The Shadow

Snap! Silence.

"Jesus fucking Christ." I lean back on my heels. Letting out a heavy sigh as I drop my head back and close my eyes. The sound of her neck snapping in my grasp, makes me feel complete. That took a lot longer than I initially anticipated. Mainly because I couldn't believe what I was witnessing. Stacy Cartwright was a fucking nutcase. The moment I mentioned for her to ‘Run' through the woods, the bitch got a smile on her face and excitedly took off.

These girls aren't like they used to be. The more dark romance that's getting flooded into the media is causing them to become fucking insane. It's a fucking pandemic. She ran for about five minutes and then said she "Got bored of waiting." She barely even put up a fight. She accidentally tripped three feet into the brush. It's like she wanted to die. Ok, nobody wants to die but come on.

That was just ridiculous. Nothing like my last kill. Nothing like Melanie. She was perfect and more than happy to suck my cock before I ended her life. So when I did eventually kill her, I had to take her throat with me and yes, I mean the entire thing. Oesophageal mass and all. They copped that one up to someone else because it didn't fit my usual MO. Which is a shame because I was really proud of her.

I mean, I'd only had my cock shoved down the back of her throat five minutes ago and with that little thing called ‘Epithelials,' there was no way I could let that one slide. I just couldn't take a chance that some jobsworth cunt from the pathology department would have a penchant for thorough work and check every orifice twice.

I couldn't allow myself to be caught over something as basic as a blowjob. I'm not in any database but y'know, I was just being cautious. She's definitely in my top five for screamers too. Boy did she have a set of pipes on her.

At one point I thought I was about to jack off to her corpse, but no, I'm not that sick. That's for the psychos of the world. Anyway, back to Stacy. I've watched Stacy for weeks. Waiting for her to realise she was being watched. Waiting for that surge of panic to come from her, but there was nothing. So I had to integrate myself into her life instead. Which I really hate doing.

I had to go with the old ‘I'm married, so this needs to be kept a secret' rouse. One thing I will say though, is I never fuck my victims before or after they're dead. It's just too risky. If I'm being totally open about it, I just don't like the idea of sex at all. At one point, I thought there was something wrong with me, like I was broken or some shit, but my therapist told me I'm Asexual.

That I only get sexually aroused when there is a connection. Which probably explains why I only get a massive hard on every single time I murder one of my girls. I dunno. I'm a random person she met in a bar, and she just left with me. Like it was nothing. I even made an effort to be interested in her. No woman has ever kept me engaged in conversation enough to keep me in the room.

I usually disassociate entirely, but I've mastered the art of making women think I'm interested. When I asked her if she wanted to try something fun in the woods she said yes before I even finished the question. Maybe Emo girls aren't my thing. Maybe I should stick to the innocent ones. Haven't had one of them in a long time.

I must put that on my to do list, so I don't forget. There wasn't even a flicker of apprehension when I pulled the mask and knife from my duffle bag. If I ever have children, I pray they're not as stupid as her. Because Jesus Christ.

As ridiculously unsatisfying as it was, at least she put up a little fight towards the end, when she realised I wasn't actually playing games. Usually, I stab the girls through the heart and make light work of removing it. Leaving it in a plastic Tupperware container by their head for someone to find.

I like to leave them visible in areas I know hikers frequent. That way at least their families aren't worried about them for too long. It's like ‘oops daughters missing,' nope just dead. Funeral. Grieving process. Done.

Yet, she was wriggling so much I didn't have time to grab my knife and I like to work while they're still alive. That way we both get to share the experience of their untimely death before the inevitably pass through blood loss.

"Fuck's sake." Looking back down at her lifeless body beneath me, her eyes still wide in fear. I lean forward and poke her tongue back into her mouth and shiver. "Eurgh, nasty." Pressing her jaw up before rigor sets in. Nobody wants to die with their tongue poking out. This is usually the point where most people like me would fuck the corpse or rearrange it. I, however, don't have time.

She's also not worth the effort either. I'll just leave her here for the sweet old lady in the house to find. And by sweet, I mean cunt. This decrepit bitch cut me up on the freeway earlier in the day. So I followed her only to find out she lived in the middle of nowhere. I'm straddling the limp body of Stacy in the old crone's back yard. I have to stifle a laugh because hopefully when she finds her, she'll have a heart attack and I‘ll kill two birds with one very small stone.

Usually that would fill me with some kind of rush, but tonight, nothing. What gives? Not even the vacant stare of Stacy's greying eyes is making my cock jump. Am I finally getting over this? Am I finally cured? The death rattle comes from her body and my cock jumps to attention. "Oh thank god." I drop to all fours in front of her and suck in a deep breath. "Welp, I need to go home for a wank."

You can wank over me darling.

Hmm no Stacy I'm fine.

Is it something I did?

No, no it's not you it's me. I groan, dropping my head, careful not to touch hers because y'know, evidence. I might be brave enough to leave them in places that anyone could walk by and see but that's because I love the thrill of the moment. Like when people fuck outside or cheat, the fear of getting caught sometimes outweighs the actual act itself.

I snatch the necklace from her throat and jump to my feet. Pulling my sleeve back from my wrist I check the time.

"Shit!" I'm fucking late. I hate being late. I click my tongue and wink down at the body of the worst foreplay I've ever had and take off running.

Time to find the next one. Someone who's going to put up a fight this time.