Page 50 of Wicked Little Nightmare

"Wait, wait!" he blubbered, his cocky grin replaced by a pathetic grimace. "I—I can tell you more! Just... please, don't kill me!"

“What?” I hurled a spitball, pleasantly surprised when it landed smack dab in the middle of his forehead.

He sighed. “My laptop. It has everything. If you just let me go, I can help you. I promise.”

“Thank you for your service, Skeeter.”

I didn't even blink. My mind was made up the moment this piece of shit opened his mouth. Without breaking eye contact, I pulled out my blade, its edge glinting in the dim light.

“But you sa—”

"Nah, I didn’t, you just assumed." I said, my voice cold as ice. "Should've thought about that before you decided to play games. Thank you for your honesty, may your sacrifice please Chimera."

In one fluid motion, I plunged the knife into Skeeter's chest. He let out a strangled gasp, eyes wide with shock. I twisted the blade, feeling the resistance of flesh and bone give way. It was almost too easy, like cutting through warm butter as I sliced upward, splitting his sternum like a cracked egg. Taking my knife, I pushed it in again, starting with his left nipple and slicing horizontally to his right. A beautiful cross.

The room fell dead silent, save for the wet gurgle of Skeeter's final breath. I stepped back, wiping my blade clean on his shirt. Normally I wasn’t so theatrical, but given how fucking stupid this whole situation was, I thought it called for a bit of fun.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," I muttered, glancing over at Lakey.

She was grinning from ear to ear, her eyes sparkling with a mix of admiration and bloodlust. "Efficient as always, babe," she purred. "Though I kinda wish you'd let me have a go at him first."

I couldn't help but smirk. "Next time, my wicked little psycho. Promise."

A high-pitched giggle burst from Lakey's lips, echoing off the dingy walls as adrenaline set in. Her eyes raked over me, drinking in the sight of Skeeter's blood splattered across my chest and arms. We’d gotten what we needed, and I could take it from here.

"Holy shit, Cam," she breathed, her voice dripping with desire. "You look fucking gorgeous right now."

I met her gaze, feeling that familiar rush of light-headedness and arousal hitting me, as it always did after a kill. The corner of my mouth twitched up in a half-smile. "Yeah?"

I took a step back, letting the blood drip from my fingers onto the grimy floor. Lakey's eyes followed every crimson droplet, her pupils dilating with each splash.

"God, yes," she whispered, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "It's like... art. Bloody, beautiful art."

I chuckled, low and dark. "You always did have a twisted sense of aesthetics, Lakes."

My mind was already racing, calculating our next move. We'd have to clean this mess up, dispose of the body. But for now, I let myself bask in the moment, in the intoxicating mix of violenceand desire that always followed our little 'adventures'. The endorphin release was phenomenal, and I was hard as a rock.

"You know," I mused, running a blood-stained hand through my hair, "we should probably get cleaned up before we split. Can't exactly waltz out of here looking like extras from a slasher flick."

Lakey's grin turned wicked. "Mmm, I don't know. I kinda like you all... messy."

I smirked, watching her eyes roam over my blood-soaked body. "As much as I'd love to indulge that little fantasy of yours, babe, be realistic. We can fuck if you want, but we do need to be clean at some point.” I chuckled, her mouth twisting downward. Knowing her, she was absolutely serious about us going out in public looking like we just escaped a horror film.

Lakey took a deep breath, her chest heaving slightly. "You're right, you're right. Shower time it is." She glanced at Skeeter's lifeless form, then back at me with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Hey, looks like we're finally having that threesome, huh? Too bad our friend here's a bit... stiff."

I couldn't help but laugh at her twisted humor. "Fuck, Lakes. That's dark, even for you."

We stepped over Skeeter's body, squeezing into the tight space his fat body left for us. I turned on the shower, the rusty pipes groaning in protest. As steam filled the small space, Lakey and I took turns washing the blood off each other. Her hands moved over my skin with a mix of reverence and hunger that almost made me bust right then.

"You know," she murmured, her fingers tracing the outline of my chest tattoo, "I don't think I've ever been more turned on in my life."

I grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer. "Yeah? Why don't you show me just how turned on you are, baby?"

Lakey's eyes flashed with desire. She pressed a quick, fierce kiss to my lips before sauntering out of the bathroom, leaving wet footprints in her wake. "Catch me if you can, big guy," she called over her shoulder.

I didn't need to be told twice. Following her into the bedroom, I felt that familiar surge of possessive lust. She was sprawled out on the bed, her wet hair bunched on the pillow, soaking through. It highlighted the wicked gleam in her eyes.

"Come here," she purred, crooking her finger at me.

---