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Murder Mystery Mayhem - eminem?
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He couldn't quite figure out why, even to himself, but he decided to take her alive and somewhat well, all the way to the cabin. He heard her cries and struggles in the back seat but it didn't register to him, except on an almost melodical scale. It actually made him hum along.
He made a quick stop behind a garage, just to give her a sniff of chloroform so he could keep her motionless and quiet. He checked to make sure that her still form was concealed under the blanket and garbage in the backseat.
He then pulled up to the pumps to get some fuel. He entered the gas station, grabbed some snacks, coffee and plunked them all down on the counter.
"Afternoon sir, just this or do you need some gas too?" asked the robust and overweight 30-something man behind the counter.
"Give me fifty bucks worth." he replied.
"And your membership card, sir? For the gas discount?" the teller asked him. "If you use your card, the coffee is free."
"I don't have a membership," he replied.
"Ah its easy, just give me your phone number and email and I can enter it right here and be done. With every new membership you get 5 cents off a gallon."
It seemed easy enough so he decided to go ahead, and was soon out of the store with his free coffee and new membership.
After a few minutes he was on the road again. What he didn't know was that the cashier was watching the CCTV monitor and had noticed movement in the backseat of that old brown Oldsmobile.
After fueling up, he jumped into the driver seat and was soon back on the highway. Two hours later, he veered of the highway and onto a dirt road in the brush. Winding around between tall old growth trees, bumping through potholes and debris, he worked his way to the almost hidden roadway to the cabin and stopped the car.
It was a bit of a struggle but he eventually got the girl into the cabin and secured her to an old chair close to the window and the sink. She was tough even with chloroform in her system.
Once inside, he stopped. He took a moment and slipped his brain over to the river in his mind. Deep into the cavern where 'he' lived. The part of him that he had earlier today, only touched on in order to get her here. Now he had to dive deep. After only a few seconds 'he' was there. His gait changed, his breathing deepened and his pupils expanded. A strange eerie calm waved over his face, making his facial muscles go slack. His eyes were completely devoid of emotion. He turned to the window and started the music. The same music he always used; "oh Sandy."
From the bag he always had with him, he took out his knives, put them neatly in a row on the table. They were sharp and clean. He reached to a shelf and took down a large blue tarp. This he opened up and put on the floor.
In the chair the young woman woke and then started struggling. She tried to cry out against the scarf that now covered her mouth. The chair wobbled with her efforts, but he didn't even care, he didn't really notice because it didn't matter.
He knew he wanted her alive, but he needed her subdued, controlled and weaker. He turned and grabbed a hammer that was on the counter, approached her and struck her head hard, in the exact spot that would debilitate her but still keep her almost awake. She slumped down, then slinked down in the chair.
He returned to the table and took one of the knives that were there, turned, cut her free and then dragged her to the centre of the tarp. Here he started cutting her clothes off. The thin pink material split apart easily and soon she was naked on the floor. Her hair was matted with blood from the wound in her head, wet and shiny and now a part of the scene. The sight created an emotion in him. The emotion was adoration.
He removed the scarf from her mouth, leaned forward and kissed her. A gentle closed-mouth kiss to her lips. To this she turned her head to the side, moaning. She started to move her legs in an attempt to struggle. The fog in her head creating confusion amongst the pain, she tried to swim her way to consciousness but couldn't get there.
He took his time, little nicks on her skin, here and there, enough to make her bleed, but not quickly. Her cries, a cross between a moan and a kitten's mew, added to the cadence of the music in the room. He wanted to prolong the experience. She was still alive, but only barely. He then took the scarf and again, wound it around her throat, he straddled her chest. He leaned forward and put his lips to her ear while he pulled, tight.
"Ssshh... Sandra, it's ok. Just go to sleep." He whispered the sweet sound to her.
He was smart, he knew when to stop. Just moments before life would leave her, just then. She was fully unconscious and barely alive.
Now to his favorite part. He rose and went back to the table. Here was his largest and sharpest knife. He returned with this and kneeled beside her. He dipped the tip inside her just above the right hip. Pulling across, he cut her from hip to hip. She was moments from dying. He slipped his hand inside the wound and wriggled his fingers through her warm wet intestines. He pulled some out and marveled at the beautiful color of red. The feel, the color, the smell of old iron. It all moved him. He was falling in love, yet again.
Her life drained from her at that moment. He stood over her and admired her. He saw the love he gave her and now it is time to share in that pleasure. He drops his pants and tugs on himself. In seconds his ejaculate was all over her. He leaned down and spread the fluid all over her face. He kissed her deeply, tasted the iron of the blood and the sea water salty taste of his cum.
He stands, "Oh Sandy, what a mess we have made." Time to clean up. The routine is ingrained into him. The process so familiar that he can allow his mind to wander while he works, the whole time his favourite song playing over and over in the background. He replays all of his escapades through his mind. One by one, each offering a different and special feeling for him. Each one special. To him, this is his record of the loves of his life.
When he reaches the old well, he takes the time to notice that the packages are getting higher in the well. Not enough to worry about now, but soon enough he may need a new place to put his former lovers. It is now something else to plan for.
He knows his pace is increasing, the need for more always pressing on the inside of his mind. Sometimes even over to the other one. Planning, scheduling and hiding were the parts of his life that he despised. But he knows it was always worth it.
Soon enough he is cleaned up. But he is tired and needs rest. So, he thinks he will take a rest this time, before tackling the highway again. He will need to make more excuses when he gets back, but that is the way of things, after all.
