12. The Masked

Chapter twelve

The Masked

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, I LAY in bed staring at the ceiling, focusing on last night's events. Every detail had been etched into my memory, from the heavenly scent of her arousal to the taste of her juices swirling on my tongue. Even the taste of her cum was innocent, and how her pussy tightened around my tongue when she gave in and let her orgasm flow made me crave her more. To have my cock fill her so deep, her eyes would roll so far back that she would look possessed as she came all over my shaft.

I wanted to reveal what she already had hidden in her soul—the darkness within and the demon begging to be released.

The word around town was that I was some hero avenging her, but I was far from being a hero. I wasn't a good guy; I never have been, never would be, and never claimed to be. I've done things only ordinary people have nightmares about. I killed lots of people in my twenty-eight years. Even those who were good people had their heads on my list, and I always followed orders.

The moment I spotted her cowering in fear, I knew she was the one. The purpose of my life of solitude and violence had been fulfilled. I would transform her into an ideal killer, just as I am, and our life together would be filled with mayhem.

When she stabbed Trey, her eyes showed a glimmer of enjoyment. A fire burned behind them as intense pleasure spun around in her pupils. She was a born killer. I knew it.

My phone buzzing on the nightstand brought me out of my thoughts. Rolling on my side, I grabbed it, flipping it over to look at the screen. A text from Elias appeared at the top of the display. I quickly opened it.

Elias: Check the video I sent you ASAP.

Above his text was the link to the video.

I sat on the side of my bed and clicked the video before standing and heading for the kitchen.

A live camera filled my screen as I made my way down the hall, and there sat mi Reina in a chair handcuffed to the table.

Anger filled my mind as I clicked the audio to hear what Detectives Dumb and Dumber said to my Reina.

I warned them, and they clearly didn't take me seriously.

The burly detective stepped into the room and sat in front of Lyric, his bald scalp reflecting the light from the lamp above. His dark mustache and green eyes contrasted sharply with his beer belly. Altogether, he gave off an aura of someone who was pushed to their limit by years of heavy drinking and a nagging wife, leaving him permanently grouchy.

Even when he spoke, his voice sounded tired.

"Miss Simmons, here we are again." He said as the other detective sat next to him.

He was a slim guy with light blond hair and baby blue eyes. He was about five feet nine inches tall and had a slight curve at the back of his neck from years of slouching, even though he was still in his twenties.

He was definitely a rookie detective.

Lyric glanced between the two detectives inquiringly, her voice soft as she asked, "And why are we here?"

The oversized detective slapped a folder on the table before her.

"Well, I would never have guessed you, of all people, would be the killer," he said, opening the folder to reveal a baggy with a purple ponytail wrapped around a few strands of dark hair. He pushed it toward her across the table. "Can you tell us how this got in Trey's room the night of his murder?"

My Reina was unfazed, her serenity hinting that she had faith I could manage everything. It made me proud to think she trusted me so unreservedly. I couldn't help but smirk as I picked up a mug from the cupboard and set it beneath the coffee machine. She was right. I would take care of it, just as I promised.

After the machine finished brewing, I sipped my dark coffee, placed the cup on the kitchen island, leaned on the counter, and returned to watching the video.

"You do remember I was raped, and he could have been one of my attackers. He could have taken that with him. How does a ponytail prove I killed Trey?" She asked smartly with a grin. She knew they had no actual evidence and that the detectives fucked-up the case.

See, this is why I chose her. She was intelligent and witty.

"Miss Simmons, do you think this is a laughing matter?" The larger guy said in an irritated tone.

"Of course not. I'm not laughing," she replied.

"You're smiling during an interrogation, Miss."

"You were warned, yet you brought me back here. You slapped handcuffs on me, which would indicate you touched me. It's your heads on the line." She joked slightly. "Pun intended," she added.

Her laugh was everything. Remind me to make her cum more often. She's more chipper. I liked it when she was a smartass.

"Did you just threaten detectives?" the thin guy asked, leaning forward. He was trying to intimidate her, which was a big mistake. He would pay for that later. No one put fear in my Reina but me.

"No, sir, he already did that," she answered, and I almost spit out my coffee, bursting into laughter.

That's my girl.

"Are you going to continue your questions, or am I free to go?" Lyric sat forward, shaking the cuffs around her wrists. "I'm not the one you need to be worried about."

Both the detectives rose from their seats and leaned on the table. The larger one spoke. "Don't leave town, Miss Simmons." He grabbed the keys from his pocket and unlocked the cuffs.

She rubbed her wrist and then smiled. "Oh, I'm not going anywhere, but you are." And she left, not allowing either of them to ask questions.

As she vanished out the door, I noticed the reaction on the faces of the detectives to her words. Would they finally take my warning seriously? I shrugged—they would soon find out just how serious I was.

I pushed myself off the island and drained the remaining liquid from my cup before preparing for an epic night.

My red charger was parked just outside the police station. For the past hour, I had been observing officers coming and going there until my two favorite detectives finally emerged from the entrance. A broad grin spread across my face as soon as I saw them.

The undercover car roared to life, and they reversed out of the parking lot, quickly gaining speed down the street.

I started my engine, following right behind them.

As they reached the outskirts of town, their pace gradually decreased. They turned onto a quiet road that led to the beach behind Savannah.

I clicked my live button on my iPhone, perched it in my window, facing the windshield, and watched the officer's taillights wind down the dirt road before coming to a stop, most likely to see who the hell I was and why I'd be following them.

I stopped a few feet away as they both exited the car. "Hey asshole, it's a crime to follow a police car." The skinny dickhead yelled as he rested his arms on the top of the car.

My windows were dark, so they couldn't see who was in the car, but once I got out, their faces fell, and their eyes went wide.

I leaned on my door, my black eyes bouncing between the two. "I told you not to touch her," I reminded them.

The hefty Detective Davis started towards me, but I quickly pulled my knife out and began flipping it between my fingers to show off the reflection of the moonlight on the silver blade.

"Oh, detective, you are walking right into my trap. I anticipated that you would be wiser than this."

He halted. "You can't shame us for doing our job. You're killing people," he said, looking over at his partner.

"Technically, I'm doing your job. You fuckfaces did nothing when she came to you for help but labeled her as another loudmouth girl crying rape. Even after you saw the video, which I'm sure you fucking pervs got off on, didn't you?" I pointed my blade toward Detective Cartwright. "You seem like a creepy fucker to me. Because we all know that fat fuck over there," I pointed back at Detective Davis. "Hasn't got his dick hard in a while."

I approached the detectives slowly, and Davis motioned toward his firearm. But before he could draw it, I warned him. "Not a smart idea." His hand fell from his holster. "Okay, so here is what's going to happen. I'm a little tired today since my Reina kept me up. I'm not in the mood to play, so let's get this over with." And I pounced at the fat piece of shit first. Before he could react, I grabbed him by the arm, twisted it behind his back, and sliced across his throat.

His eyes widened, and he made a gurgling noise as blood sprayed from his neck. He stumbled forward and tried to grab his throat, but he was already dead as he crumpled to his knees and fell onto his side.

Cartwright stood stunned; his mouth hung open as he watched the blood from his partner's neck pool onto the ground around him. He was unsure what to do, so he did what any cop would do and reached for his gun.

I threw my knife at him, and it sank into his shoulder before he could get a hold of his gun. I jumped over the trunk of their police cruiser, landed beside Cartwright, and quickly pulled my blade from his shoulder. Blood sprayed from the wound as he pressed hard on it to stop the bleeding while staring at me in shock.

"Look, detective, I'm not a very nice guy. I would normally torture you, but I'll end this quickly." I glared at the detective before I lunged at him, grabbed the gun from his holster, and fired two shots into the front of his thighs.

Cartwright crumbled to the ground in agony, and I stomped my boot down onto the wound, coursing a blood-curdling cry to escape his mouth.

I tossed his gun and reached down, picking up my knife.

"Please, don't kill me." Cartwright cried, tears streaming down his face. "I'll do anything."

I laughed coldly. "I don't want you to do anything. I want you to bleed for her. For you to feel her pain when she pleaded for help only to be let down by those who made an oath to serve and protect." Cartwright began hyperventilating.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed. "Please, I was just doing my job," he pleaded.

I crouched down next to him. "Well then, I guess that makes it all okay," I said as if I were going to let him live. I cocked my head, pointing the tip of my blade in his face. "I'll let you in on a little secret. I'm a reaper and sending anyone who messes with my Reina to Hell." And with that, I jammed my knife through his eye socket, straight through his skull. "Sorry, Cartwright, there wasn't much time to play tonight. I'm a busy man. Places to be, people to kill, you know. That sort of thing." I yanked my blade out of his head with a noise like bones grinding and then wiped the blood on his clothes.

I rose from the ground and walked to my car, stopping in front of the hood to gaze into the camera's lens still taping in my windshield.

I solemnly declared, "This is a warning. I won't be taken lightly when those I caution disregard my words. Nothing stands in my way of what I want."

Flipping my crimson-covered knife shut, I grinned beneath my mask. "Who's next?" I asked before vanishing from sight.

The only thing that remained on the screen was the empty landscape where the detectives lay motionless before it faded to black.

Eleven P.M. Savannah looked deserted for a Friday night, but that was probably because all the college assholes were at a massive party at one of the frat houses, most likely keeping the neighbors wide awake.

The police were short-handed, so there wouldn't be any interruptions from them due to the overwhelming calls of accidents on I-516 and, of course, the murders of their fellow dickhead officers.

From across the street, I watched the two-story house. It was a modernized home with white bricks, gray shutters, and a circle drive. The frat house's name was proudly displayed on a tapestry draped over the balcony railing on the second floor.

The house's front yard was filled with inebriated college students carelessly spilling their drinks. I couldn't help but chuckle as I watched them stumble around.

Stupid fucks.

This evening would be unlike any other—I couldn't very well barge into a frat party wearing a mask, so I had to go with the flow and hope that nobody would notice me being me.

I walked across the road to the lawn of the frat house. I passed all the drunks, and a few tumbled to the ground before laughing as I headed for the door.

One kid walked over as I made it to the steps. "Hey man, do I know you?" He asked in a slur, wobbling side to side.

"Nah, I'm new," I said as I gave him a slight poke in the chest, and he fell back into the bushes beside the house.

I chuckled as I entered the house.

Fucking kids can't hold their liquor nowadays.

The sound of the music amplified as I walked through the foyer and into the living room, where everyone was dancing. Girls were shaking their asses while dudes tried to intervene by grabbing at their hips and placing their disgusting puny little boy weenies into their backsides.

Such fools. They couldn't even make a whore with lube wet.

Resting against the doorframe, I scanned the room for the person I sought, and there she was with a tall glass filled with some vibrant fruity drink in hand, her lips sipping from a straw. When our eyes met, I flashed my arrogant playboy smirk, and she smiled back bashfully, her gaze drifting over my crisp white fitted shirt, ripped black jeans, and white Nikes. My dark hair was neatly swept to the side. I figured it wouldn't take long before my charisma would reel her in, and sure enough, it didn't.

The girl swayed her hips as he approached me, likely to catch my eye. I pretended to be interested, but she did not affect me. I had someone else on my mind.

This girl was one of those who had caused my Reina pain. For that, I would reel her in, and when she least expected it, I'd flip the switch.

She spoke low and trailed her finger softly over my chest as she looked at me, her eyes full of desire. "I've never seen you at any of the parties before," she said.

"I was looking for you," I said, smirking.

"Really?" Her eyes lifted to mine. "Why is that?" she asked as her teeth bit into her bottom lip.

I leaned close to her ear and spoke softly. "Let's play a game," I murmured, my lips almost brushing the edge of her ear.

I stepped away from her, and she gave me an approving grin. Her voice had a seductive hint as she said, "Lead the way, bad boy." She extended her hand toward me, and I grabbed it, which felt like sandpaper, not because she didn't have soft skin but because she wasn't my Reina. My body and soul wanted nothing but my sweet Melody.

We made our way up the stairs and entered the hall. I pushed a few doors open, but they were occupied.

One was a couple mid-fuck, and another was a petite blonde girl giving some jock a blowjob. Then, finally, we came to the end of the hall to the right. A massive game room appeared when I pushed the door open. I smiled before leading her inside and locking the door behind us. She noticed this but didn't seem scared. I'm sure she thought it was because I planned on fucking her, but there was no way my dick was going near any of her holes.

"So, you got me here. Now, what's this game you speak of?" She leaned into me, swirling her hideous, manicured nails on my peck.

Without a word, I guided her toward the pool table, and her ass hit the edge, causing her to moan as I pressed against her. It felt icky, but I would make her suffer just like she had my sweet Melody.

I lifted her onto the pool table and pushed her down on it. "You're a bad girl," I said huskily.

"What do you do to bad girls?" With a seductive smile, she nibbled on her finger's tip.

A wicked grin spread across my face. "I make them pay," I returned.

"Oh, show me how," she begged as she lifted her skirt to her hips, slowly dragged her black lace panties to her ankles, and spread her legs wide where her pussy was on display. She was so wet that her arousal dripped down her folds onto the table below her into a pool.

Reaching over, I picked up the pool stick, flipping it to the larger end. "Do you like toys?" I asked, placing the large end of the stick at her entrance, and she gasped.

"Oh... yes." She moaned.

Everything in me gagged as I slipped the pool stick inside her and slowly picked up pace, dragging it in and out. Her pussy juices splashed out onto her thighs as I rammed it into her harder. She arched her back as her moans caught in her throat.

Her eyes met mine, and I leaned forward. "You like that, you filthy bitch?" I growled.

"Oh god, yes!" She cried.

I was slamming into her with such force that her moans turned into yelps of pain instead of pleasure. "You still like it, Kathleen, you fucking whore?"

"Slow down; you're hurting me." She whined.

With all my might, I thrust the pool stick into her. A loud and horrifying scream escaped her lips, which was covered by the loud bass booming below us. A mix of scarlet and her juices spilled from her nasty cunt. The rod was pushed so deeply that it must have struck some of her vital organs. It was lodged into her body, more than halfway.

I bent down, hovering over her as she sobbed, and held her chin firmly in my grasp. "I warned you not to torment my Reina, and you still had the guts to continue talking ill of her calling her a whore when you think the masked man wasn't watching." I snarled. "You spread your legs for me like your pussy was on fire. Whore seems to fit you better, and that is the way you will die, like a fucking whore." I grabbed the eight ball and placed it in her mouth. "Now choke on some balls, bitch!" And I forcibly shoved the ball into her mouth, cracking her teeth in the process.

After struggling on the table for several minutes, she stopped moving, and her gaze was empty.

I went to the door, leaving her lifeless body on the pool table like a discarded rag doll, and melted into the vast crowd of people partying away like nothing happened.