I didn’t mean to; originally that is. The first time it was so casual it was almost an accident. Almost. Of course, it’s hard to justify your actions when you’re an active serial killer.

Ding! I tap the little bell on the counter as I place a freshly made plate of ribeye steak up onto the counter. Stacey, our head waitress, grabs the plate with ease and it travels to the table where a man and woman await their dinner. Now, I make my appearance. Striding out of the kitchen and into the peaceful dining area, I approach the couple. After all, talking to the victims before you kill them is most exciting.

“Hello, welcome to our esteemed restaurant. I hope you enjoy your meal tonight,” I tell them cheerily. “Ma’am,” I say to the wife. “Your food will be out shortly. Thank you for dining tonight.”

And with that, I take my leave. I quickly put some finishing touches onto the woman’s meal and slide it up onto the counter for Stacey to whisk away.

Once the plate arrives at their table, the couple digs into their well-crafted meal. I know it’s well-crafted because, obviously, I made it. And as head chef in this restaurant, all of my dishes are of the highest quality.

Casually, when they finish their entrees, I go out and personally deliver two delicately plated slices of cake. The woman delights in the beautiful edible flower that is perched atop.

Enraptured but unable to stand still I watch, I steal little glances from the kitchen as the couple finishes the meal. Soon, they’re done and they get up and leave, directing a cheery wave towards my kitchen.

After everyone, chefs included, have gone home, I finally remove my apron and gather my things. Tomorrow is Sunday, so the restaurant is closed, and I can’t wait to sleep in.

The next morning, I wake to the sound of a newspaper being thrown at my door. Bounding out of bed with rumpled hair and a big grin, I fling open my front door and snatch the paper off my front steps. I take it inside and take a seat at my kitchen counter. I pour a coffee and open the paper. As I see the front page, my smile stretches wider across my handsome features.

Splashed across the very front page again, was my hard work from the night before.

“Couple Found Dead In Their Homes,” the bold title reads. “Analysts found poison in their systems and police are now treating this as a homicide case. As related to this case, this is the seventh murder this year that has occurred in a similar fashion, though the police refuse to discuss possible suspects. No one has been apprehended and how the poison is administered is still unclear. This clever killer remains uncaptured; stay safe,” I read quietly to myself.

I feel a burst of joy, the way I do every time I read about one of my deeds in the newspaper. I especially like the end piece. Ah yes, how clever I am. How clever indeed.