Do You Have Time to Kill Me Today? (2009)

A social horror project with my american neighbor Kirk Douglas Sample,

whom I in a video train to become a killer. The project was written into a

fictive crime novel and published in the danish reader's digest

magazine 'Hjemmet' in June 2009.


grip and grin 1




Hj Rolleskift (2)_1



Mixed media installation, magazine with crime story and illustration, a fake marble montre,

key chains with inscription "you're gonna die bitch", private letters, photo book and video.

Illustrations by Stig Stjernvik and novel by Dorte Roholte.

Download novel in danish Rolleskift


Crime novel by Dorte Roholte

When they started the shooting of the day in front of the property in low-end Los Angeles, where Stine was neighbors with Kirk Douglas Sample, the afternoon heat had been almost unbearable for her. But now, when it was over, she felt much better, even though the artificial blood, which was all over the breast of her T-shirt issued a nauseating odor. It was the last recording. Kirk did not have to repeatedly pretend to surprise her and cut the throat on her again.

- It's in the box and it was the last thing she said and nodded to Kirk. He still clung hard on the fake theater knife, his breathing was fast, and the sweat dripped from his upper lip. Stine had an uncomfortable feeling that it had nothing to do with heat. The role as a murderous assailant, who had been so difficult for him to play in the beginning, had gone in the blood of him.

- No, it came from him aggressively. - It was not good enough. We have to reshoot it!

Stine shook her head and tried to radiate the peace and strength that she had felt when she began her artistic film. But it was as if the roles had been reversed between them during the project. Initially, he had been awkward and uncertain, and she had felt on top and in control. Now it was almost reversed, because something had happened to him when he finally got a grip on his movie character. The last days, he had pushed to get started with the recordings, as if he almost could not wait to enter the killer role. Now she understood very well why her new American friends had warned her against being too much alone with the strange neighbor. Fortunately she had enough footage to cut the film together.

- It was perfect, she said and meant it. Then she turned her back to him and went to the expensive camera pill down. An old lady passed them with a shopping bag squeezed in her hand, she hardly reacted at the sight of Stine's bloody appearance and the man with the knife. In city of the film industry one is used to a bit of everything, Stine thought, while she tried hard not to turn around and see what Kirk was doing. However, a drug addict type of a young guy had stopped and started studying them with his hands stuck in his pockets. He wore a hooded sweatshirt, even though there were at least thirty degrees in the shade. Stine quickly glanced at him, maybe he froze because of symptoms. She got free of the camera and took a deep breath before she turned around. Then she breathed a sigh of relief . Kirk had disappeared, and had left the theater knife on the roof of her old car. While the young guy continued his attention, she carried her gear into the apartment. Then she locked the door, put the safety chain on and considered whether she should slide the window up. There was air conditioning in the apartment, but it did not work particularly well. She stood at the window and considered. Initially she had not locked the door and put on the safety chain, and she had without concerns left the window open. It was different now, and she knew not whether it was Kirk, or the much crime in the city, she was afraid of. She neither knew whether she had reason to fear anything. Hopefully not. She decided to leave the window closed, and she shook it a bit to ensure that it was locked. Although she did not trust the locks on that kind of sliding windows, it was not until recently that it had started to worry her.

... the intent of my project is to break with the usual Hollywood male-female patterns, as the female protagonist will remain unaffected by the neighbor's vigorously and repeatedly attempted murder of her and thus making herself an immortal manipulator in the video.

Darkness had fallen, while Stine was editing her written statement. She tapped her fingers against the paper and visioned Kirk. Actually she had a bad conscience about intervening in his somewhat past eventless life. It seemed as if she had roused a sleeping monster in him. Or was it just her imagination, that ran off with her?

An unexpected sound made her jump, and she listened tensely and started to sweat. No, it was nothing. She got up and went to the window to draw the curtains. About an hour and a half she had to meet a sound guy in a restaurant, and she did not have too much time if she wanted a bath. And it she had to. Still she took the time to once again make sure that the door was locked.

The water rays of the shower were few and hard and it made a loud cluncking sound down the drain when the water passed. Twice she was quite sure she could hear a sound in the apartment, and she turned off the water and stood naked, wet and with a thumping heart, and listened without daring to breathe. But the bathing curtain was not torn to the side, because there was of course no one else than her in the apartment. She turned back the water and forced herself to wash her hair properly and rinse it through without turning off the water again. If she were to continue like this, it would become unbearable for her to live in Los Angeles.

When she came into the room with the bath towel around her, she made a short cry. The curtains were not hanging in the same way when she left the room, she was quite sure of that. In a matter of no time she looked through her apartment. There was nothing missing, and there was noone else who should not be there. It was of course Kirk, she had expected to see.

She took a glass of cold water and drank it to calm down. Then she suddenly looked at the car keys. Did she really put them that way next to the sink? No, now she had to stop.

Fifteen minutes later she locked her apartment and walked towards the car without looking back towards Kirk’s windows. She was almost sure that he kept an eye on her and she thought that the heels of her sandals made a too much noise against the tiles. Not until she put the key in the lock of the car, she allowed herself to turn her head and look. She could not see him in there, the apartment was unlit and the curtains were not drawn..

The car's cabin was like an oven when she got in. There was also a strange smell, almost like sweat mixed with dust. She put the key in the ignition and was going to roll down the window when she suddenly felt something behind her. Something in the back seat, a movement at realm of her eye. At a fraction of a second her small hairs raised on her neck, and the pulse increased with rocket speed. She turned her head slightly and saw a horrific vision in the rear view mirrors. She was not alone. In the narrow mirror was a face behind her, an ugly, distorted face, which now shot forward. She screamed, so much pained in her chest as an iron hand grapped her chin. Something flashed at same time, it was the street lamp to the right of the car, which was reflected in a knife blade. Then she felt the familiar sensation of a dull blade, which was held over her neck.

- That’s how it’s supposed to be, Kirk whispered excitedly and triumphantly in her ear.

Stine grasped for breath, while a mixture of incandescent rage and strong relief washed through her.

- What the hell are you doing, you idiot! she screamed and turned around in the seat.

Kirk had gone a little further back, he rolled the nylon off his the face and laughed at her.

- Can’t you see that it is the way it should be? he repeated. - If we had had the camera on now, it would have been the best recording of them all!

Stine tried to calm herself.

- Get out of my car, she said. - And how did you get in?

Kirk’s eyes shone at her. – I took your car keys while you were showering. You probably don’t know, but I can hear the water in the drain when you take a shower. I only opened the side door, so you didn’t suspect, cause then it wouldn’t be as real, right?

And how did you get into the apartment? she wanted to ask, but stopped herself. Maybe he had a key? It was not unthinkable. Tomorrow she had to get the lock replaced.

- Get out, she said as calmly as possible.

- Aren’t you glad that I did not use blood this time? he asked and looked triumphantly. - Then you would have had to change clothes again, before you went to the restaurant. I heard you over the phone.

Stine’s lips were dry, but the tongue also, when she tried to moisten them, it did not help.

- Out! she said, turned around and tried not to squeeze too hard on the wheel.

The smell of sweat got stronger, as he bent forward and whispered in her ear: - Are you not afraid that I one day by mistake will take a very sharp knife with a blade ?

With a little laughter he left her car and slammed the door hard behind him.


At midnight a violent thunderstorm broke out out as Stine was returning from the restaurant. During no time the pavements were deserted, and she just made it inside running from the car before the violent rain began. In passing, she saw that the Kirk’s windows were dark. But as she gradually moved the curtain aside, the lights were lit inside. She immediately let go of the curtain and moved slightly back. Was it a coincidence that he came home right after her, or had he followed her? She took a few deep breaths to calm. Now she had to turn these thoughts out of your head, otherwise she would not be able to sleep tonight.

She forced herself to do her usual ritual of tooth brushing and cleansing creams, before she threw herself on the bed and put the sheets over herself. But after a while, she was nonetheless forced to get up and check that the window was closed properly and that the door was locked and the safety chain too. She went back to bed again, took her favorite sleeping position on the left side and concentrated on thinking about something nice. On a summer day back home in Denmark ... no, the snow. On being snowed inside the family's old wooden summer house, with snow lying in the big piles in the middle of the window, but with lots of wood inside and a full refrigerator.

When she abruptly woke up, she didn’t believe she had slept. But the green numbers on the alarm clock said something different. 02.43 they shined to her. She was tense as a feather and listened. Why had she woken? Maybe it was just a dream. Or rather a nightmare. But then she heard the slight scratch again and was aware that it was the sound that had woken her. Someone was moving around in the dark apartment. Kirk. In a glimpse, she was suddenly sure that it was him. That he had penetrated to live out his role completely. Horror got her to sweat and freeze at the same time. She strained her ears to determine where in the apartment he was. Now, she could also feel a wrong odeur, a smell which had not been there when she went to sleep. It was the smell of car exhaust and water on asphalt, and she could hear the sounds of the traffic outside a little clearer. He must have broken into the window. What was he doing? It sounded as if he was still inside the room as if he were looking through her things. Perhaps he was going to steal the movie, so they had to continue filming.

Silently Stine got up and just as silently she swung her bare feet down on the floor. Strangely enough, the fear was suddenly disappeared, and instead she felt much more angry and determined. The floor made a tiny bit of sound as she sneaked towards the open door, and she stopped and frowned with bated breath. But no, the weak sounds from the room were still there, she had not been discovered. Now she stood in the hallway and she could clearly feel that the living room window was open. She sensed also just as clearly another person's presence. As she glided past the open door to the room, she got a glimpse of a faint light from a mobile phone switched on, and she saw the outlines of a figure bent over her desk. But it was not Kirk. It cleared to her when she had passed the open door and was standing in the little kitchen. The figure there was high and lanky, at least one head higher than Kirk.

Would she have enough time to call the police? No, of course, she wouldn’t. She took a knife from the drawer, it made a weak metal sound. The eyes were already accustomed to the darkness so much that she took the butcher knife without having to search. She grabbed the shaft and came out again and the three steps to the open door. The figure was now occupied by pulling the drawers out of the work table.

The man twitched, as Stine turned the switch down and the room was suddenly bathed in light. He whirled around and stared at her with eyes wide open in a lean face. The hood was pulled up. She recognized him, it was the young, slim drug addict type of a guy who had seen them filming earlier today. It was obviously her gear, which had attracted him.

- Get out! Stine screamed and lifted the knife threatening high above her head. Every muscle in her body was tense. She took one step forward, and the guy let her light meter fall to the ground, crammed together and disappeared as a shadow through the window. Stine heart was throbbing, she grabbed so hard on the knife that it almost hurt her hand. All her things were tossed around, but the drug addict had not taken anything with him. Still with the knife high in the air she went to the window to close it. She noticed that the light was still lit at Kirk and in the very same moment the curtain, went up and the window was opened.

He stared straight at her and his face changed in a fraction of a second of the purest expressions of horror, Stine had ever seen. He took both hands up facing her in a prevention gesture.

- Sorry, sorry! he rambled. – Don’t hurt me, stay at your own place!

Stine winked. It was her who made him look like this. Because she was here with a knife raised high in the open window and anger shining in her eyes. Their roles were switched.

- Stine, I know, Kirk continued hecticly. - I ... I got to much into the role, I know it! And I wanted to see you become really scared, I admit it, but it is over now. Put down the knife and fall to rest, please!

Stine slowly let the knife fall, while she relaxed the shoulders. Kirk did not stop looking at the knife, but was still staring at it as Stine closed the window. She did not let go of it until the curtain was drawn again and as she gradually pushed it slightly to one side and looked out his window was again closed and dark. The lock in the window was destroyed, she would stay up the rest of the night and clean up the mess the addict had left behind. The mobile phone lay on the floor, she picked it up and entered a text message: Hey there at home. I have completed my project and am on my way back to Denmark. See you soon.