Secrets of the internet.

Harriet has a special hobby...

Meet our main character, a woman by the name of Harriet Smith (Internet alias collector25).

She hangs around in the basement a lot – its much more secluded down there, and the thrum of the washing machine cools her down, relaxes her stressed brain. Her laptop is key to her life, and whenever she isn't looking after Stevie she is on that laptop. She is waiting eagerly for a reply to the topic, 'How to kill a Zookeeper: must be ironic method.'

HEY EVRY1 :D
HAV NEW ZOOKEEPER HUSBAND. YOU KNOW TEH RULZ. IDEA WITH MOST VOTES WINS :) LOVE YOU ALL!
-
COLLECTOR25

From the moment she had posted the topic, she hits the refresh buttom over and over and over and over and over and over...it always took a stupidly long time for someone to reply on these things, Harriet found.
Eventually, she got what she was hoping for...

COLLECTOR, GET YOUR GRAMMAR RIGHT!
SPRAY HIM WITH BLOOD AS HE LEAVES FOR WORK, SO HE GETS EATEN BY THE LIONS.
WORKS EVERY TIME.
YOU’RE BUILDING YOUR COLLECTION VERY QUICKLY COLLECTOR, ARE YOU SURE YOUR DOING IT RIGHT?
-
WOMAN-WITHOUT-A-CAUSE

While she wonders how exactly to reply to Woman-without-a-cause with the most offended tone she can muster, (are you sure you’re doing it right, the cheek...) Harriet considers the idea. A tried and tested method, true- all it would take was a kiss while she sprayed it down his back- Fred would just think it was cologne. But she decides against it- ‘tried and tested’ meant lacking in originality and Harriet likes to be creative about her collecting.

The next idea was much more interesting.

LOL TO THE POSTER ABOVE, SUCH A GRAMMAR PUSHER.
CHOP IM UP AN FEED IM TO DEH VULTUREZ
PUT THE PIECES IN THEIR NEST SO NO SPECTATORS SEE THE PIECES.
-

007KILLER

Over the next ten minutes or so, woman-without-a-cause and 007killer trade blows while Harriet considers how to do 007killers plan.

‘Mom?’

Harriet looks away from the computers bright screen to see her son Steve at the bottom of the stairs looking nervous, rubbing his hands and looking away rather than meet her eyes.
‘What’s up honey bunch? You can’t have any cookies until tomorrow remember? One a day…’ Harriet waggs an index finger at her son while trying to make a, ‘I want to break the rules but can't,’ face.

‘Do you have to kill Freddy mom?’
Harriet tries to keep a straight face, shocked by her son’s question.
‘What is wrong, poppet?’
Harriet moves to sit with her son on the stairs, suddenly worried. Was he being bullied at school? Did he have allergies?
‘It’s just…I like Freddy. He makes me laugh and takes me to the zoo for free. And what about Mittens?’ Steve looks upwards towards his room where Mittens the bat was hanging in the cupboard, soon to fly into the night.
‘I know…’ Harriet croons. ‘But you should think of Freddy as a pet lamb. He may be cuddly and nice now, but eventually you are going to have to carve him up and put his skull on a hook with all the others. Okay?’
‘Okay Mom...’
‘Now,’ Harriet is brisk now the chat is concluded, ‘Go and let Mittens out of the cupboard, or he might starve and try and attack you, and that wouldn’t do would it?’
Steve obediently stands up and jumped back up the stairs, making a loud ‘thlump’ with every upward jump.

Harriet sighs and goes back to the apple mac sitting on her desk.
It isn’t like she hasn’t had these questions before- Steve had asked a few times why she married the collectible husbands before killing them. The answer was obvious, although it took a long time to explain. You couldn’t just drag them off the street to be collected, that was cheating, and sickening behavior at that.

She looks to the skulls on hooks in the basement, spread neatly along the wall in parallel lines, nicely polished (a proper mother keeps the house clean, is Harriet’s mantra) with little labels beneath each skull. They are very varied- Plumber, Demolition Expert, Charity Runner, Terrorist etc. but all very common too. The best collectors have rare prizes (one on the forum she was surfing now claimed to have the REAL Steve Irwin’s skull.) She thinks of Beckham, a footballer one of her bingo friends is obsessed with, and then thinks of Bill Gates, and thinks of how well she would be able to provide for her son with his kind of money...

She brainstorms ideas to collect them both as she turns back to her topic.

WOMAN-WITHOUT-A-CAUSE, YOU’VE LOST THE ARGUMENT, GET OVER IT. BACK TO THE TOPIC.
GET HIM DRUNK, AND THEN LEAVE HIM NAKED IN THE ALLIGATOR POOL. TRY AN GET HIM THERE BY SAYING YOU WANT TO BE SEXUALLY ADVETUROUS.
–
I-KILLED-POSTMAN-PAT-AND-ATE-HIS-CAT

Harriet wonders on that idea. Grins as she considers it, and the replies begin to flood into the topic.

Author's Note

This is a story im hoping to publish, so I hope you enjoy it.

Reviews

[Syldor]

This is quite original. A bit-rather a lot- morbid, but really interesting. I have no doubt this would make a fantastic story.

[A]

WOW...I want to know what happens next! I don't ever read stories and it's really hard to capture my attention with stories. But as soon as I started reading this piece I was hooked. What a crazy piece you wrote. But very captivating. This story is very sadistic but very well written. Great piece!