Nothing but Darkness

by Maria Ann Green

  “So ladies, are you excited for your girly weekend?” Jason is pumping it up as much as he can. Smart man.

  “Hell yes we are. I’m gonna use the shit out of Jason’s money at the spa.” As Bee laughs, it’s contagious around the table. I like her better the more I’m around her. Plus she’s willing to take my side when it comes to Amelia, and not even Jason does that.

  “Oh shit.” Jason tries to look worried, but I can see the cogs turning behind his eyes as he thinks about something else instead. He’s a good sport.

  The meals come, and we laugh while we eat. Everyone throws jokes around with gusto, the drinks fueling our enthusiasm. Bee’s and Jason’s laughs get louder and their jokes more outlandish with each drink they consume, but everyone has a good time. Neither strays into obnoxious mode or crosses any lines. Everyone except Amelia drinks, though I drink nearly as little. I’ve been the one walking to the bar for our drinks, secretly milking my own. I’ve come back with the same glass for myself three times without anyone noticing.

  I want to be sharp tonight. I need to be on my best game, and I want to remember every second with pure clarity. This one will forever count as my first. After tonight The-One-Who-Doesn’t-Count will just slowly fade away.

  I keep my eye on Kristi as often as I can without drawing attention from the ladies across the booth to my preoccupation. Her shift doesn’t end until an hour from now. I plan for our party to end in a half hour, so I can wait in the parking lot for those last thirty minutes.

  Everything would be lost if I missed her leaving. Hence my cushion of time.

  I have my TV and lights set on a timer at home in order to convince my neighbors I’m there. I’ve tried to think ahead. We’ll see how well that goes.

  I’m pulled from my internal planning when Amelia leans in, asking me a question. “Well Aidan, when are you going to take our Bee out for a real date?”

  What the fuck, Mel? You bitch.

  “Hey, honey, let him handle his love life for himself.”

  Thank you, Jason.

  “Who says I’d go out with Aidan, anyway?”

  Bee to the rescue, again.

  “Hey now, I’m a hell of a catch.” Why am I defending myself? I don’t even want to take her out.

  “Maybe you’re not my type.” Bee winks at me while Amelia stares at Jason, giggling.

  “Ah, well it was good while the fantasy lasted,” I say, smiling. Thank you, Bee. I give her a wink of my own in genuine appreciation. And fuck you, Amelia. I make sure to catch her eye next, glaring murderously until she breaks contact first, intimidated. She needs to learn to mind her own damn business, and she needs to learn it quickly.

  Amelia refrains from embarrassing me again for the rest of dinner, but I won’t forget her behavior in a hurry. She’s been a snot lately, and her pregnancy isn’t a good enough excuse for me. I’m not wrapped around her finger like Jason. She better start to mind her comments in my presence, or I’ll she’ll regret it.

  As everyone stands to leave, after I’ve paid our considerable bill, Amelia beckons me over for a private word. I hesitate before following, not sure I want to hear what she has to say. She’s pissed me off enough tonight, and I don’t want to take out any of my aggression on my best friend’s pregnant wife.

  “I’m sorry.” She looks down while I glare. “I need to learn to shut my mouth. I have this problem of not shutting up when I’m pregnant.” No excuse. “But I’m working on it. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  “Fine. Apology accepted. I can’t stay mad at you for long.” Because you’re fucking hot, and I don’t have to live with you. “Please knock it off. I’m a big boy and I can handle my own life. I know you want to mother me, but you have a new one on the way you can use that advice for, okay?”

  “Okay. I swear I’m done.” Hopefully she’s sincere as she lifts her palms in surrender.

  “Good. Now time to head home so you can be spoiled tomorrow.” Mel claps her hands in childish glee before leaning in for a hug.

  She doesn’t touch my ass like last time. Apparently that was too subtle. Now that she’s more intentional, there isn’t anything else I can take from her actions. Her fingers find their way to the waist of my pants, her slender digits fondling the front of my belt buckle as her lips tickle my ear with her sweet breath. “Maybe you can make me dinner when Jason’s out of town sometime. I hate when you’re a stranger.”

  Before I can think of anything to say, before I can utter a single word, before I can even breathe, she turns and sways her supple hips away.

  Well…fuck…I don’t think that one can be misinterpreted. I’ll have to deal with her later, though, because tonight is all about me and my plaything.

  All four of us gather at the door, saying our goodbyes for the evening. Again I neglect to collect Bee’s phone number despite her major brownie points tonight. We all run to our prospective cars to fight against the cold. The only difference is after I drive out of the parking lot, waving to Jason and Amelia, I simply circle the block, heading back to wait for Kristi’s departure.

  And I only have to wait twenty minutes before I shift back into drive, ready to follow her car full of packed belongings on the way to Philadelphia.

  I’m ready for you, Kristi.

  I’m so ready.

  While driving several hundred feet behind Kristi’s beat-up old Pinto, I have lots of time to envision what’s soon to happen. I’m giddy with anticipation, seeing red from dripping and oozing blood. I hear ear-piercing screams that go unanswered, unheard, by anyone but me. I smell incredible fear, and I smell unbearable pain. This is going to be an experience to die for. Literally.

  Sorry, Kristi.

  I don’t have the radio on. I want to be able to run through scenarios in my head unencumbered by lyrics or beats. I don’t want to be distracted. Although I’m also relishing the anticipation, it also can’t hurt to create solutions to possible problems. I run through potential glitches in dutiful preparation.

  All the while I ensure she won’t detect my following. I stay quite a ways back, and I change lanes often enough that I’m rarely ever right behind her. I either keep a car or two between us or I’m in a different lane altogether. It’s easier than I thought to go unnoticed while on the freeway. The cover of darkness may be helping as well. City streets would be harder to navigate while keeping close enough not to lose her but far enough to remain unseen. I’m thankful I chose somewhere far enough for her to “move” that she needed to make use of freeways.

  I need her to pull over for dinner. I watched as she served her last shift at Delta’s, and she never paused to eat. Instead she focused on training the newbie. I have to get to her before she stops and checks into a hotel. That way there will be more time before she’s noticed as missing.

  I can feel my senses tingling. It’s as if every nerve is on high alert. I shiver in excitement. This is definitely what I’m meant to be doing.

  This is where I should be.

  ****

  After about an hour and a half of driving, Kristi exits the highway for a twenty-four-hour diner. Again I’m amazed at my luck. This is just another sign that I’m on my intended track. A car can sit here for quite a while going unnoticed. It shouldn’t be too suspicious.

  Kristi enters the diner, sitting by herself to eat. I don’t go inside. The cold is my friend—it keeps me alert—as I jiggle her handles, checking if she’s locked her doors. I’m not as lucky this time. None open. But I’m nothing if I’m not prepared. I jimmy the lock quickly, sliding into her backseat, with my killer’s kit in hand, remembering to relock the door. My small zippered pack includes everything I need for my night with her.

  In her backseat I’m disguised by the many packed boxes, and she shouldn’t see me even if she glances in her backseat before hopping into the front. I’ve seen so many women check their backseat, looking for bad news in the back. But this time the extra few seconds for caution shouldn’t help Kristi out.

  Feeli
ng around inside an open box, I dig for something solid and heavy. My fingers scan over blankets and clothing. Nothing is useable in this one. I reach into the second and breathe freely as my fingers encircle a crystal ashtray. As I pull it out, I can tell it’s the kind I picture grandmothers owning even if they didn’t smoke. It’s huge, round, and thick crystal. I can feel the weight of it cold in my gloved hand, and what I can only imagine is a scary smile spreading across my face. My eyes must have a shade of resolution in them.

  This will do just fine for what I need.

  Thirty more minutes go by since I settled into her backseat, and then Kristi’s outside her car fiddling through her keys for the correct one. I suck in a sharp breath and stifle an overly insane giggle that wants to burst through my dry lips. I hold that breath in my protesting lungs while she turns the lock. Slowly, way too slowly especially considering the temperature, she gets into her seat. Is she hesitating, or just tired?

  Finally, she puts her key into the ignition and turns. This is my cue. Before she shifts into drive I lean forward and wield the ashtray. I can hear the loud CRACK that shrieks through the air as crystal finds skull. The thud is satisfying, then Kristi slumps to her right without time to think about what’s happened.

  Incapacitate the waitress: check.

  Unintentionally get an erection: check.

  Pushing Kristi from her side over to the passenger seat is easier than expected as she’s hunched over, unconscious, in a bench-style seat. Though she’s not parked too close to the diner, she’s two spots away from an overhead light, so I rush to move as quickly as I can before anyone sees what’s going on. With all the planning I’ve put into this, it would be a real shame to get caught because of where she parked.

  I check her door is still unlocked before slinking out of the backseat and into the front. The car is still running. The radio isn’t on yet nor the heat, and the gear is still in park. My timing was sensational. I turn on the heat, backing out of the parking lot, headed for the highway.

  I pull out my phone and GPS the abandon farm I located along the trip days earlier. I had the foresight to scope out a location while driving to and from her interview. I’ll never make fun of anyone for over-planning something again. Elaborate is just fine with me.

  The farm is about twenty miles from the diner she chose. It has huge acreage and no one around for miles. It’s the perfect spot for what we’ll be doing.

  Kristi doesn’t stir the entire drive. I begin to worry I hit her too hard and ruined my upcoming fun, but when I place my fingers next to her nose I can feel the shallow breaths in and out.

  That’s a relief.

  As I pull into the overgrown driveway, my heart rate picks up. This is it. This unconscious bitch will soon die at my hands. Intentionally and brutally. I can feel my mind racing faster, and it’s as if the thoughts are bouncing around inside my skull, going a million miles an hour. Even my blood pressure is up along with rushed heartbeats.

  This is it. This is it, right now.

  I pull up in front of a field along the back side of the property. Kristi’s car is hidden from the view of the road, though since every property on this road is uninhabited I doubt there’ll be any passersby tonight. As I shut my driver’s side door, I can’t tell if I hear a slight groan from Kristi or if my senses are going haywire from standing at high alert for the last couple hours.

  But as I reach the passenger side I’m hit smack in the face with the realization it was a real sound from Kristi’s somewhat bloodied lips. She’s gained consciousness, and I’m knocked to my ass on the cold ground as she shoves me with whatever strength she can muster.

  “You’re going to regret that, you bitch.”

  In true terror fashion, Kristi screams instead of replying. She begins to run away, but her little streak of luck has run out. Since she’s pushed me to the ground I’m in a prime position to hook her ankles as she tries to scramble past me, and I send her crashing down as well.

  “What do you want? Why are you doing this?”

  Her pleading starts out frantic and hoarse, as if she’s been begging for mercy for hours. She thrashes her arms wildly, searching for anything she can catch hold of in order to pull away from me.

  “Convenience.”

  The detached look on my face must further fuel Kristi’s panic because her cries morph into guttural moans void of decipherable words. She starts kicking at my hands, holding both of her feet captive, but she can’t get free of my grip to kick anywhere that counts.

  Her fingers search for a hold. She pulls out blades of frost-covered grass, throwing fistfuls toward me. Far from incapacitating, it only makes me laugh. Her arms swing, trying to land, and finally one does. She cracks me in the ear.

  “Fuck,” I groan.

  I almost let go completely; I do of one ankle and she kicks me in the center of my chest with her freed foot. In the blink of an eye, I’m back on the ground and she’s up, running.

  I start to panic. Before I have the sense to run, I rub my eyes. Is she actually getting smaller?

  “Jesus fucking Christ.”

  Luckily she’s aging, probably has a concussion, and I’m in shape. I catch up to her, tackling her hard to the ground. This time I sit on her ankles as well as hold down her legs. Everything has a learning curve, and I’ve learned to also lean away. My ear is still throbbing.

  “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh…my god. I don’t want to die. Please let me go.”

  Kristi sits up, starting to punch my shoulders with laughable inadequacy. She can’t reach my face at least. She’s weak from the run and even more terrified. It’s doing her no favors. Her begging stops once bubbles of laughter escape my throat, and she simply begins to cry. Horrid, loud, and panicky sobs come from her shaking body.

  “Shut the fuck up.” But she doesn’t. So I shut her up myself. One swift fist to the temple knocks Kristi out again. This time I’ll restrain her before beginning my fun. Lesson learned.

  Kristi’s eyes flutter open, and she hesitates before making any noise. Her eyes search the surroundings for something familiar, but when she comes up short a sharp intake of breath pierces the previous fifteen minutes of silence.

  “Sorry, doll.” I choose the endearment she uses for so many customers she doesn’t care to learn the names of. “It wasn’t a dream. You’re definitely here, and there’s no getting away.”

  Her hands are tied behind her back and she’s lying on top of them. Her feet are bound together as well. She’s incapacitated this time, and the view is absolutely wonderful. She can’t get away (though it was also an adrenaline spike, her little attempt to run was avoidable). And now I have all the time I want to do as I please. I’m not going to rush this one.

  Instead of continuing to plead as she did before, Kristi just screams at the top of her lungs. She screams until she must be sore, clearly losing steam. After informing her, “be as loud as you want, there’s no one for miles around. No one will hear you. No one’s coming to save you,” I smile, chuckling until she tires herself out.

  “Are you finished?”

  She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t nod. She doesn’t move. She just continues to breathe in and out jaggedly as silent tears stream down her face. Her eyes aren’t focused any longer. Her mind is somewhere off in the distance.

  Well, I can bring her back to the here and now.

  Leaning over, I place my face within inches of Kristi’s, mine straight on to the side of her profile. My hands rest heavily on either side of her defeated shoulders. The ground prickles the skin of my palms, yet instead of irritating it energizes me. My breath bathes her colorless cheek.

  “I’m going to tear you apart.” Pause for dramatic effect. Though, she doesn’t appreciate it. “There’s nothing you can say to change my mind, unfortunately, so begging is pointless. If you want to try, though. I won’t begrudge you for it.” She shifts her focus momentarily to connect with me, but quickly looks away again when she finds no mercy in my face. For the second
she looks into my eyes, I can see the hope there spark and just as quickly fade away again. “There isn’t a specific reason I chose you, other than the fact that no one will connect me back to you.”

  “You’re a crazy motherfucker.” Kristi’s head whips toward me, and she spits as she pushes the words through her frustration. Before I can get away, she head butts me. Fuck, that hurts. Oddly enough it’s a good hurt. And luckily there’s no blood. Hopefully there isn’t a bruise later.

  “Such harsh language from such a common woman.”

  “Fuck you, cocksucker.”

  “Tut, tut, tut.” I take a moment to punish her foul mouth by slapping both of her ears simultaneously. The echo reverberates against the dead, frozen crops, sending a spike of something new and unrecognizable up my spine in a quick flash. I laugh and add, “Too bad insulting me changes nothing.”

  This is more fun than I imagined it could be. The bonus of toying with my prey adds exponential excitement I hadn’t really been able to calculate.

  Kristi grits her teeth, seething through them, but in the next breath she changes tactics. “I’ll do anything.”

  I stand up. Start pacing. Her eyes follow me. They hold on to each movement.

  “Anything?”

  “Anything! What do you want? I’ll give you anything. I’ll do fucking anything. Please just stop now before it’s too late.” There’s hope in her voice.

  “It’s already too late.”

  “No, it isn’t. I swear I won’t tell anyone. I’ll leave and never look back.” She’s almost choking on her words, tripping over each. She can’t get them out fast enough.

  “I wasn’t talking about you.”

  “W—what?” Confusion bathes every inch of her face.

  “I didn’t mean it’s too late for you, though, that’s also true. It’s too late for turning back. Too late to stop. You’re not my first, doll.” Acid pumps through the pet name.