It was a nice and sunny monday for May, being around 25 and just started to live on her own, no roommates and all, everything she did everyday was suddenly a lot of fun for her, doing her job as a candle maker, shopping for food, making her own dinners, even shopping for boring stuff like yarn and candlesticks was fun and exciting for her.
But those "good times" can't last forever you know,
There was a fire near May's home
She just happened to be a witness,
but something just clicked inside of her.
Maybe it was the sweet, sweet screams of the dying, begging for a god to save them,
Maybe it was the absolutely wonderful and addicting smell of the fire as it burned the house, and all of the people inside it.
Maybe it was the feeling of power she had since she was a witness to it all and she could call for help at any minute.
She didn't know what it was, and doesn't care either.
She just knew that she wanted- no, needed more of it
After weeks of preparing she finally did it, she killed a man,
She couldn't even remember his name thanks to all the excitement and rush from killing so quickly and mercilessly.
May stared down at the now lifeless body as the blood from their wounds, that are filled with needles and the knife she had ready, started to color her beautiful white floor carpet with the disgusting red. She wasn't scared though, rather she was a bit disappointed with the kill, he didn't fight back, he couldn't, how do you fight someone while facing away from them. She sat down in the couch, staining it a bit with the blood of the man, thinking about how to get rid of the body.
And she remembered why she killed him in the first place,
And she smiled to herself, let out a fit of giggles for forgetting why and then dragged the body to her private garage to chop him off,
Limp by, beautiful limp, knowing that no one will recognize him once she's done with him.
She dipped each limb, one by one, as watched in delight as the red wax covered the wick and the limb that was tied to it. As soon as unfinished candles touch the floor, she started cut into the candles with her tool to give it a simple designs, the right arm would have flowers on it, the left would have circles, the head and torso would be the base for all the candles to sit on and so on and so forth.
When the work was done, she places all the newly made candles at the corners of her living room, making sure that no one could realize what was under the wick and all the wax.
She then turned on the television and started clean up the place, all while wickedly smiling to herself as she listened to the news about a man recently disappeared and the only clue the police could find where he was last seen,
it was a Christmas calendar candle that was burned until the fifth number that was covered in blood at the bottom.