#13 Debra Whitings – Fan

Staring at her through the lens, I couldn’t believe how close she was. Right there in the flesh, sleeping on her 800 thread sheets in her silk pajamas, the vision of perfection made real.

From the moment I saw her first movie, a stupid slasher flick where she played buxom dead cheerleader #2, I knew that there was nothing I wanted more than to be her. Even in that dead-end piece of tripe that the studio called a film, she shined, like a diamond among the weeds. She was only on screen for six minutes, but they showed me everything. She had style, grace, elegance and poise. Her screams conveyed the perfect blend of absolute terror and utter helplessness.

I wanted to be her. To have just one tenth that skill and beauty. It would be so wonderful and perfect to be even a little big like her.

It didn’t surprise me when she was the only actor from the film to land another part, and then another, and then another one after that. It was only a matter of time before she was the toast of Hollywood and had to beat off the movie offers with a stick.

But then she betrayed us. She quit. She just took all of that talent she was given and threw it away. Well, I’m not going to let her do that to us.

That’s why I’m here, watching her, I’ll wait for when her guards are away and she’s alone and vulnerable, the same way she’s made me, and then I’ll show her what happens to people who throw away gifts.

Category: 2011, Horror