a steel box four feet wide by six feet wide by five feet tall that was lined with bricks and cement on the inside. On top of it was a similar box but entirely made of steel. Out of that was a twenty-foot tall chimney. Ralph opened the heavy door and threw the boxes in. He then turned on the burner switch located on a wall beside the incinerator. There were two clicks as the gas blew in and ignited. The temperature gauge quickly rose to five hundred degrees Fahrenheit then slowed down as it approached a thousand degrees. No smoke rose from the chimney. Before they installed the upper burner, dark smoke used to billow in thick clouds. Neighboring restaurants complained forcing Ralph to only burn at night until the second burner was installed.

At fifteen hundred degrees, a click signaled the ignition of the second burner whose purpose was to reduce smoke to invisible hot air, which it did quite well. The temperature in the lower burner reached eighteen hundred degrees. At that temperature, an entire human body would be reduced to ashes within two hours. Ralph knew because he had witnessed it many times. Satisfied, he pushed his cart back to the hospital.

It was time again. He just knew it was

Ralph got off work at ten o’clock that night. In the bathroom, he washed his face, arms and chest, splashed on cologne and changed into a light blue shirt and gray dress pants.

He drove an emerald Honda Accord coupe. Ralph could have afforded a Lexus had he wanted one, but he wanted a low-key vehicle with a large trunk. His parents had left him a fortune and his lawyer had gotten him a plumb settlement after the parents were involved in a fatal accident with a city truck. So why was he still a janitor when he was rich? Because this was part of his perfect plan.

He knew where to go to find the perfect candidate. Or rather, victim. There were people out there; transients, homeless, wanderers, or those simply looking for a thrill. He needed people who would not be immediately missed or missed at all. On any road, at any given time were hitchhikers looking for a ride to anywhere but here. Ralph knew exactly where to take them.

On a side street, he noticed a man with a knapsack. He looked like he was in his late twenties and healthy. He wore a T-shirt and shorts. Ralph could see his muscular biceps and thighs. Perfect. He looked into his rear view mirror and saw nothing behind him. He slowed down quickly rolling down the window.

“Need a ride,” he asked smiling.

“Yes, thanks,” the man replied opening the door. As soon as he was in, Ralph drove off. He did not want anyone noticing him picking up the hitchhiker.

“So, where are you headed?” Ralph asked.

“As far east as possible. Going to New york.”

“Well, I can’t help you much. How about a stop at my place. You could take a shower, have a bite to eat. Catch some z’s then leave in the morning.”

“And what do you want from me?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m not gay or anything. Just some hospitality towards my fellow man.”

“I can dig that. Thanks.”

They arrived at Ralph’s house. He drove into the garage and closed the door behind them.

“I’ll show you to the guest room. There are clean towels in the bathroom. Wash up and come back to the kitchen.”

“By the way, I’m Ralph.”

“Sam. You’re very kind.”

When Sam came back into the kitchen after the shower, Ralph had heated some leftover beef tips and potatoes.

“I hope you like this,” Ralph said setting it on the table. You want some beer?”

“Sure man. This is great.”

Ralph did the dishes while Sam ate in silence. After a few minutes, Ralph sat at the table and watched Sam slowly slump over. He had put a sedative in the food. He calmly got up and tied Sam’s hands to the chair’s armrests. He then tied his legs to the chair legs, taped his mouth shut and walked into the living room to watch television. What he watched was the video to metal band Drowning Pool’s, Bodies over and over.

After about thirty minutes, his mind a whirlwind of images from the video, Ralph went back to the kitchen. Sam had awakened. He moaned and strained against the straps when he saw Ralph come in.

“Sorry I had to gag you, but the kitchen is not soundproof,” Ralph said. He got up, walked to the kitchen drawers and pulled out a butcher knife and sharpening rod. He slowly walked around the table sharpening the knife and closely watching Sam’s reactions. This is what Ralph loved best; the look of utter fear in his victims’ eyes. Sam rocked back and forth in an attempt to fell the chair but it could not move. It was bolted to the floor.

“Relax, Sam,” Ralph said with a grin. “Yes, it will be painful, but that is life.” He sat down in a chair facing Sam. “Have you ever heard of the Black Dahlia?” Sam stared at him blankly. “I’ll tell you about her. She was this young actress who went to Hollywood with dreams of fame and fortune. Unfortunately someone there had other plans. She was murdered and cut in half. Cut in half,” he emphasized. “Can you believe that? Her top half over here and her bottom half over there. The first time I saw pictures of her body I wondered what the killer felt and thought. Of course it was all wrong because he did it to a woman. Women are for loving not hurting.”

Sam’s face was all red from all the huffing and puffing. Ralph was rattling on in a calm voice as if this was a routine ritual.

“Anyway, I was fascinated by the cutting in half. I wanted to do it and experience the thrill of the act. Of course I wanted to do it on a man and I wanted to cut him while he was alive. The thought of making a grown man cry like a little girl was very exciting to me. To hold them in utter fear with one of the scariest weapons ever created is bliss. Do you know what that weapon is?” He asked pointing the knife at Sam. Sam still stared blankly.

Ralph got up and walked to the refrigerator where he took out an onion. He picked up a plate and came back to the table.

“That weapon is the chainsaw. It’s a blast. Those ragged teeth on high speed coming at you full force will take you to a place beyond fear. Oh, men have wept and begged and most of them have shit themselves at the sight of that beautiful tool.”

Ralph peeled then sliced the onion. His eyes watered slightly. Sam had tears rolling down his face, but it was not due to the onion. He still strained against the straps as though they would eventually give in, but all was in vain.

“The first time I did it is probably my favorite,” Ralph continued as he took the onion and placed it on the counter by the stove. “It was like sex, only better. Do you remember your first orgasm? You almost pass out yet it’s the greatest sensation you ever felt in your life. You feel a slight fear, but it’s the thing you want the most. Multiply that by a hundred and you can imagine what I felt.”

Ralph opened a cabinet and took out a modified rotary saw. He plugged the long electrical cord into an outlet then placed the saw on the table in front of Sam. Sweat poured down Sam’s face as he renewed the struggle. Ralph brought a hard plastic tie. He ripped Sam’s left hand shirt sleeve off and placed the tie around the arm right next to the armpit then pulled very hard on it cutting off the blood circulation to the arm.

“Of course the first time I cut someone, I was a bit sloppy and slow. It must have taken me at least twenty second to separate him in two and by then he was too far gone to see anything. I suspend them over a bathtub and I like them to see their lower half drop into the tub before they die. The best part is when I taunt them before I cut, but seeing those legs kicking in the tub puts the icing on the cake.”

Ralph brought a bottle of whisky and placed it on the table before turning on the saw. He waved it in front of Sam, a grin on his face. Suddenly, he moved in and swiftly cut Sam’s arm off right below the tie. He opened the bottle and poured whisky on the wound then untied the arm and took it to the counter. Sam appeared to be in shock. His eyes were rolled backwards and he could hardly breathe. Ralph came back to him and checked the wound. Surprisingly, not much blood came out.

“Calm down and you’ll be ok,” Ralph told him. “You’re not going anywhere yet.” He went back to the counter and washed off the arm then skinned it and cut the meat off the bones in thin slices. He sautéed it in a bed of onions.

Sam had calmed down and stared blankly ahead of him. Ralph slapped him across the face.

“Pay attention, buddy,” he said. “This is not a sight many people get to see.” He went back and prepared some garlic bread in the toaster oven. The meat was nicely done. He served it on a nice plate with the bread and brought it to the table. Sam watched as Ralph ate part of him.

“I must say you taste pretty darn good, Sam.”

Sam slumped forward and passed out. Ralph continued eating. After the meal, he untied the unconscious Sam, cut him into pieces and kept some of the meat for later. The rest went into trash bags that were put into the car trunk and the next day made a trip to the incinerator.

Perfect.