Ashley

It's been five days and Fran's body still hasn't turned up. The whole school is going crazy. Her parents and so-called friends have been frequently on the news begging her to either come back home, or for whoever has her to please let her go. Well, only I, and one other person know Fran's not coming back.

Ever.

I have absolutely no idea where he's buried her, or even if she's going to be found at all. He could've chopped her up into tiny pieces by now and I'd never know. I might be the only person in this school man enough to say I really don't give a fuck about Fran.

I mean, I killed her after all. But everyone else is acting like she wasn't the biggest fucking bitch to ever walk the halls of Brown University. Although watching her mother cry on TV hasn't brought me as much joy as I initially thought it would. Jesse and his stupid brother haven't been near me since the news broke that Fran had gone missing the evening of my first altercation with them.

Giving me time to watch my next victim without being interrupted. I decided to put Fran's little butt buddies to the back of the line for the meantime. I don't need to attract any unwanted attention. So here I am, standing outside the Dean's house. I decided that tonight was the night for him to meet his untimely demise.

Raising my hand, I rap my knuckles against the glass panelling. Making sure to keep my head down so nobody gets a good look at my face. Footsteps become louder the closer they get to the door. I look up and smile as Joseph pulls the door open.

"Miss Porter, what are you-"

"I'm so sorry, I got the address from Professor Danvers. My car broke down and I was wondering if I could use your phone to call breakdown?"

"Oh, uh, of course. Please," he steps back, opening the door and gesturing for me to enter. "Go through to the back room and take a seat."

"Thank you so much." I smile, stepping over the threshold of his house. I pull off my black heels and tug at the belt around my coat. Can't run in heels. Not that I need to but just in case. I slide the mack off my shoulders as the door clocks shut and turn to face him.

I came prepared tonight and pulled out the big guns. A blood red, velvet dress hugs my body, clinging in all the right places. It's freezing outside but who gives a fuck when what I'm about to do to him will warm me up.

I have to be quick though, I need to make my way to a study group Nathan set up for the three students who are falling behind in his class. He asked me to attend this evening and seeing as I had nothing else to do -other than this- I agreed to help. I have exactly one hour to get this done, change and leave without anyone seeing me.

Talk about cutting it short.

This needs to be quick and easy.

No mess.

Walking into the back room, I take a seat on the sofa and place my clutch bag on the seat next to me. I watch as hewalks into the room and freezes at the sight of me. Let's play it safe here.

"Just coming back from a date," I laugh dryly. "Needless to say, it did not go well." I giggle, brushing my hands down my dress as though I'm nervous.

"Boys these days wouldn't know how to treat a young woman such as yourself even if it was right in front of them."

"Do you?" I tilt me head.

"Do I what, Miss Porter?" Resting his hand on the arm of the chair he drops down into the seat. His rotund belly wiggling as he does, and I have to do everything not to grimace. I can't believe I'm about to do this. The thing in front of me is nearly seventy, with type two diabetes and more liver spots on his hands and face than I've ever seen.

He's balding on top and doing everything he can to cover the patch with what's left of his hair. If the liver spots weren't going to give me the ick, the combover certainly has. Swallowing down the bile, I smile.

"Know how to treat a woman," I shrug, looking nonchalantly around the room. Joseph clears his throat as he shuffles in his seat. God, he's vile. "This big house. All alone. Is there no wife in the picture?"

"She died, a while ago now. So, no. I'm a lonely man in this house." I lean forward, knowing full well that my breasts are on display. Joseph's eyes linger on my body as I stand. I stalk over like a cat and the poor bastard has no idea what's about to happen. He doesn't take his eyes off of me for a single second.

"Can I use your phone to call triple A?" Lifting his finger, he points to the phone next to the fireplace and I smile. "Thank you." I turn and make my way to the table, picking up the receiver and holding it to my ear.

"Would you like a drink while you wait?"

Bingo.

"If you give me a moment to sort this, I'll make it for us." My seductive tone sings through the air as I look over my shoulder at him and wink. The fucker's dick is already growing, and this is the dirtiest I've ever felt. And not in a good way either. Pressing a few random buttons, I put on the best performance of my life.

"Yes, hi. I was wondering if I could have someone come out to collect me and my car." I laugh. "Yeah, I broke down on Winchester Road… uh huh… yes that's right, just past the park. Thank you. Ok… yes, I'm safe. Ok, bye." I put down the phone, taking a deep breath. I need to steady my nerves and make sure every second counts. "Where are the drinks?"

He points to the corner at the back of the room, and I make my way over. Pouring the whiskey into a tumbler, I carefully lift the vile of crushed Temazepam from between my cleavage and pour it into the glass. Not that he will be able to taste the difference.

I check my watch as I rest my arms on the back of the sofa. I've watched him talk absolute shit for what feels like fucking ages. The Temazepam has finally started to kick in and it's the first time I've thanked God for anything. His words are becoming slurry, but he's fighting it. There were enough crushed tablets in there to put down a fucking horse and with his diabetes and lack of taste, it was easy to get him to drink.

"How long will the recovery team take to get here?" He slurs slightly.

"Another five minutes, I'd say." I look him up and down. "Do you think I'm sexy?"

"Ashley, I don't-" He's taken to calling me by my first name now. He's had three drinks in thirty minutes so the effects of the alcohol would mask the sleeping tablets for him.

"Oh, come on. I've seen the way you look at me, Mr Chambers," I interrupt, I don't want to give him a chance to steer away from the conversation. I stand up, curve my fingers around the hem of my velvet dress and pull it up and over my head. Standing in front of him in nothing but a matching set of pink underwear. His eyes widen as he looks me over, taking in every single inch of my body.

"Beautiful," he breathes out. The tip of his tongue darting over his lips, swiping left to right and coating them with thick saliva. I'm going to definitely need to be fucked after this. This man is gross. "Come here," he curves his finger and I walk towards him. "Take off your bra," he breathes, his erection growing.

But not that much. I reach behind my back, unclasping the hooks of the bra and let it drop to the floor, displaying my breasts for him. My nipples peaking instantly from the warmth in the room. Kneeling between his legs, I run my hands up his thighs and grip the buckle of his belt.

"I was thinking, I should thank you for helping me tonight." I unbuckle the belt. "It can be our little secret?"

He huffs out a laugh, tossing back the rest of the whiskey in his glass. Dropping his head back onto the seat. "Make it good, Ashley," he sighs. "Choke on it for me."

I'm going to need to scrub my body later.

"Keep your eyes closed for me," I purr. "Let me take care of you."

He shuffles in his seat as I pull the zip of his trousers down to reveal his tighty-whities. Wrapping my hand around his tiny little dick I grimace. That's it, it's official, I'm cutting this fucking hand off later, his groans fill the room as I begin to slide my hand up and down his shaft. He simply sits there, mouth open and a grin displayed for the world to see.

This man couldn't be happier about the aspect of a nineteen-year-old girl deepthroating his mummified penis. I might be fucking a man who is thirty-eight, but at least he looks like a Greek god. At least he fucks me in such a depraved way that I beg for more. Shit, I've even been fucked by the local serial killer and even this is worse than that.

Reaching around the back of my knickers, I wrap my fingers around the syringe, keeping my eyes on him, but he's far too busy enjoying this to notice. I bite the cap off the end and gently, very gently, pierce the skin, squeezing the contents inside him. Pulling away, I lean back on my knees and stand up. Snatching my bra from the floor, I put it back on and make my way back over to the sofa. Lifting my previously discarded dress from the arm of the chair, I slide it back on.

"What are you doing?!" Joseph demands. "Get back here and suck me off!"

Well that kicked in quicker than I thought.

"Jesus, you could be a little more polite about it considering you're about to have a fucking heart attack." I turn around, sitting back on the couch in front of him and smiling. "You have enough Temazepam in your system to put out a horse and enough Fentanyl to kill one," I sigh, leaning back.

"What are you," He shakes his head, trying to clear the buzz, "talking about?"

"I drugged you," I grin.

Joseph begins to laugh. "I like role playing," he holds up his hands, laughing. "I'm so scared."

"You should be." I check my watch and smile. "It will start to kick in soon. I'd say," I look at him, "in about thirty seconds." Tucking my hair behind my ears, I stare at him. Waiting for it all to kick in. "Joseph, you already look like you're going to pass out from lack of sleep alone. I clearly didn't give you enough because you should've been unconscious way before now."

"This is some kind of joke, right?" His brows furrow as he stares into my eyes. Waiting for my laughter, I guess. But this is no laughing matter. This is really happening.

"I don't joke. Cross my heart it's real." Taking the proof from my purse, I lean in and show him. "See." His eyes flick to the syringe and then back to meet mine. His facial expressions aren't quite there yet but his eyes… It's all in the eyes. "I know you believe me now. Your eyes give you away."

"Why?" A simple word, with so many answers.

"That word holds so much weight, but I'll start simple for you. That way you can understand everything up until the point your heart gives out."

He blinks rapidly and shakes his head. "What the fu-" The sound of him coughing and clearing his throat makes me smile even wider. So wide my cheeks begin to burn.

I didn't expect to enjoy this as much as I do. Number two on my list. I never would've put myself down for a murderer though. I guess I just didn't have a reason until now.

"You remember Maisy Lee." He looks at me instantly, his face draining of colour as the realisation hits him.

"You're…"

"We're not talking about me, Joseph; we're talking about her now. So, keep up will you. She sadly ended her life last year. Why?" The look on his face proves that what I'm doing to him, is worth it. There's nothing. No realisation for him. He truly believes that what he did to her was normal.

"Do you even remember what you did to her?"

"I didn't do anything to her!" He snarls.

"Come on, I think we're past the point of lying now, aren't we?"

"Excuse me?"

I'm calm, I know what I'm doing, and I know no one can stop me. I've watched the walrus here for the past week. Keeping out of sight the entire time. I know that he lives alone, has no friends, nobody who checks on him and absolutely no one that gives a fuck if he lives or dies. I also know that Nathan will be next in line to take the dean position from him, and having Joseph out of the picture, will put him there.

I also know that having Nathan there will make things so much easier for me in the near future too. Soon, I'll be watching this man die slowly before my eyes. I'll watch as the blood begins to reverse itself up his arm and the pain in his chest becomes too much for him to handle. I just wish she was here to see it. I wish I could take back all the pain this sick fucker caused her.

"Do you remember her coming to you? Begging for help? Do you remember how you took advantage of her, forcing her to her knees in exchange for being kept safe from her bullies?"

"I don't know what-" the words are cut off by a round of coughs. "W-what you're talking about." He speaks through the onslaught, pressing his hand to his chest.

"Let me refresh your memory." Even from where I'm sitting, I can see that his pupils are already blown out from the drugs. Small beads of sweat beginning to form at his hairline and chest. I mean, the man is still sitting there with his cock out. Not that there's much of it but still, he should put it away.

This shouldn't take too long. That way I can clean everything up, remove any trace of myself and still make it to the study group in time. I'm filled with rage, I want to stab him to death, cut his obese little body up in to tiny pieces and leave him scattered around the house for when the police arrive.

However, I can't do that. I don't want to do that. Not really. I want to watch him suffer, to watch him deteriorate, just like he watched her. I want to watch the panic form on his face the same way he did hers every single time.

"She came to you for help, and what did you do?" I wait for his answer. Taking in a deep breath, I cross my leg over my knee, watching his face become redder by the second as he begins to claw at his chest.

"If you're starting to feel dizzy, that's the Fentanyl. Don't worry too much though it will be over soon." Sticking his fingers down his throat he vomits over the side of the leather chesterfield. The dark brown liquid from the whiskey splattering on the cream carpet. "There's no need to ruin the carpet. Also, being sick won't help," I pick the invisible lint from my dress. "I injected it into your bloodstream, you can't vomit that up. So, if you could be quiet for a moment, we could have this talk."

"You're s-sick." he chokes out. His words hoarse and I can already hear the panicked tones latching on to every single word he manages to get out.

"You sexually assaulted her. Continuously. For eight months." He laughs then with what little energy he has left and my face drops.

"I didn't give her anything she didn't want."

"She wanted help and you saw that as an opportunity to touch her, fuck her and ruin her innocence. You may not have fucked her with the button mushroom you call a dick but forcing her to her knees is the same thing."

"It's no different than what-" The coughing takes over and he tries to stand up, wabbling on his feet I watch as he falls to the floor.

"What?" Cupping my hand to my ear, I lean forward slightly. "Sorry, can you repeat that, I didn't quite hear you." With sweat coating his face and dripping to the end of his nose. He rolls over onto his back and grasps his arm.

"Oh… my… Please… help me."

"Look at you." I stand from the couch, placing a leg either side of him as I crouch down and sit on his chest. His breathing is sporadic now.

"You'll never… get away… with this." The words tight in his throat, he doesn't even believe his own words.

"Oh, no?" Raising my eyebrows, I lean in, my forearms resting on my knees. "Tell that to Francesa Lopez, you wouldn't believe how easy she was to kill."

There it is.

His eyes widen in realisation that he's not about to make it out of this. That he will in fact die here. And I have front row seats to the performance of a lifetime. Watching ever so calmly as the Fentanyl takes effect and brings on the heart attack.

"The best thing about this, they'll never know. By the time you're found in three days, the opioid will be out of your system and on tox reports, they don't check for synthetics. This will just be a sad state of affairs. I can see it now," I hold my hands up in front of me. "Joseph Chambers, Dean of Admissions at Brown University, dead of suspected heart attack." I sigh in happiness.

Leaning forward again, I watch as he struggles to breathe, the blood vessels in his eyes popping as the attack to his heart takes over.

"This was the least you deserved," I whisper. "Too bad you won't be here to see the rest." Joseph releases his last breath and stills underneath me. "I expected more." I screw up my face. "Just going to clean everything up and then I'll be out of your hair."

Pressing my hands to my knees, I push to stand and step over the dead body. Humming a happy tune, as I make my way into the kitchen in search of cleaning products.