Helen

“The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; men alone are quite capable of every wickedness.” --Joseph Conrad

Evil incarnate never truly dies.

Sure, I fell from the 4th floor of an apartment building and got impaled on the spires of a wrought iron fence, and soon followed death. But that’s just the body. The shell.

I was far, far from done with her.

It took me 18 years to find another suitable body. Male, relatively healthy, and most importantly, won’t be missed.

Helen. Ah, sweet Helen, the object of my desire. It took a bit of searching, but Google was now my friend apparently. Helen was married, living in rural South Carolina (a far cry from NYC), with two kids and a part-time job.

Helen had been my pet project years ago. I watched her while she worked. I rode the bus with her. I walked behind her to her apartment building in NYC. I had hidden cameras installed in her apartment and watched her. All. The. Time. While she cooked. While she ate. While she slept. And when she pleasured herself, it was mutual. One night, I visited Helen and her roommate, and a lot of great sex took place. Well, I thought it was great. We won’t talk about the police and me jumping out the fourth-story window.

Galivants Ferry is a sleepy town of 8,000 people in the rural eastern section of South Carolina. Helen lived with her husband Tom who was a partner at a small law firm. She worked part-time at a local bank. Her kids were 17 and 16, a girl Olivia and a boy Jakob.

Setting up surveillance inside the house was a piece of cake. They had maybe 10 acres, a bunch of corn, and I’m guessing someone else came in and took care of it. But it provided cover for me when I visited the house three days in a row. The first day, I admit, I spent most of it just browsing through the house. I knew exactly how much time I had, knew when Helen would be home, knew when the kids would be home, down to the minute. I’d watched the house, and them, discretely from the cornfield.

I started with the boy Jakob. Not much there, didn’t have time to get into his computer, but did find his small stash of pot and the cum rag he jacked off into. Moved to Olivia, found her diary, scanned through it, saw that she had sex a few times, almost got pregnant, and tucked that info away for a rainy day. Found some of her panties in the laundry; she had a light, quite pleasant scent. I felt a stirring between my legs. Might need to look deeper into her in the future.

The rest of my time was spent in the master bedroom. I looked through Helen’s drawers, checked out her bras, her panties, then went into the bathroom. I used her toothbrush to brush my teeth, then afterward I combed my pubic hair. Anything for Helen.