The Shadow

Watching Ashley walk around the university like she didn't just kill two people in the space of a week is jarring. Since hiding that girl's body, Ashley's all I've been able to think about. So much so, that it's given me a constant migraine ever since. I haven't been able to stop watching her. I'm there as she walks to class, when she takes her nightly run -which is fucking dangerous by the way- and I'm even there when she showers.

It's crazy. I've never been this obsessed with being everywhere someone is before. It's like, the harder I try to ignore her, the more my brain won't allow it. It's like I'm in a constant state of denial. I want her, but I don't want to kill her. As of this moment, I'm watching her walk out of a fucking restaurant with a guy.

She's on a fucking date and I can't stand it. I've had to patiently sit here while he's had his grubby little hands all over her perfect body. All over what belongs to me. The sex in the forest last week was fucking incredible and I haven't been able to get my mind off it since it happened.

The way her soaking wet pussy sucked in every single inch of my cock, the way her breathy moans sounded in the silence and darkness of the woods. The way her whimpers tortured me, having me second guess killing her. No woman has ever had this effect on me before, living or dead for that matter. I can't work out what it is about Ashley that has basically halted my desire to kill.

Take the last three days for example, I was watching this woman I met at a bar just outside of town and not once have I had the desire to cut her heart out. I wasn't even able to get hard as the thoughts flowed into my mind's eye.

It's like I don't want to kill her anymore, but more like I want to kill for her now. The way she so elegantly stabbed that brunette girl to death gave me the biggest and most painful hard on of my life, and I knew then that fucking her would end the night perfectly.

It was almost as good as our first time. Almost. Granted, she won't have any recollection of that so I can't really ask her to compare the two. The pressure building behind my black combats is killing me and I shake all thoughts of fucking Ashley into the back of my mind. Pressing my back close to the brick wall down the dark alley, I watch as she stops at her car with Mr I Fuck Kids. Because let's face it, the guy looks like a fucking paedophile.

"Well, that was fun." She smiles, and I feel the anger burn my skin.

That smile belongs to me.

"It was."

I want to punch that smug fucking look off his face. My girl presses her palms to his chest the moment he leans in to kiss what belongs to me.

"I don't think that's a good idea, David." Giving him a tight smile, she steps back. The look of disgust on his face tells me everything I need to know about this guy.

"I just spent a hundred bucks on you. The least you can do is suck my dick, bitch." He grabs the back of her neck and forces her for a kiss.

It takes every ounce of control I have left in my body, to stop myself from marching over there and stabbing him to death. Ashley's movement is swift as I watch her kick him right between the legs. He falls to the ground like a sack of shit as she proceeds to spit on him.

"Fuck you!" she screams over her shoulder, opening her car door and speeding out of the carpark.

"Oh, Ashley you shouldn't have," I laugh as I leave the shadows of the alley and cross the road towards him.

What a wonderful gift.

David's groggy sounds fill the room. Raising his head, he grimaces as he looks around the darkened room with nothing, but a single light turned on above his head.

It takes him a moment to register the thick ropes wrapped around his torso. I watch as his head snaps from left to right, looking at the cable ties that wrap round his wrists and the wooden arm rest of the chair he sits on.

"What the fuck?" The words quiet enough that if I wasn't in the room, I wouldn't hear them. Yet here I am, sitting in the pitch-black corner of the warehouse I have him tied up in. This place has been abandoned for a while and nobody comes out here anyway. This is the usual place I hold my victims till the eventuality of their untimely death.

"Hello!" His hard voice bounces off the cold and cracked stone walls and I end up wondering if this is what he sounds like when he has sex.

What the fuck.

Shaking the thought from my mind I lean forward on the chair, sucking the cold night air into my lungs. The mouldy smell running through the decayed warehouse makes the hair on my arms stand on end.

"Hello?" He repeats, again, and I groan in response, and he whips his head around, twisting what little movement he has of his body. "Hello?... Who's there?"

"Please shut up. Your voice is annoying." Bracing my hands on my knees, I push to stand and take three steps into the light. I'm dressed head to toe in black, with my hood pulled up and a balaclava on. Nothing but my eyes on show. "I'd never have put you for a whiney little bitch just by looking at you." Rubbing my eyes with the heels of my palms.

"Who are you?" his voice filled with fear. Just how I like them. "Whatever you think I've done-" Curious about what he thinks I think he's done; I take another step forward and drag my chair behind me. The screeching of the wood against the cement floor makes me cringe.

"What exactly do you think that I think you could have possibly done?" I sit in the chair, resting the black machete on both my knees. Grinning behind my black mask. Not that he can see.

"The girl," he swallows, his throat bobbing up and down. "She… she wanted to have sex. She said she did and I-"

"Wait a second," I hold up my hand, silencing him as the words run through my mind. "Did you rape someone?" I chuckle, my voice muffled as he stares into my cold dead eyes.

"N-no I-" he begins to stutter.

"Did she tell you to stop?" I interject, begging, praying for him to tell me ‘yes'.

"Help!!!" He screams again.

"Help!!" I stand up, mimicking him. "Help! Help!" Cupping my hands on either side my mouth, I scream louder. Till my throat burns. I look down at him, the stillness of his body. His lean muscles pressing through the rope as he struggles to break free. "David, David, stop." My hands embrace the top of his shoulders, my fingers squeeze into the soft woollen fabric of his surprisingly soft sweatshirt. "Is this Cashmere?"

"What?" He's clearly never been in a situation quite like this before.

"I hate repeating myself, but seeing as you're in a predicament, I'll ask one more time. Is. This. Cashmere?" I pinch the wool and roll it between my fingers.

"Y-yes."

"Nice…So, the girl you were on a date with tonight. She belongs to me and-"

"Look I don't want her; you can have her." Does he really think I've tied him up over a woman? I have but that's beside the point. The main point I've come to realise, is that this is the first time in a week I've been excited to end someone's life. And funnily enough, it's a man.

First time for everything I guess.

Bending down, I wrap my hand around the handle of the machete, I strategically place by his side, removing it from the guard.

"It would seem that mommy and daddy never taught you not to touch things that don't belong to you." I steady myself beside him, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Please, wait a second I don't-"

Lifting the machete above my head, I swiftly bring it down and the blade slices through his left hand in one fell swoop. His screams of pain fill the warehouse as his hand flops to the floor. Blood squirting from his wrist. Closing my eyes, I revel in the sound as it pierces my eardrums, flowing down the entire length of my body.

Coming too, I focus on the other hand and hack that one off too. The squeals coming from his throat remind me of a pig. High pitched. I circle in front of him, watching as he writhes around in agony, blood pooling beneath his feet. Snot, tears and sweat covering his face.

"It's nearly over, just breathe with me." Usually, all that crap over his face would make me feel sick. I mean even the women I've killed don't look this bad. "Last one big guy."

Raising the machete again, this time holding it in both hands I slice through the air, aiming the blade to the side of his neck. As the blade travels towards its destination, everything slows down. My brain engaging with the action as though I'm in slow motion.

I watch as his eyes widen, and in that moment, time stops. I watch as the blade cuts through the skin, the tendons snapping back from the muscle as the metal glides through his neck. Blood spraying everywhere when I pull the blade loose. Sweat building over my entire body as I rain down blow after blow.

When David's head eventually falls to the ground, I drop the machete to the floor and one of two things register to me as I frantically play with the button and zip on my trousers. One, that was quite possibly the most aggressive and messy murder I've ever committed and two, I'm desperately stroking my cock at the sight of David's headless body in front of me. I've never felt this turned on in my life. I've never wanted to please myself this way either.

"Holy fucking shit," I breathe, incapable of stopping. The angry purple head of my thick shaft staring up at me in as I wank myself silly over David's dead body. "Oh my god."

I'm frantic, desperate to come all over the severed neck. Gripping my cock hard, I twist my fist up and down as I continue to fuck myself. The orgasm building in the soles of my feet and rising up my legs, heavier the moment it reaches my stomach. As I step to the left, I accidentally kick the severed head and it rolls back and forth on the floor.

I freeze. Instantly questioning what I'm actually about to do. I bend down and lift David's head from the floor. Looking around, I check to make sure nobody may have heard the screaming and come by to take a look. The last thing I want anyone to see me do, is fuck a severed head.

Pulling the jaw open, I thread my dick into the hole and sit back onto the chair. Dropping my head back I close my eyes as I begin to move it up and down on my strained shaft. The pain of needing to come is unlike anything I've experienced and the quicker I come the quicker I can-

"Fuck that feels good." The words leave my lips as I begin to pump faster and faster. My head dropping back as my mouth opens and my breaths become heavy. The feel of his lopsided tongue as it hangs from his mouth. The feel of his teeth as they gently drag along the sensitive underside of the veins along my cock.

Knowing I ended this man's life because he touched the one thing that belongs to me, gives me an understanding of the situation I never thought of before. I imagine it's Ashleys head that I'm fucking, but that it's still attached to her body and she's alive. Images of her on her knees as I choke her to death, while my dick is thrusting in and out of her throat and mouth, fill me with the most sexually charged emotions.

The pressure building behind my eyes as my eyelids shoot open and, in that moment, as I look down into my lap, I realise what I'm doing.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" I shout. Launching the decapitated head across the room with a thump as it hits the adjacent wall. Chills run up my spine as the realisation of what I've just done hits me. "What the fuck am I doing?"

The bile rises in my throat as the realisation hits me. Fisting my hair, I begin to pace the floor in front of the body before me as the panic settles in my chest and it's then that I look down and notice my dick hasn't gone soft.

"What's wrong with you!? Go down! God damn it!!" I scream at the hardened appendage. "I'm gonna be sick." Is all I manage to get out, before the vomit practically projectiles from my throat.