Page 35 of Little Psycho

Once we reachthe chief’s mansion, he helps me inside, and I let him, pretending to be the damsel in distress he wishes I truly was.He brings me to a room in the basement, the eerie atmosphere giving off the same sick, twisted vibes as my own house.Fear washes over my face, but he thinks it’s from the masked man—it’s not.

“Come sit, little thing.I’ll make sure you’re safe here while we wait for your parents to come get you.”He tugs me onto his lap with a little force in his pull, his hand locked around my wrist possessively.

Falling onto his lap, he then wraps his arm around my waist, preventing me from going anywhere.I can feel the stubble from his poorly shaven beard scratch against the back of my neck as he licks along my shoulder blades, but I stifle a shiver like I’ve done so many times before.

My shaky hand slides into the pocket of my sweatshirt, gripping the handle of my knife until my knuckles pulse from the strength of my grip.

One...

I count under my breath as his hand slides between my legs, forcing them open.I knew coming here would tempt his inner pedophile, and lucky for me, I was counting on it.

Two…

His other hand slides up the front of my shirt, cupping my breast, a grunt of desire escaping his lips when he notices I’m not wearing a bra—done on purpose.

“You were ready for me,” he says.“Good girl, Calista.”

A shudder rocks my body, one of pure disgust, but he takes it as one of need and keeps groping me.Shifting slightly on his lap so I have better aim at his throat, I rock against his cock and feel it harden, waiting to make my move once his eyes flutter closed.

Three…

As soon as they close, I pull my hand out of my pocket, wielding my knife, and make a precise slash across the front of his throat.His hands fall from my body, instinctively reaching up to his wound to clutch it to stop the bleeding.

“Wh...”he gasps, choking on his own blood.

“You shouldn’t have touched me, Chief,” I purr, winking as I push him onto his back and straddle him, stabbing my blade all over his body.

Blood pours out quickly, seeping into the fabric beneath him and turning the pearl-white lace bright red.

As his eyes widen in horror, a smile creeps onto my face as I continue to stab him, relishing in the feeling of his blood as it splatters all over my face.I keep slicing and stabbing—losing control—not stopping until his entire body is a bloody canvas full of deep, unforgiving gashes—a beautiful work of art—a fucking masterpiece.

Lastly, as he gargles on his blood and his body twitches, going into shock, I pull his saturated pants down and put my knife to his flaccid dick, watching closely as I cut into it like a piece of fucking meat on my dinner plate.I leave his balls intact, holding the useless member in my hand as I force his mouth open.

“Remember when you told me to open my mouth for you, Robert?”I ask, hearing how psychotic my voice sounds.“Well, it’s time for you to be a good boy for me and open up,” I laugh, knowing that he’s already dead.

Still, I pry his jaw open and push his severed cock inside, forcing it down his esophagus with the handle of my knife.

Although I had planned to use all the tools I brought, things escalated, and I went right for the kill.It was still satisfying, but I make a mental note for my next one to have some more fun with him before I watch the life drain from his eyes while I drain the blood from his body.

Standing up as if nothing ever happened, I grab my backpack and slip into the bathroom, careful not to touch anything as I turn on the shower with a rag covering my hand.Robert’s the chief of police, so I know his ‘brothers’ will scour this place from top to bottom, and I don’t plan on being dumb enough to leave any trace of myself behind.

I wash the blood off carefully, adrenaline still pumping rapidly through my veins like a shot of meth, giving me a new kind of high that I already want to feel again.

Once clean and dressed in the spare outfit I keep in my bag, I put on the wig and leave the bathroom.As I glance at Robert’s lifeless body, relief spreads through my body like wildfire, settling my anxious nerves and putting them at ease a little bit more.

“You got what you fucking deserve, you sick fuck,” I spew, reaching into my backpack again to pull out a single flash drive secured in a Ziploc bag.

Loaded with all of the evidence I found on him—including child porn, chats with other pedophiles, and invites to my birthday parties—I leave the baggie where I know the cops will find it before the fire I’m about to set destroys it.

Before slinging my backpack over my shoulders and making my way out of the mansion, I take the time to wipe things down one more time, not wanting to make a single mistake to get myself caught already.

And just like Mr.Brown’s house, I rummage through Robert’s house, pocketing any cash and valuables that might be useful to me during my journey.I retrieve the lighter fluid from my bag and squeeze it all over him and the bed, careful not to get it on the floor.And then I light the match and drop it onto his soaked torso, watching his dead, bloody body ignite in a giant ball of flames.

The heat is almost too much to bear, but I force myself to stay and watch him burn for a little while longer.But with heavy regret and longing, I slip out of the mansion, watching the flames brighten up his bedroom from the outside window as I walk away slowly.

Even more turned on and worked up than I was earlier, I walk down the street, knowing that I’ve left the ultimate trace on Robert and his disgusting ways.He got what he deserved.Now, onto getting me that release I’ve been fucking craving.

Mother

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