It is Tuesday morning; Linda has not seen George since Friday morning. He promised her then to give her a date on when he was going to come over for dinner, but she never got the chance to talk to him again because of work. She went to his department Friday evening, but one of his coworkers had said that he has just left for the day. She debates with herself on whether he has been deliberately avoiding her. She tells herself no with the thought that it is probably just work. After all he works on the fifth floor and she works on the seventh. True too, she has been very busy the past couple of days, with three babies being added to intensive care since Sunday. But she tells herself that she is going to make a special effort to see him today. She goes to his department and asks him again if he's ready to set a date for their dinner. He tells her to see him Thursday that right now he has to go out to the University of New Orleans for a two day seminar on CPR and will not be back at the hospital until Thursday. He leaves hoping she will just forget about it.

George does not check in at Ochsner Wednesday; he goes straight to UNO and the seminar.

It is nearing eight in evening. George Hoover and Dave Pierce are sitting at a table in the den playing their usual Wednesday game of chess. Next to them on the table there are two glasses and two empty plates with the remains of cherry pie on them. The glass next to Dave is empty; the one next to George still has some milk in it. Dave's wife is in the kitchen; their two daughters are in the living room watching television.

"Bishop takes rook pawn, check. That's a sacrifice, George. You're not going to be able to stop my attack; your queen is out of position.

"Yes, I see that," George answers him.

"Looks like I've beaten you again. That's two in a row. What's wrong with you tonight? I don't think I've ever beaten you like this before in the two years we've been playing."

"My minds on something else, Dave, I'm not concentrating."

"No, I don't believe you are. Anything that I can help you with?"

"No. Look, I'm going to call it a night, Dave. I'll feel better next week. Then you won't be so daring with your sacrifices."

"OK, George. Good night."

"Good night. Tell Darlene I said thanks for the cherry pie."

"I will."

No, tonight isn't a night that George wants to play chess. Nor is it a night that he wants to eat that bitch's cherry pie. He hates that woman; he hates all women. According to him, women are only good for cleaning house and cooking, and some of them aren't even good for that. Those kinds are only good for punishing for making his life so miserable. No, tonight George has other, more important things on his mind. He has to get Linda off his mind. He has to go to the French Quarter and find himself another prostitute. Tonight he has to go out and find himself another whore to punish and to kill.

"They didn't find the first one, the one I threw into the river last week," he says to himself as he walks across the lawn between their two houses. "But I won't make that mistake again. After I finish with this one I'm going to leave it on police Lieutenant Dave Pierce's front lawn. What will the bitch Darlene think about that? I wonder if she'll still want to bake a cherry pie once she seen the body? I hate that bitch. Why Dave puts up with her I'll never know. Maybe he likes fucking her. I'd fuck her. I'd fuck her with a cattle prod up her pussy. See if she likes that. I hate that woman; I hate all women. They ain't good for anything except punishing. They ain't good for anything except killing."

His thoughts are interrupted when he puts his hand into his pocket and realizes that he has left his keys on the table in his next door neighbor's house. He walks back across the lawn only to see Darlene coming out her front door with his keys in her hand.

"You'll need these won't you, George," she said with a warm smile.

"Yeah, thanks, Darlene," he smiles back.

"Dave said you weren't feeling well. Can I get you something? An aspirin maybe?

"No thank you, all I need right now is some rest. I'll feel better in the morning. I'm going to bed early tonight," he lies.

"OK, good night. Hope you feel better."

"Good night," he answers and he gives her another smile. He watches her go into her front door, and then he heads for his side door around the corner and is glad he has gotten into the habit of using it instead of his front door. He has the corner house and using the side door prevents that bitch from seeing him come and go.

Two and a half years earlier Dave and Darlene Pierce moved into the house next door to George Hoover. For two of those years he has been playing chess every Wednesday evening with Dave while Darlene does whatever she does to make herself happy and their two children do their homework or watch television or something. He doesn't care what they do; he just enjoys beating Dave at chess. But he hates that bitch. That bitch, that's how he has always referred to her in his thoughts. He hates the way she walks, the way she combs her short cropped hair, the clothes she wears. He hates everything about that bitch. Her blonde hair reminds him of his mother's short cropped blonde hair. Also, Darlene is taller than him by at least four inches, just like his mother.

"Someday," he says to himself, "I'm going to do that bitch Darlene just like I did those other whores. And my first one is still buried in her own precious flower bed along side the house," he laughingly says to himself. "Imagine that, my mother is buried right under Darlene's bedroom window and that bitch doesn't even know it."

He gets into his car and drives toward the French Quarter so that he can get himself another whore to kill, so that he can forget about Darlene and his mother and Linda. On his way there he thinks about his mother. He wonders why no one ever questioned her disappearance. He does not care.

It is Thursday morning a few minutes before seven. As he does every Thursday morning, George is putting out his garbage when he sees Dave come out his front door. The New Orleans police lieutenant seems to be in a rush. George ignores this and asks him why he is out so early. He knows that Dave rarely leaves his house before eight unless he is on a call.

"Some kids found a body in the river in the back of Audubon Park. From what the attending officers tell me, it looks like she's been in the water for about a week. But that isn't the worst of it. He beat her and tortured her before he killed her. I've got to go. Talk to you later."

"Yeah, I'll see you later, Dave. Good luck."

"Thanks, I'll need it."

"Is that my whore," George says to himself when the lieutenant has gone. "Is that the bitch I did last week? No, it can't be. I can't be that lucky that they've found my whore in such a short period. But then Dave said that she had been beaten before she was murdered. Oh, I hope it's my prostitute they found. I'll have to ask Dave more about her when I see him again this evening."

In his excitement George forgets all about the rest of his garbage and goes back inside. He goes to the punishment room where his newest victim is lying on her stomach stretched out on the blood stained floor. She is naked and gagged; her torn clothing is lying in a heap in the corner.

Her feet are shackled to the ends of a three foot long metal rod. The rod is running through an eyebolt in the floor at her feet. She is handcuffed at the wrists. The cuffs are looped through a large D ring which is attached to a cable. The cable is stretched across the bare floor to the opposite wall near the closet. It runs through a pulley up to the ceiling and through a second pulley. From there the cable runs back across the room through an eyebolt directly above the young woman. The cable is hanging down with the other end attached to the same ring to which the prostitute's wrists are handcuffed.

She has been lying on the floor stretched out since George brought her here the previous evening, powerless to do anything except struggle against the cables. When she sees him she lets out a muffled scream. He ignores her.

He walks over to the closet and pulls on the cable that is running across the ceiling, forcing her to stand up. He continues to pull on the cable until only her toes are touching the wooden floor. He hooks the cable in place. He walks over to her and grabs her by the hair, staring blankly into her face. She looks back at him bewildered and imploringly. He punches her hard in the stomach several times. She squeezes her eyes shut, groans, and gags, nearly vomiting.

Then he goes to the other side of the room and picks up the new leather whip. He beats her with it. She grimaces in pain and tries to turn away from the blows. But the shackles and cables prevent her from escaping his torment. He hits her again and again until she surrenders and hangs motionless and crying. When he finally stops, there are deep red welts all over her naked body, on her back, her legs, her buttocks, her chest, her arms, her stomach, her vagina; several of them are bleeding. He throws the whip across the room and inspects the prostitute's wounds.

Then he picks up a ten inch piece of broom stick and rams hard it into her vagina. The pain brings a muffled cry from deep within her throat. He pulls it out until only the tip is still within her and then he rams it hard back into her again. Again and again he rapes her with the dildo, ignoring her muffled cries. He continues torturing and raping her until his arm is tired. Then he backs away from her, leaving the broom stick stuck deep in her vagina. He watches her squirm in pain.

"You'll live," he tells her. Then he leaves the room and goes into the kitchen to fix himself some breakfast. He wonders whether or not he should cook up a bowl of oatmeal for the whore. He decides against it. She won't be alive long enough to enjoy it. He fries himself some eggs and sausage. When he finishes he carefully puts the dirty dishes in the sink and goes to work.

He is a physical therapist at Ochsner Hospital. It does not take him long to get to work; it is only about a fifteen minute drive from Airline Park where he lives. He enjoys helping people learn how to reuse their limbs after an accident. It gives him a sense of accomplishment to see them succeed, to see them walking again or writing again. In fact, his job would be perfect if it were not for that bitch Linda. He hates that nurse. She's about his age and has only been employed about a month. But she is always putting her ugly nose into everybody's business, especially his business. Why she doesn't leave him alone he does not know.

"If that bitch doesn't leave me alone and keep her nose out of my business, I'm going to kill her too," he says to himself as he pulls into the employee parking lot.

About midmorning Linda asks him if he would like to join her for lunch. She wants to find out if he is avoiding a dinner date with her or is it her imagination. George asks her where she would like to go to eat. She tells him that anywhere is OK; he suggests that they go to a nearby fast food restaurant. She agrees and they have lunch together. She tells him that she has been divorced for about two years and is looking to fill a void in her life. She tells him that she hasn't dated since her divorce, but George ignores the hint. When the conversation turns to a dinner date with her, he tells her that he has something important to do this evening but to see him Friday. He hates her. He wishes she would just leave him alone.

When he gets home he immediately goes to the punishment room to see his newest victim. When he enters the room she looks at him with hate in her eyes. The broom stick is on the floor in front of her; he picks it up and smacks her hard on her vagina with it. She pulls on the cable and tries to get loose, but the cables prevent much movement. He punches her in the face, splitting her lower lip open. Some of her blood is on his knuckles.

"You whore," he yells at her. "You'll pay for that." Then he picks up the whip and shows it to her. She shakes her head in horror and muffles a scream. The first whack wraps around her back and engulfs her right breast. She lets out another muffled scream. He continues to beat her until she stops trying to escape the blows and just hangs and grimaces each time he hits her with the whip. She is exhausted and breathing weakly. She is so weak that can barley raise her head. Her body is streaked with sweat and blood.

He leaves the room and comes back with a cigarette lighter and a metal pie pan full of metal letters of the alphabet. He puts the pan on the floor and picks up a "W" with a pair of pliers and begins to heat it with the cigarette lighter. At first she does not understand what he is doing. But as the letter turns orange and then red, she realizes what he is going to do and she cries out in another muffled scream. He ignores her. She looks at him in horror and her eyes beg him for mercy.

"You're a whore and I'm going to let the whole world know it, bitch," he says to her. Then he presses the red hot "W" to her right breast just above her nipple. She screams as loud as the gag will allow her. Then she cries uncontrollably. He tells her to shut up, but she will not stop crying. He punches her in the face, breaking her nose. She hangs her head down and watches her own blood drip onto the floor. He picks up an "E" with the pliers and brands her with it right above the left nipple. She only grimaces in pain. Next he burns an "O" directly in the middle of her chest. Then he evenly spaces an "H" and an "R" between the other letters, spelling the word "WHORE" across her chest.

She has quit crying but screams a muffled scream each time he brands her with another letter. She is too weak to do anything except hang from the shackles. She can only hang there and hope for mercy. When he is finished branding her, he takes off his clothes, sits on the floor in front of her, and masturbates. She watches him mix his semen with her blood on the floor. After, he goes to the kitchen to fix supper for himself.

After he finishes eating, he dresses and goes next door to see if Darlene has any cherry pie left from last night. But his real reason for going next door is to see if he can get any more information about the body found in Audubon Park this morning. Darlene invites him inside. One of her daughters is practicing her music lessons on the piano; the other appears to be doing homework on the computer in the den.

While he is waiting he asks Dave about the body. The Lieutenant tells him that they do not know much about the woman only that she was tortured before she was murdered. George asks him how he knew that and Dave tells him that there are marks around her wrists and ankles, indicating that she was bound, and that there are whipping scars and bruises all over her body. He also says that from the marks and bruises on her vagina he believes she was attacked sexually, but he'll have to wait for the coroner's report before he can be more definitive.

Then Dave tells George that the most identifying mark on the victim is that she is branded across the chest with the word "WHORE." George closes his eyes and winces in mock horror at hearing this. But inwardly he is elated that they found his body, his prostitute. He can hardly wait to get back to his house and his new victim. Dave tells him that for evidence reasons he cannot tell him much. George says that he understands. As soon as Darlene brings the pie he thanks her and leaves.

George puts the pie on the kitchen table and immediately goes to the punishment room. He takes off his clothes and again begins to masturbate in front of the prostitute. As he masturbates he picks up the broom stick and plunges it into her anus. She moans quietly in agony. He continues raping her and masturbating until he has an orgasm, squirting his sperm onto her buttocks. He picks up her blouse from the corner and wipes his semen off her. He continues to rape her with the broom stick. When he is satisfied he removes the dildo from her; it is smeared with blood and feces. He drops it at her feet. He walks over to the closet and unhooks the cable that is attached to her wrists and lowers her to the floor, leaving her lying on her stomach. He leaves the room with her crying softly and groaning in agony.

Friday morning he comes into the room to check on his prostitute. She is lying on her stomach on the floor, not moving. George wonders if she is dead or alive. He walks over to her and kicks her in the side. She squeezes her eye lids tight and grimaces in pain. "Time to wake up to your punishment my little whore," he tells her. Then he walks across the room and picks up the whip and beats her with it until he is exhausted. Her back, buttocks, and thighs are crimson with fresh welts and blood.

She has endured her torment in silence. He throws the whip across the room and picks up the broom stick. He plunges it into her anus and repeatedly rapes her with it. She grunts in agony with each thrust into her. When she faints from the pain he stops. He walks out of the room, leaving the dildo sticking out of her anus. When he gets to the door he looks back at her and sneers. "Fucking whore, I'll finish you tonight," he says in disgust. Then he leaves for work.

As he pulls into the employee parking lot at the hospital, Linda welcomes him with a smile. He smiles back at her and politely asks her how her evening went. He is half hoping she will ask him how his evening went so that he can tell her about how he punished his whore. Then he could invite her into his house so that he could beat her too. She tells him that she spent the evening alone watching a boring movie; she mentions that it would not have been boring if she had someone to share it with. He ignores her subtle invitation.

She tells him that she is having pork roast and mashed potatoes for dinner tonight, his favorite. She asks him if he would like to join her. He tries to beg off as he has something he wants to do this evening. But she reminds him that he already begged off dinner before on his favorite meal and that she would hate to see the pork roast go to waste. George feels trapped. He doesn't want to go to her house for dinner; he wants to do his prostitute. He hates this bitch. Why doesn't she leave him alone? He reluctantly agrees to have dinner with her. Maybe then she will leave him alone. She gives him the address, telling him to come for about seven, and to bring a bottle of wine.

When he arrives she greets him at the door wearing a black satin tank top and matching bolero skirt. Her feet are bare and she is braless. George can just barely see her nipples through the thin material. The sight excites him and there is a stirring in his groin. He wonders if she has any panties on as he hands her a bottle of rose' wine; it is already cold. He tells her he purchased it when he got off work and put it in his freezer. Linda gets some glasses and they each have a glass of wine before eating. She tells him that she just put the string beans on and it will take about five minutes before they are ready.

They are sitting on her sofa in the living room. George is very uncomfortable; this is the first date he has been on since Donna. But he does not let his emotions show. He tells her what a lovely house she has. She offers to show him the rest of it while the beans warm. He declines and she tells him that he can see it after dinner. She then gets up to check on the beans. She returns and announces in a very sexy voice that dinner is ready.

Dinner passes in small talk about the ups and downs of life in the hospital. George also tells her that she is a good cook; the pork roast is cooked just right. After dinner Linda suggests they relax on the sofa. She pours them each another glass of wine and then offers a toast to their future. He smiles at her and looks into her eyes. They are the same as Donna's. "To our future," he says.

She moves closer to him and momentarily glances down at her breasts. Then she looks up into his eyes. She smiles and leans slightly forward, trying to give him a better view of her cleavage. She wants him to kiss her; she wants him to spend the night with her making love. He suspects this and becomes angry at her. 'She's nothing but a whore,' he says to himself. He hates her.

"Linda," he says apologetically, "I want us to go slow. I don't want to rush into anything, something we both might later regret. I like you; I don't' want to hurt you. Before we go further, I want to make sure that we are right for each other." His lies hide his real reason for refusing her advances. He doesn't want to get involved with someone who will only later break his heart. He doesn't want to fall in love with somebody who will only turn out to be just another whore. He doesn't want another Donna.

Linda says that she understands and she agrees with him. She tells him that she is just getting over a tough divorce and that she too doesn't want to get hurt in a romance. Although secretly she doesn't believe what he says. She speculates as to what his motives are for not dating anyone, for not wanting to have sex with her. She gave him enough hints. She wonders whether or not he is a closet homosexual.

After about twenty more minutes spent in small talk, George excuses himself and goes home; it is almost 8:30. He ignores Linda's hint and does not kiss her good night, which only increases her bewilderment towards him. When he arrives home he goes to the punishment room.

The broom stick is still sticking out of her anus. He pulls it out and hits her buttocks several times with it. He wipes the blood off the dildo onto her cheeks before throwing it across the room. Then he picks up the whip and again beats her with it. She endures the torture in silence, only occasionally grimacing and whimpering. She is too weak to do anything else.

He picks up one of her stockings and wraps it tightly around her neck. Before she dies he unshackles her. Then he drags her by the stocking around her neck into his garage. He throws her lifeless body into the trunk of his car. Then he drives to the Lower Ninth Ward near the Industrial Canal and dumps her body in vacant lot where she can be easily found. He throws her clothing in a dumpster a few blocks away. But the body isn't found until early Sunday morning when it is noticed by a jogger.