by Jaden Wilkes
“What does that mean,” she asked, twirling a long strand of her thick, wavy hair around her finger. I lost my train of thought watching her, imagining her fingers wrapped around my cock, her thumb in my mouth, her nails digging into my flesh as I bit down and came inside of her.
“Sylvia Plath, her poem Daddy,” I replied and didn’t see any recognition dawn on her face. She definitely needed to be schooled on so many levels. “You should check it out, I believe it would resonate with you.”
“Would it explain…this?” she said and nuzzled into my chest. Her hair tickled me and I fell a little farther in love. She smelled like rain. Or grassy fields after a rain. God, I didn’t know, she just smelled fucking good.
I was reduced to being an idiot around her, an idiot in love.
“It might,” I replied, knowing what she meant. She meant me, us, her acceptance of my predilections. “It’s natural though, you being attracted to me. The thing is, every woman adores a pack leader, it’s coded in our human DNA. No matter what our culture tells us about sensitive men and equality of the sexes, there’s something about a violent man that speaks to you on a cellular level.”
“Is that why I ended up with somebody like Billy? And stayed even though he was such a psycho?” she asked.
“That’s not the same thing at all,” I told her, “he harmed you, and had you ever gotten pregnant, he would have harmed your children. I mean somebody who would care for you and somebody who would destroy the world if it meant keeping you safe.”
“And you would do that for me?”
“I already have,” I replied and kissed her. She lifted her leg and flopped it over mine, nuzzled my chest and slowed her breathing.
Within moments she was sleeping and I knew I’d follow her soon enough.
It was perfect, the two of us there like that. It was perfect and wondrous and it terrified me.
Only because I didn’t know how long I could hold off. I didn’t know how long I could last.
How long before I needed to kill again.
Chapter Eleven
Patty Wilson
Sarah wouldn’t stop screaming and Patty was out of coke. Jason had promised to be here by now, to pick her up for the night, but he wasn’t and he apparently wasn’t answering his texts.
Fucking prick.
She shook Sarah on her lap and chewed her lower lip until she felt a little hot rush of blood on her tongue.
Sarah got louder.
“Keep that baby quiet,” her mother screamed from the living room, “we’re trying to watch Pawn Stars!”
“I’m trying!” Patty yelled back and rolled her eyes. She shushed Sarah and tried singing to her, but none of the words came to her. She couldn’t even calm down enough to think of the tune.
She needed coke.
She put Sarah back in her crib and put her pillow over the baby’s face, just to muffle the crying, not to hurt her.
She texted Jason again.
“WTF where are you J?”
She watched her phone, willing it to vibrate his reply, but she got nothing.
She reached in and took the pillow off Sarah’s face and tossed it on her narrow, messy bed.
She couldn’t wait. She was afraid of who she would become if she stuck around Sarah without coke.
A wave of guilt washed over her, she was such a shitty mom. The only way she could stand her own baby was when she was high.
And the only way she could afford to be high was to sell her ass for Jason.
She’d been back on the streets for a couple weeks now. School was starting to slip and she was starting to look trashy again. It wasn’t any one thing or another, just a general aura. Fucking trash, that’s all she was and that’s all she was worth.
“I gotta go out now,” she told her mom and John as she grabbed her jacket and swung her purse over her shoulder.
“No, I told you we can’t watch her tonight,” her mom said, “we’re both going to bingo. You knew this, Patty; I can’t watch your fucking mistake. I can’t let it ruin my life.”
“Come on mom,” Patty whined, “if I can’t work, I can’t pay the rent.”
“Then you can move your ass out,” her mom replied, “and take that fucking baby with you.”
“I’ll watch her,” John said. He was a pig, but Patty always believed he was a genuinely nice guy. She should be wigged out by a dude wanting to spend time with her little baby girl, but she never got those vibes from John. Besides, even if she did, the coke monkey on her back would force her to ignore them.
“Thank you John,” Patty said and booked it out of there before her mom started screaming at John for ruining their plans. She’d be fine going to bingo on her own, and John would probably enjoy the evening alone at home watching his Bigfoot shows and eating pizza he ordered in.
Sarah would be okay.
She took the bus to the train and went to Chico’s taco place. Nobody had seen Jason.
She hopped back on the train and went to his usual territory, where he ran a couple girls. Nobody had seen him, but she spotted Nancy, an old drag queen with a heart of gold and a bad meth addiction a few blocks down. Nancy was hard to miss in her neon pink ball gown and feather boa. She’d be more at home on the Vegas strip.
“Hey Nancy, you seen Jason around?” Patty asked.
Nancy looked stricken and shifted her eyes back and forth, as if reluctant to answer. “Shit, girl. You don’t know?”
“Don’t know what? He was supposed to come pick me up tonight and bring some stuff for our baby.”
“He’s gone. He left with Tennille. They’re in Seattle, Tennille’s uncle has got a place up there, some garage or oil change place. He’s going to let Jason work there and the two of them are going to settle down.”
All the air went out of Patty’s lungs and she didn’t know how she would suck in her next breath. Hot, fat tears sprung to her eyes and started to roll down her cheeks. She finally choked in a huge gasp and said, “Are you kidding me? What the fuck? How could he do this?”
“Tennille’s pregnant, she’s having his baby.”
“But I have his baby! Why didn’t he want to take care of me? Why her? He doesn’t even like her?”
Nancy put her arms around Patty and started to rub her back. “I’m so sorry, girl, I’m so sorry. He’s a dirt bag, you’ll find somebody better.”
“I doubt it,” Patty moaned, “A fuck up like me? Oh my god, what am I going to do?”
“You need anything? I’ve got a little of this, and a little of that. What’s your poison?”
Patty pulled back and dried her tears on the sleeve of her jacket. “You got any blow?”
“A tad,” Nancy smiled and reached into her ample cleavage to pull out a little plastic bag of white powder. “Knock yourself out, sweetheart. And remember, just when you think life can’t get any worse, things will turn up. It always gets better.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” she smiled and took the bag. She didn’t even bother ducking into an alley or gas station bathroom, she dipped her little finger in and snorted, one for each nostril.
Immediately the edge was gone, the razor sharp need that was her constant companion lately receded and left her feeling…normal.
“Thank you,” she said to Nancy and left to sell her ass…for herself this time. After all, with Jason out of the picture, she could keep the profits herself and take Tennille’s walk. This might end up being a good thing after all.
She tucked the rest of the coke in her bra and pulled out her phone as she walked. She went through and systematically deleted every single one of Jason’s texts.
Fuck him, and fuck that fat cunt Tennille. She hoped the baby came out Mexican or something, just to fuck with that loser Jason.
She shoved the phone back in her pocket and looked up. She hadn’t realized how long she’d walked and she didn’t recognize the street she was on.
She grabbed the coke and snorted another couple bumps, just to clear the f
og from her mind.
It suddenly occurred to her, she was in an industrial area in Northwest Portland. The area was deserted, and if she wanted to make a little fast cash, she needed to head back out south and to her regular haunts.
She turned around, tucked her hands in the pocket of her jacket and started the brisk walk out of there.
Bright lights cut the darkness and she heard the purr of a high-end engine behind her.
She turned as the car slowed down. It was something expensive, a Jaguar or Mercedes. Whatever it was, it looked rich and probably belonged to some old dude. But old dudes needed their cocks sucked sometimes, and if they could afford a car like that, they could pay a little extra for the privilege.
She couldn’t believe her luck when the window glided down and a hot, young guy leaned over to peer out at her through the passenger side.
“You’re too beautiful to be out on a night like this,” he said. His voice was rich and deep, and obviously highly educated.
“I’m just going for a walk, but I got turned around,” she said and suddenly felt dirty and ratty and underclassed in the face of such a fine gentleman.
“Why don’t you hop in and I’ll give you a ride?” he said and motioned for her to open the door. “A gorgeous thing like yourself shouldn’t be wandering the streets on your own. It’s not safe.”
She reached for the door handle and Nancy’s words came echoing back in her head. Maybe her luck was changing for the better.
It was worth a chance, so she opened the door and got in.
Things were looking brighter already.
Chapter Twelve
Jude
She was so needy. I never expected that after I rocked her world, her words not mine; she’d need me so damn much.
Four days passed and we fucked every night, and one time well into the morning. She was delicious and stunning, an absolute beauty in every sense of the word, but every once in a while I felt the rage rise up inside of me and I’d retreat to my office to get away from her for a few moments.
I always locked her back in her room during the day when I was at work or in the evening when I needed a break.
At the moment I was pacing around my desk, clenching my fists and gritting my teeth.
It wasn’t her, it was me. I knew that but it still didn’t alleviate the urge to fucking slash her throat as I fucked her.
I loved her though.
See? Complicated. So fucking complicated.
There are no love songs that speak to this particular situation though. No self-help books that teach me breathing methods or visualizations to prevent me from cutting the throat of the woman I love.
I was on a solo mission and Pet’s life was at stake. My success or failure was literally life or death for my beautiful girl.
I sat down and opened the top desk drawer. I got the key and felt underneath for the hidden compartment, slid the key inside, and popped open the little space just under the top drawer. It contained several wrinkled, softened, preserved nipples. From most of my victims, there were a couple times I’d gotten too involved in other activities that I’d forgotten to take a reminder…or the death hadn’t been satisfactory as in the case of Noreen who’d expired all on her own. She’d defied me, stolen the moment of my glory; therefore I didn’t want to remember her.
I rolled one in between my thumb and forefinger and narrowed my eyes. There was no way to tell which one belonged to which girl, but I was certain this had come from a particularly hot little red head I’d chosen outside a Seattle nightclub years ago.
She’d really struggled; she’d taken the longest to accept the gift I had given her, the gift of immortality, of being forever beautiful.
I’d ended up with scratches that time, all over my neck and shoulders and two along my cheek.
I think I’d told my employees that I had gotten attacked while volunteering at a cat rescue.
They’d bought it. Fucking hilarious, the thought of me caring for rejected cats made me chuckle to this day.
The only pussy I was after didn’t usually fight back.
My cock hardened in my pants thinking of her face when she’d finally accepted that moment of death. Every one of them, no matter how hard they struggled or how much they cried, always came to a point of ethereal acceptance.
They all stopped fighting me at the last moment. Their deaths, no matter how much snot and tears and screaming horror covered their face, were inevitably serene.
This is how I knew I was doing them a favor, giving them a gift.
At the end of all things, they always wanted it as much as I did.
I set the nipple back with the rest and rubbed my cock through the fabric of my trousers. I thought of Pet just down the hall, hot, naked and willing underneath me, but it didn’t alleviate the pressure building behind my eyes.
I rubbed my forehead to ease the tension, but it didn’t work.
I didn’t want to fuck her, I didn’t want to jerk off, I didn’t want to have a hot bath and listen to Michael Bolton while soaking my cares away.
Not that any of us would ever want to do that last one, but you know.
I didn’t want to do any of these things because I had one thought on my mind, one thought that raced around the front of my head like a frightened bird flapping against the windows of a house trying desperately to get away.
I wanted to kill.
I needed to kill.
***
I don’t even know exactly how I ended up cruising the streets by my warehouse. I hadn’t meant to come down here; I’d left the apartment with the intent to pick up some treats for Pet. I believed that if I focused on my love for her, then I could escape the intense pain of the red heat growing inside of me.
I’d been wrong.
I wasn’t exactly looking for a girl when I saw her. In fact I had convinced myself to turn back, go to Wendy’s and get Pet one of those frosty shake things she loved so much.
I was going to watch her pucker her lips, curl her tongue around the straw, and suck the thick chocolate ice cream into her perfect mouth.
I was going to stroke myself while she drank, then demand that she wrap those lips around my cock and drink me the same way.
Maybe with a little frozen beverage left in her mouth.
I was going to assault my senses with Pet, assault my brain and my red heat with images of her, the scent of her, the taste of her and the touch of her…but I found this girl instead.
I pulled up beside her and she was utterly perfect. She looked a little trashed, but under her make-up and thick jacket she was beautiful.
I offered her a ride and felt a little thrill at the wide grin she had on her face when she got in my car.
We made small talk, came up with a price that was so outrageous that her eyes widened in smug delight that she had hit the big time, and drove back to the warehouse.
I made the usual pretense about needing to pick up a couple things, hey, let’s get down and dirty right there.
She seemed reluctant to go inside, so I told her, “I don’t trust the homeless people around here, not enough to leave you alone. My mother would kill me if I left a girl on her own. Especially such a beautiful one.”
“That’s really kind of you,” she said and looked at her phone again. It seemed she was obsessed with the device.
“Are you expecting a call?” I asked. Shit, I hope she wasn’t expected somewhere. Home, or meeting her pimp. I did hate the girls who had people who cared. People who noticed when they disappeared.
“Naw,” she said, “just a text about homework.”
“Homework?” I asked. Double shit, I hated taking them too young. It felt pervy somehow, and I wasn’t a common perv, I was more of an artist really.
“Don’t worry, I’m eighteen. I’m back at school to get my GED so I can go to college some day,” she told me. Neither one of us was convinced. She was on the verge of dropping out, if she attended any classes at all.
“Good for y
ou,” I said and opened the door to the warehouse.
We walked through the large, open space to my converted office. I paused when I opened the door to the killing room, giving her time to run perhaps? I wasn’t sure if I was interested in killing her for the sexual release I usually got, or if I was simply going through the motions these days.
The image of Pet lying beneath me, her legs wrapped around me, her voice soft and whispering, gasping in pleasure as I entered her sprung to my mind. The words she spoke, simple and powerful, choking my own declarations of love in my throat. Slaying them before they were born off my tongue and landed in her ears.
She had told me she wanted to be in my life, to be part of it.
As much as I loved her, wanted her, and wanted to care for her, the reality of it was that I didn’t know if I could keep her alive.
This girl here, she didn’t know it, but she was one of my experiments to allow Pet a safer passage in my presence.
If I could keep this girl here, slake my thirst at will, then I might be able to spend hours entwined with Pet, the sweat drying on our bodies and the words growing bolder and bolder as we almost dared each other to be the first to say love.
“Do you have a bathroom?” she asked and I noticed her hands trembling. She was coming down a little and probably needed to get a little higher to handle selling her ass tonight.
“I don’t think you’ll need it,” I said and motioned to the table in the centre of the room, “you can do what you need to do right here. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?” she asked and blushed. Her habit embarrassed her; I would definitely be putting her out of her misery once I finally slit her throat.
“I’m quite certain,” I told her, “no judgment here.”
She didn’t hesitate, she pulled a little bag of white powder from her bra, opened it, scooped a little of what I assumed was coke, and snorted into each nostril.
The effect was instantaneous; she lit up and started to twitch, like a brilliant little bird.
“You look happy,” I said, “tell me how it feels.” I didn’t know what it was to be happy. The joy on people’s faces always fascinated me. Even on drugs, I never could let go; coke in particular just gave me a razor sharp edge and a heightened need for blood.
