Page 44 of No, For An Answer
“You’re the most interesting woman I’ve ever stalked, I’ll give you that.” Every word is said through soft laughter. The raspiness of his voice invigorating my every sense. Goosebumps trailing up my skin and I can’t tell if it’s the night air, or him being so close. I might not be afraid; I am however inquisitive.
“I thought brunettes were your type, anyway.” I fist another handful of popcorn and shovel it into my mouth. The crunching of the sweet and salty mixture permeating my tastebuds and releasing that happy endorphin.
“There’s a lot I’m doing lately that doesn’t match my usual killing pattern,” he sighs. Leaning over, a gloved hand snatches some popcorn from the bag as he lifts his black mask up andstuffs it into his mouth. He raises an eyebrow as he looks at me from the corner of his eye, winking at me in the darkness. A playful curve appears on his lips as he lowers the mask back down.
“How old are you, anyway?” He can’t be that old, I’m sure.
“Does it matter?” he responds, without so much as a look in my direction.
“You don’t look old,” I shrug, turning to face the door again.
How long are these bitches going to be?
“Definitely don’t fuck like you’re old.” The laugh I didn’t know I had bubbles up from my throat. The sound of his gentle laughter covers me, as the warmth of his breath turns white in the air. It’s then that I realise, this is the first time I’ve had a normal conversation. With a serial killer no doubt.
He stares at me. “That… That wasn’t supposed to happen.” As though he’s looking through every single wall I’ve built up to every single person in this world. Typical of me to start looking at a serial killer as something more than. I mean, this guy has killed eight women in the past year, and nobody has managed to catch him. Yet here we sit, together, talking like old friends.
Tilting my body to the side I nudge his shoulder to mine. “Considering you cut the hearts out of women's chests, I'd say that's the least of your worries.”
Smirking, he grabs another handful of popcorn, doing the same as before with his mask. The sound of laughter cuts into the air and I watch as the girls leave the building. Rubbing my hands together, I wipe away the invisible crumbs and stand. Placing the now empty packet of popcorn into the pocket of my puffer jacket and smile.
“You’re going to want to stand for this one.” I flick my hand at the side of me, gesturing for him to get up with me.
“What did you do?” His voice deep as he stands, watching the girls open the car and get in. Their shrill laughter making mewince as they close the doors simultaneously not knowing what’s coming next.
“Just watch.” I bite into my bottom lip and grin like a madman. The ignition on the car starts and for a split second I think I might have fucked everything up. The explosion booms and I flinch, taking a single step as my jaw drops. The hood of the car twisting in the air like a gymnast as fire engulfs the Range Rover Evoke.
The ringing in my ears screams as I focus on the screaming of the two girls scrambling to open the doors. The action has me involuntarily clapping my hands.
“A bomb?” He asks from beside me, taking a step forward into my peripheral.
“Kind of,” I chuckle. “I only attached some wire wool to the ignition wires, yanked them through and placed them into the petrol tank. Messed with the electronic locks on the car and well… Kaboom.” I mimic the explosion with my hands. “I didn’t actually believe it would work though.”
This time, I burst into fits of laughter and the sound of his laugh as he joins in, takes me back a little. I watch as the girls begin to smack their hands against the glass. Their muffled screams, and the pop, and crackle of the fire, are the only sounds flying through the air, as the ashy embers dance in the wind.
Their skin peeling away from their palms. The blisters breaking out all over their skin while the red and orange lights dance against our skin and within the reflection of his eyes. His chest rising and falling as he slowly turns to face me. Brushing the hair from my face he smiles.
“Get on your knees.” Gloved knuckles slowly trace my cheek. “Now.”
This is it; this is the moment he’s going to kill me. “Wait not yet I-” Twisting his hand in my hair, I wince at the pain as he pushes me to the ground. He crouches down in front of me, flicking theblade of the knife out, he then traces the tip against my throat, from left to right. I wince as it scrapes against the delicate skin.
“Give me your hand.” He breathes, not taking his eyes off of me. I lift my hand slowly, palm up, and he rests the sharp side of the blade against my skin. “Grip it… now.” One by one, I wrap each finger around the blade and hold it tightly.
Trying my hardest not to show fear. Because let’s face it, yes, I’m killing the people who hurt Maisy, but I still don’t want to be cut up either because-
“OUCH!” I shout, as he yanks the blade from my grasp. “What the fuck was that for asshole, that hurt!”
“Take my cock out, sweet girl.” He chuckles, as he stands. Gritting my teeth, I fumble with the buckle and zip of his trousers, pulling both the waistband of his boxers and trousers below his ass. Blood trickling from my palm, soaking into the fabric of my sleeve, which I fucking hate because wet fabric is vile. “Now touch me.”
His voice softer this time, but still demanding. I wrap my hand around his thick shaft and begin sliding my bloody hand up and down, in a twisting motion as I reach the tip. Coating his cock in blood, my blood.
I bring my mouth forward, pressing my tongue to the tip, catching the mixture of pre-cum and blood that lingers on the head. Without warning, he thrusts the head of his cock past my lips and down the back of my throat and the metallic taste of my blood, invades my senses. I instantly heave at the unexpected intrusion, before he pulls back out, slapping me with his cock. I look up at him then, his eyes even darker than before. More aggressive in nature. My core slick with desire.
“Choke on it, sweet girl, make it nice and wet for me.” Without a single moment to think it over, he thrusts back inside and bottoms out. The short, pubic hair at the base of his groin tickling my nose as I desperately try to breathe. He grips my hairin both hands and begins to fuck my throat, barely pulling out an inch before he’s thrusting back in.
My chest is heaving and screaming for air. On my knees for a man that who’s very hands have caused destruction and death wherever he goes. The small twigs and hard gravel from the soil below my knees, grind into my skin and I’m riddled with the memories from the last time he had me on my knees. There’s something wrong with me.
I could fight him off, bite down and remove the hard appendage from his body. But I don’t. I want this. The thrill and possibility that at any moment he could kill me. Grunting he pulls back out and I suck all the air I can into my lungs,
