The Wrestler Stalker. Killer POV. Chapter 4. A Wrestler Serial Killer

My next assignment took me on an exciting journey to the University of North Carolina, where I was given the opportunity to cover the esteemed wrestling team. This assignment entailed diving deep into the world of collegiate wrestling, capturing the stories, struggles, and triumphs of the dedicated athletes who wore the Carolina blue.

As I stepped foot on campus, the energy in the air was palpable. The wrestling team had built a reputation for excellence, and I knew I was in for an incredible experience. The first order of business was to connect with the team’s coaching staff and gain a deeper understanding of their training regimen, strategies, and goals for the season.

I had the privilege of shadowing the team during their intense practice sessions. The sound of bodies hitting the mat, shouts of encouragement, and the constant whir of wrestling takedowns filled the training room. The dedication and discipline displayed by these athletes were truly inspiring, as each and every one of them pushed their bodies to the limits in the pursuit of perfection.

Being a part of the wrestling team meant much more than just competing on the mat. The close-knit bond shared by the wrestlers was apparent both on and off the wrestling mat. They became a family, supporting and motivating each other through the grueling training sessions and rigorous academic schedules.

In between practices, I was fortunate enough to witness how the team prepared for their matches. From reviewing tapes of previous competitions to strategizing with the coaches, the wrestlers meticulously analyzed opponents, looking for weaknesses and crafting a game plan for victory. These moments provided a glimpse into the level of dedication and mental fortitude required to excel in the world of collegiate wrestling.

When it finally came time for the matches, the atmosphere was electrifying. The stands filled with passionate fans donning Carolina blue, eagerly anticipating the battles about to unfold. The intensity of each match was palpable, as athletes poured their hearts and souls onto the mat, showcasing their skills and determination. The noise of the crowd, the cheers of teammates, and the referee’s calls merged into a symphony of wrestling fervor.

Throughout my time covering the wrestling team, I had the opportunity to interview athletes and coaches, getting to know their personal stories, dreams, and hardships. From overcoming injuries to balancing academics and athletics, each wrestler had a unique narrative that added to the vibrant tapestry of the team.

As I covered the wrestling team, there was one wrestler who caught my attention in particular. His name was Connor. Connor had a captivating presence on the mat with his dark hair, stocky athletic body, and impressive set of legs. He exuded a certain confidence and strength that made him stand out among his teammates.

Little did anyone know, however, that I had a dark secret. I had already taken the lives of three wrestlers discreetly and had managed to keep my sinister actions hidden from suspicion. The wrestling community remained unaware of the true nature of these tragedies and hadn’t linked anything and I was determined to keep it that way.

Yet, there was something about Connor that piqued my interest beyond his physical attributes. It was his jock personality, that bravado and arrogance he displayed both on and off the mat. This personality trait drew me to him in a disturbing way, igniting a disquieting desire within me to make him my next victim.

One day, as the wrestling team went on a routine run, my impulse took control. I couldn’t resist the urge any longer. Seizing the opportunity, I stealthily snatched Connor’s bag from the locker room. Inside, I found his singlet and other wrestling equipment. Without hesitation, I stashed it away in the trunk of my car, ensuring that I had an unsavory keepsake to fulfill my sinister plans.

As I watched the wrestling team continue their run, my mind became consumed with thoughts of Connor.

 Imagining various scenarios and ways to assert my control over this attractive wrestler, a twisted excitement coursed through my veins, fueling my disturbing fantasies.

Connor was the epitome of a successful wrestler both on and off the mat.

With his striking looks and athletic build, he embodied the image of a quintessential all-American jock. His popularity extended beyond his teammates, as he was adored by his peers and attracted attention from the opposite sex wherever he went.

Not only was Connor a star athlete, but he also had a vibrant personality that made him a hit amongst his teammates. He enjoyed spending time with them, whether it was cracking jokes during practice or engaging in friendly banter during team gatherings. Connor’s infectious laughter and ability to lighten the mood made him a beloved figure within the wrestling community.

Outside of wrestling, Connor’s strong family bonds were evident.

He shared a special connection with his younger brother, often engaging in playful exchanges that would leave them both doubled over in laughter. Their bond was a testament to the affectionate sibling relationship they shared.

Similarly, Connor had a close relationship with his mother. Despite his macho jock persona, Connor could be classified as a “mummy’s boy.” He valued his mother’s opinion and frequently sought her guidance on matters both big and small. Their bond was built on trust and love, with Connor often finding solace in his mother’s comforting presence.

Connor’s success in wrestling was not solely a reflection of his athletic prowess but also of the strong support system he had both within his team and his family. He was more than just a talented athlete; he was a well-rounded individual whose accomplishments extended far beyond wrestling mat.

As I discreetly observed Connor, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. I had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to approach him, and it seemed that moment had finally arrived. Connor’s evening run had become my chance to make a lasting impression.

Careful not to appear too obvious, I followed Connor from a distance, ensuring my presence went unnoticed. The anticipation grew as each step brought him closer to the ideal setting for our encounter. The evening sun cast a warm glow over the surroundings, creating an idyllic ambiance that seemed to align with my intentions.

With every stride Connor took, the knot of nerves in my stomach tightened. Would I be able to make a lasting impression on him, just as he had captivated so many others? My heart raced, but I remained determined to seize this opportunity.

As Connor reached a serene park on his running route, I knew this was the moment. The park offered a peaceful respite from the bustling world, providing the perfect backdrop for our encounter. With adrenaline coursing through my veins, I approached Connor, ready to make my presence known.

This was the chance I had been waiting for – the moment to capture Connor’s attention and spark a connection. Little did he know that his evening run had unwittingly led him closer to the possibility of an unforgettable encounter.

Connor continued his run along the trail, his legs pumping and heart pounding with each step. The sun beat down on his back, adding to the intensity of his workout. As he pushed himself further, he focused on his breathing, finding his rhythm and allowing his mind to drift.

Meanwhile, you stood hidden, observing your surroundings. The area was eerily quiet, devoid of any other individuals. The absence of anyone else bolstered your confidence, knowing that there would be no interference or witnesses to what was about to unfold.

As Connor approached your position, unaware of your presence, you felt the adrenaline surge through your veins. With swiftness and precision, you burst from your hiding place, catching him off guard. In one swift motion, you flung a ligature around his throat, tightening your grip as the fabric pressed against his windpipe.

Connor’s immediate response was to fight for his life. He instinctively struggled, desperately trying to free himself from your grasp. His body writhed and contorted, the sheer force of his movements a testament to his determination to survive. With each passing second, his resistance increased, making it more challenging to maintain your hold.

Amidst his struggle, Connor pleaded desperately for you to stop. His voice, initially strong and filled with fear, wavered as his oxygen supply diminished. Gasping and choking, his pleas became more desperate, his words intermingled with the raspy sounds of his throat constricting under the pressure.

The noises emitted from Connor’s throat were a symphony of desperation and pain. The gurgles and agonized wheezes echoed through the quiet surroundings, a haunting reminder of life slipping away from him. Each struggle for breath mingled with the feeble attempts to communicate, creating a cacophony that pierced through the air.

In the midst of this life-and-death struggle, Connor summoned all his strength, tapping into his wrestling skills and fighting with every ounce of energy he had left. The young athlete, accustomed to the physical demands of his sport, refused to go down without a fight. He pushed against the tightening grip, mustering every last ounce of strength in an attempt to break free and escape his assailant.

Despite his valiant efforts, Connor’s fight eventually began to dwindle. The lack of oxygen, combined with the relentless pressure on his windpipe, took its toll. He grew weaker and weaker, his movements growing feeble until, finally, he succumbed to the suffocating grip of the ligature. Connor’s body went limp, a chilling testament to the loss of life.

Without hesitation, you dragged Connor’s lifeless body to the trunk of your car, the weight of his once-vibrant existence an eerie burden. The act was swift and efficient, a culmination of the sinister plan that had been set in motion. As you closed the trunk, the lifeless body of the young runner hidden away, the reality of your actions settled heavily upon your conscience.

As you left the scene, the weight of what had transpired still heavy on your mind, you started the engine and began the drive back to your Airbnb. The world outside seemed to blur as your thoughts consumed you, replaying the events that had just unfolded.

In the midst of your contemplation, a flickering sea of blue and red lights caught your attention in the rearview mirror. Panic surged through your veins as the realization hit you — the police were pulling you over. Fear clenched your heart, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

The officer approached your car, and you held your breath, praying that he wouldn’t look in the trunk where Connor’s lifeless body lay hidden. Your hands trembled on the steering wheel, a mixture of anxiety and dread coursing through your veins. Each passing second felt like an eternity as the officer drew nearer, casting a searching gaze over you and the vehicle.

You handed over your ID to the officer anxiously, your mind racing with the possibilities of what might happen next. The officer walked back to his patrol car to conduct the necessary checks, leaving you to grapple with the overwhelming uncertainty. It felt like an eternity as you anxiously awaited the outcome.

With each passing moment, your worry increased. The officer’s extended absence only intensified your apprehension. Every worst-case scenario played out in your mind, each one more terrifying than the last. However, after what felt like an eternity, the officer finally returned to your car, handing back your ID with a simple “Have a good night.”

Relief washed over you in a wave. A weight you hadn’t even realized you were carrying was suddenly lifted, and you breathed a deep sigh of relief. Gratitude filled your heart as you realized how narrowly you had avoided detection. With newfound determination, you continued your drive back to your Airbnb, grateful for the chance to escape immediate scrutiny.

Though you felt a sense of temporary reprieve, the encounter with the police made you acutely aware that you couldn’t dispose of Connor’s body right away. It would be risky, and you needed to bide your time. The need for patience became apparent as you processed the potential consequences that could come from hasty actions.

Upon arriving at the Airbnb, a realization struck you. The property had a chest freezer, providing a temporary solution for the storage of Connor’s body. It would buy you time until a suitable opportunity for disposal arose. The unsettling need for a makeshift morgue did not sit well with you, but it was a necessary compromise for the moment.

Back inside, you meticulously stripped Connor of his clothing, observing the strength and agility that defined his athletic body. The gravity of the situation sank deeper as you recognized the immense loss of life and potential before you. The reality of your actions weighed heavily upon your conscience, yet the dark forces that had driven you to this point refused to release their grip.

In an eerie twist of fate, you reached for the bag you had brought along, retrieving Connor’s singlet. Slowly and methodically, you dressed him in his own wrestling attire, a cruel irony that mocked the sport he was once so passionate about. It added a macabre touch to the scene, a haunting reminder of the life extinguished.

Looking down at Connor laying lifeless in his singlet, I observed his relaxed posture and the way the fabric hugged his torso, highlighting his muscular physique. The singlet accentuated his broad shoulders and toned arms, suggesting his dedication to physical fitness. His confident demeanor and the way he carried himself in the singlet exuded both comfort and style even in death.

I took some photos of Connor and then dragged his body and placed him in the chest freezer

As I wrapped up my assignment on campus, the buzz of Connor’s sudden disappearance began to permeate throughout the campus grounds. Fueled by a combination of speculation and imagination, wild rumors swiftly spread like wildfire. Whispers and hushed conversations filled the hallways, creating an atmosphere of both apprehension and curiosity.

Some claimed that Connor had run away, seeking adventure beyond the confines of the university. Others whispered about his involvement in a scandalous affair, speculating that he had gone into hiding to escape the consequences. Gossip swirled, each rumor more sensational than the last, as students and faculty alike tried to make sense of his sudden vanishing.

However, amidst the swirling rumors and escalating chaos, nobody was aware of the terrifying truth that lay concealed within the confines of my Airbnb. The chill of secrecy clung to the air, as I carefully guarded the knowledge of Connor’s lifeless body, frozen and hidden away in the depths of a chest freezer.

While the campus buzzed with speculation, I maintained a facade of innocence, blending seamlessly with the crowd. The knowledge of my dreadful secret weighed heavily upon my conscience, reminding me of the darkness that lay hidden beneath my everyday facade. And so, as the campus community searched for answers and grasped at fragments of information, I remained the silent spectator, my secret locked away, waiting for the opportune moment to dispose of my latest victim.

As the check-out time at my Airbnb approached, I felt a sense of urgency to gather my belongings and prepare to leave. I meticulously went through the room, making sure I didn’t leave anything behind. I folded my clothes, packed my toiletries, and carefully packed my electronic devices into my bag. I double-checked the drawers and cabinets to ensure nothing was left behind. It was important to me to leave the space as clean and orderly as it was when I arrived.

Once I had gathered all my belongings, I zipped up my bag and took a final look around the room. Satisfied that I hadn’t forgotten anything, then I remembered.

It had been five days since Connor’s unfortunate demise, I knew that I had to do something about Connor’s body, which had been stored in a freezer during these days. A sense of urgency washed over me as I knew I couldn’t keep his body hidden any longer.

I made the decision to take Connor’s body from the freezer. It was a somber and unsettling moment as I had never imagined I would be involved in such a macabre task. The air around me felt heavy, and each step I took resonated with an eerie silence.

Carrying Connor’s body still in his singlet, I proceeded with caution, making sure I wouldn’t attract any suspicion from others. I chose a secluded and remote location in the wilderness, far away from prying eyes. The weight of his lifeless form made my steps slower and more deliberate.

Reaching the chosen spot, a secluded woodland creek, I placed Connor’s body down. The creek provided a peaceful resting place, half submerged in water, a tranquil spot where nature would embrace his departed soul. It felt like the right place for him to find his final peace.

Summoning all my strength and resolve, I gently placed Connor’s body in the water, ensuring it was partially submerged. As I watched the water ripple, I couldn’t help but feel relief. I knew that I had given him a final resting place, but the weight of my actions would not haunt me as he was my fourth victim.

Three weeks had passed since I had somberly placed Connor’s body in the serene woodland creek. Unbeknownst to me, a hiker stumbled upon the creek during their exploration of the surrounding wilderness. As they approached the cascading water, a chilling discovery awaited them.

The hiker cautiously approached the half-submerged body, immediately sensing something awry. The once vibrant blue colors of Connor’s wrestling singlet had faded and now bore the dullness of decay. The fabric clung tightly to his decomposing form, revealing the telltale signs of nature’s relentless progression.

After three weeks of immersion in the creek, Connor’s body had undergone significant changes. The water had taken its toll, facilitating the decomposition process. The once recognizable features of his face had decayed, leaving behind a distorted visage. His eyes, once filled with life, were now sunken and hollow.

The natural degradation of his flesh had caused a loss of definition in his physique. The wrestling singlet, once a symbol of his strength and athleticism, now hung loosely on his emaciated frame. The once taut muscles had withered away, eroded by the passage of time and the elements.

The hiker could perceive the distinct odor of decay wafting from Connor’s body, permeating the surrounding air. Insects and aquatic life had begun their work, feasting upon the remains. The texture of his decomposing skin was now bloated and discolored, the result of bacterial activity and decomposition gases building within.

It was a grisly scene that the hiker stumbled upon, one that would undoubtedly remain etched in their memory. The sight of Connor’s deteriorated and lifeless body, clad in the faded wrestling singlet, served as a grim reminder of the inexorable passage of time and the fragility of human existence.

Following the days and weeks after Connor’s body was left in the woodland creek. I looked for any news or updates, I diligently followed reports related to his disappearance. One day, while scanning through the news, a headline caught my attention: “Body found in Washburn Creek confirmed as that of missing North Carolina wrestler.”

The article featured two pictures of Connor, magnifying the painful reality of his loss. The first picture depicted him in his wrestling singlet, a visual reminder of his passion and dedication to the sport. His youthful energy and determination radiated from the image, frozen in time.

The sight of him in that singlet, now stained by the passage of time and the creek’s grip, filled me with a profound sense of pride at having killed another cocky wrestler. To see him captured in a moment of strength and vitality, juxtaposed with the knowledge of what had become of his body, was a good thought.

The second picture displayed a heart-wrenching image of Connor standing alongside his father. Their smiles captured the love and bond they shared, a testament to the strong connection between father and son. Seeing them together, the weight of what I had done intensified, knowing that this devastating loss had shattered a cherished family dynamic.

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