Sierra

I carefully put my gloves on and quietly climb over the cement wall landing on the other side with a soft thud. I exhale loudly as the adrenaline starts pumping through my veins, gripping the ends of my sleeves and pushing them up to my elbows. Pulling out my butcher knife from the holder between the waistband of my leggings, I admire the sharp point under the night sky.

I made sure to sharpen my knife just a little more for what I have planned for Mr. Donald. He doesn't even know what's coming. I smile to myself; my mind completely clear of the monsters that have taken residence in my head, filling itself with a sense of relief. With only the lights from inside the luxurious home to guide me, I walk towards the double doors of the entrance.

Grateful to find that the entrance is unlocked, I push the door enough to allow my body room to enter. I hate having to be quiet half the time; having to stay silent the way I have been most of my life makes me wish I had a kill spot, or something. I want to hear them beg for their life, beg the way I'm sure those little girls begged for them to stop. The way I begged for my stepdad to stop until I no longer had it in me. He had taken my voice and my free will the moment he took my virginity.

Shaking my head of the memories of my past trying to make their way past the carefully built walls I had created, I slowly walk left towards the stairwell. Taking out the white mask from my pocket, I remove the black beanie and replace it with the white one, carefully covering the rest of my face.The beautiful rustic rail design of the stairs extends up to the second floor. I wish I could glide my fingers along the wood rail above the design.

I grip the handle of my weapon a little harder as I reach the end of the beautiful design, the silent halls will soon be haunted by the ghost of death waiting to claim the prey I've been planning to serve for him.

Reaching the open door of the bedroom, I notice that the fireplace in front of the bed is on, the flames dancing creating a romantic ambiance that is almost poetic. Donald is lying underneath the blankets, his hands on his chest, covering his phone. I walk closer, and very gently pull the device.

My heart rate spikes as I hear the muffled noises from the phone, the anger that courses through my veins at the realization that he was watching a video of his victim, of his stepdaughter. My grip tightens, and the fury takes control of the torture I had thought to take my time with.

Placing the phone down, I grab the handle of my deadly blade with both hands and lift above my head, gathering every bit of strength I can to push the tip into his stomach. I want him to suffer, and that fact alone allows me to take control of the wrath.

His eyes quickly open and he naturally screams in pain, bringing his hand down to his fresh wound as I pull the knife out. Blood fills the expensive beige comforter, he's putting force to his cut while tears stream down his face. "Wh- who are you?" he stutters.

"Karma, bitch," I say, chuckling at the horror on his face. Maybe he thinks I'm one of his victims. I hope he does. I grip the knife again, plunging it in his stomach once more as his cries grow louder. Blood pours out of him only for the comforter to soak every drop into its fabric.

I pull on the comforter, flicking it off the bed in one swift move, allowing the bloodied sheets to soak the white carpet underneath the bed. Donald is completely naked, covered in his blood. His tiny flaccid dick rests between his legs, dried cum a little above his pubes.

I hold in the bile that threatens to come out at the fact that he was getting off to the video of his phone. Disgust rolls through me as I grab his member, his body shakes while he tries to flail on the bed like a fucking fish. It's like he doesn't know what to hold on to, his dick or the wounds that are flooding him with blood.

"N-no, stop. Please! I'll do anything. S-stop," he screams.

I don't give him a moment to try to fight me, my blade meets his cock and in one rapid slice I have little Donald in my hand. I should make him eat it, but I want him to watch as I burn his favorite body part.

His eyes are closed, probably from the blood loss or the fact that I dismembered him. I tap his face forcefully until his eyes are open. He screams at the sight of his cock in my hands. "Pay attention, Donald." I sneer, holding his cock a little closer to his face. "You're lucky I don't feed you your disgusting tiny dick. Is raping little girls the only you can get yourself off, Donald? What fucking gives you a right! No, I want you to watch as I burn your favorite toy." I grit, the smile on my face is evident through the mouth hole of the white ski mask. His eyes are slowly fading, so I hit him again for good measure. "No, no, no." I tusk. "I said, pay attention." I walk over to the opened fireplace and toss his dick on top of the burning logs.

Shoving my blade back to the cover resting behind my waistband, I turn back towards him, but his eyes are closed and his chest no longer rises. He probably died before I even made it to the flames. Asshole couldn't even give me the satisfaction of watching the best torture I've ever concocted. I shrug and make my way to the exit and double check my body to be sure I don't have any blood that could create a trail. Other than my covered hands, there's nothing on my clothes.

With one last glance at my masterpiece, I exhale, and follow the rustic designs of the railing back down the stairs the same way I came in. I don't know why I decided to look around, but I do. I go through the entire main level of the house not really seeing anything interesting; the beating of my heartbeat is slowly beginning to regulate as I walk inside what appears to be his office. It's full of antiques and pieces of expensive art on every wall.

I turn to walk out when a shine catches my attention. Squinting my eyes I notice a weapon shining in the distance. I practically skip to where the dagger sits, the design of the dagger is exquisite, it looks old and almost rusted. Pulling out the blade from the case, I notice the same design as the cover. I smile and add the dagger to my waistband along with my knife. Time to go.

Back to the real world.

Where monsters lurk in the daylight, and the angel of death haunts the night.