Duncan's Diary, Birth of a Serial Killer

Duncan is in the throes of a mid-life crisis and searching for his own identity. His problems seem no different than other men facing the same issues, but as he struggles through a divorce and the challenges of co-parenting his children, Duncan soon realizes that he feels complete inside only when he begins to secretly explore a world of torture and death-a world that only he controls. Suddenly, Duncan's life is no longer normal at all.

As Duncan deals with his newfound guilty pleasure of destruction and wickedness, his diary entries reflect a roller coaster psychological journey. Duncan grapples with the ramifications of what he is becoming, but at the same time, graphically describes the deaths of several of his victims. Clearly a man caught between his morals and an evil calling. Duncan leads a seemingly typical life during the day, but in the dark of night becomes a monster. Only one man suspects what Duncan is capable of-his best friend, Sudhir, a detective in the Palo Alto Police Department.

Despite Duncan's cries for help penned on the pages of his diary, he becomes a master at hiding his transformation from "the guy next door" to a masterful serial killer.

Again, I heard "Dude, buddy, are you okay?  Wake up."  The shaking of my arm was involuntary as if somebody were grabbing me.  My eyes felt weary as I pried them open with all my strength.  I hazily saw the boy sitting next to me.  His girlfriend stared over his shoulder.  There was a flight attendant in the aisle, and I heard the guy in the seat opposite of me whisper to the lady next to him, "That guy is screwed up."  My mind slowly grasped that I was still sitting in my chair, soaking wet with sweat, and the guy next to me was asking me again if I was okay.  "I was dreaming."  I heard myself mumble, and I shakily got up and went to the restroom.  I splashed water on my faced repeatedly, trying to bring the color back to my skin and slowly come back to reality.  It had seemed so real.  I couldn't believe it was simply a dream.  The feeling of ultimate bliss clung to me like a tattoo.  I realized I couldn't continue living without experiencing something like this for real.

My life was soon to begin.  I felt alive and nauseous at the same time as I violently threw up in the silver toilet expunging my just eaten meal.  The felling of sickness swirling with the vibrant awareness was an odd mixture and difficult for me to balance.  I slowly made my way back to my seat, as people stared at me from their wavering positions.  Leaning back in my chair, I relaxed again, allowing my breathing to return, and noticing that the couple next to me kept their distance.