Free Dead Men (Marie and Lotte Book 1) by Mette Glargaard Page B

At the same time, I continued my observations and refined my technique until I reached a point where I felt I had complete control over the reaction I would get. You could probably call me a behaviorist. There may be people like me in high-paying positions in some of the leading marketing agencies; they use only what they see and follow up on it. It must make them deeply sad and lonely people.
    In the beginning it was just a game that was about achieving the desired and specific reactions and the results would only be used for my own research, but as I became more practiced and refined my methods, I began to think about what I really was getting out of it. Could I start using my newfound skills to actually achieve what I truly wanted?
    As time passed, it became almost a sport to win the trust of others before I hurt them. It was easy and it felt natural for me, even when I was only 16 and a boy at school said he loved me. In the beginning I was very pleased that I had caused him to fall in love with me, but there was something missing. So I tortured him with rejections; and finally I said to him that he would get a real kiss if he drank a carton of coffee creamer all at once.
    One evening he showed up outside my window in the apartments where I lived and began to drink the cream. But when he was only half-finished he had to give up and threw up right in front of me, humiliated and deprived of his burgeoning manhood; that was what I really enjoyed. I felt pride swell in my chest as I considered the power I possessed to manipulate another human so far as to get them to demean and ridicule themselves ... for me. Some years later I found out that the experience was even better than sex.
    So my Christmas present to myself, every year, is to go to the Christmas gatherings and play my own Christmas play while I used my connections. I explored the terrain for a possible exchange, but then it was not about wanting anyone to die. I just wanted them to be sad and angry when I hurt them; only very special people in my life have deserved to die.
    No one knew what I really did, they saw only that I was good for getting in touch with the right people and I had a good network. There was a sharp division between the people I showed my smiling, extroverted side to, they could be used to make useful connections that I later toyed and played with. These subsequent victims of my manipulation constituted the substance from which I downloaded my power and domination, the ones who aroused the feelings I cultivated and enjoyed when I was alone at home. It was particularly interesting to observe how my victims rarely stood up for what I had done to them. Shame is a really powerful means of control.
    I was a cheerful, social and tactful woman, but also the icy, calculating hunter, with complete focus on my prey, determined to use all means to achieve my goal. After my husband died, I discovered some abilities which made it unnecessary to take part in much socializing. Now I could smell the predators, select them and focus solely on them. It was like going from wandering around in the dark to getting night vision glasses and suddenly being able to see the contours of the things that moved.
    Among a group of people I could, by going close to those I suspected to be predators, simply and clearly smell if it was true. Often I could spot them from a distance, not because of my sixth sense, but because they often had an extremely neat appearance and a tendency to use too much aftershave or deodorant. I found they were very much of a type, looking smooth with perfect straight white teeth and not a hair out of place. They always wore the right clothes, had beautifully manicured nails and a body language that exuded confidence and tranquility. I lost the desire just to hurt others and make them sad, and began to focus on my real goal in life.
    Later I became aware that a slick appearance was not always a guarantee the person would be a predator, but that a