Page 27 of The Blue Rose
I never break my promises.
I stand in front of my car, several cars back from Tylers, in total darkness, the only light from the bud of my cigarette.
When I see Tyler exit his car, with a short, lithe redhead. She looks drunk, swaying back and forth, in her sky high heels and black mini dress, too short for this weather. It’s still warm during the day, but at night it’s cooler and most have a coat on.She’s wearing next to nothing, her intentions clear in her outfit. She laughs at something Tyler said to her, while he holds her up.
How can this fuck face go on another date? Although, this looks more like a booty call than a date. The person he was texting outside, must have been her, already lining up another date, because of his failed one. I’m happy his date ended horribly, but my jaw ticks as I step into my car, thinking that he could just discard my little lamb so easily.
My fingers tap on the steering wheel to the beat of “Undead” by Hollywood Undead.Breaking my first rule yet again has me drumming harder with every beat. This kill is more deserving than Gary. Tyler touched and tried to force himself on what’smine, and for that, I will make his death slow and painful.
The stars start to become brighter, as the surrounding businesses, aside from a few, start to close and turn off their light. I pull out a pack of spearmint gum and start chewing, waiting for Tyler and his date to drive away. After what seems like forever, my gum having lost its flavor, I throw it out the window. A dark smile lighting my lips, as Tyler speeds out of the parking spot, onto the street, and I pursue, keeping my distance so he doesn’t catch onto being followed.
We drive for fifteen minutes before he pulls into a neighborhood, pulling in front of a house leaving the engine running. I kill the lights on my car and park it far enough where he can’t see me, but close enough I can see him.
Five minutes pass before the redhead gets out running into the house and then back down her driveway into his car. They speed off, and I follow them to a bar, in the more shady side of town, my favorite hunting ground. No lights, cameras, or witnesses. If people happen to see me leave with my victim they keep their mouths shut, they know the cardinal rule.Snitches get stitches.The things that happen here, even have the authorities avoiding it like the plague. So to see Tyler take thered head here, makes me wonder what nefarious things he has in store for her, not that I care.
I stay outside in my car, and wait for them to come out. When minutes turn to hours I grow bored, and take out the word search I keep in my middle console. When I’m watching my little lambs, learning their schedules, and seeing if they have any family or friends who would miss them. I spend that time in my car solving my word searches when I can’t be near them. They help calm me, help me clear my head and get into the right headspace to hunt. Finishing five pages, I look up and see them leaving the bar. I kept a tail on him, and now here we are at his house.
They walk up the driveway, and I see the girl curling over herself, hand over her mouth, looking like she’s about to throw up. A second later, her hand leaves her mouth and she vomits all over Tyler. He yells something, I’m too far away to hear, or read his lips, parked across the street, a couple houses down, hidden under the hanging branches of a tree. He pushes her down, and stomps into his house leaving her there sick and crying on the cold cement.
“Fucking douche,” I mutter. While waiting, I pull out my phone and text Serena good night and put it back in the cup holder and wait for the redhead to leave.
Ten minutes pass and a car pulls up; probably an Uber. The red head gets in, she leaves crying and covered in vomit. I wait another ten minutes for good measure, making sure there are no cameras anywhere. If there’s one thing I will take from my parents training, is always being vigilant when hunting and making sure there are never any cameras, and if there are, avoid them.
I don’t know this neighborhood, or if his neighbors have any cameras. I place a hat on my head, hoodie up, and bring the ski mask up hiding my identity. Jumping over his locked fence, Ifind the backdoor is unlocked, quietly I open it and step inside, hearing the shower running.
Lucky me.
I find a pantry in the kitchen and slip inside and wait for him to go to his room. The slits through the door let me see when the door to the bathroom opens, steam billowing around him. He’s got a towel wrapped around his waist.Thank God.He walks to his bedroom and shuts the door. I hear the bed creak, waiting another ten or so minutes to be on the safe side, then I make my way to his room; stealthily. Under the door, I see that the lights are off, I crack open his door, and find him sleeping soundly.
This really is too easy.
I stand over his body, watching him, waiting for his senses to kick in and wake him up.
Counting the breaths he takes, I stand behind him, and his breathing starts to become faster. He jolts up, chest heaving, eyes tired and wild, searching in the dark for what woke him. He catches his breath, shaking his head, thinking there is no threat until he turns over, and sees me staring down at him.
Before he has time to scream, the syringe I keep in my car is in his neck, ketamine flooding his system and knocking him out once again. I smirk knowing this time he’ll be out much longer.
Tyler lives in a nice neighborhood, so I need to be extra careful getting him to my car. I sling his arm over my shoulder making it look like I’m helping a drunk friend to my car if anybody sees us. Not that they would. It is three in the morning and most people are inside asleep.
We make it to my car unnoticed, and I lay him in the backseat before heading home.
It takesan hour to get home, I avoid all cameras, and take the scenic route home to ensure I’m not followed and I don’t follow any predictable patterns. When we get to the road that leads to my house, I drive past my home, heading straight to my work space. I park and get out of the car. A cool breeze hits me instantly and I inhale the humid air.
I never did well in the heat, the sun has always been my enemy. I thrive in the cooler weather, especially with how I dress, always in pants.
I walk back to my car and drag Tyler's body from the back seat. He is still knocked out which makes it easier to get his body in and on my table.
While he sleeps, I strap him down and get all my tools ready. This kill was spontaneous and unlike me, nothing is prepped. My space doesn’t have any plastic laid down, my tools aren’t laid out, and my incinerator isn’t turned on.
What is my little lamb doing to me?
I pace around the room, not sure where to start. Everything is messed up. My mind is in shambles. Part of me doesn’t care, I so badly just want to end his life for touching what is mine. The other part of me knows if I don’t get prepped, the clean up after what I have planned will take longer.
Here I am living in chaos, killing another man, all for my little lamb. Slipping on my overalls, I start laying down plastic, and start to prep, letting the meticulous side of me win.
Finishing the set up, he is still asleep. I look down at his face, my knuckles turning white, thinking about how he was on a datewithmylittle lamb. I crack my neck, trying to loosen the tension building there.
Seeing him laying there, thinking back to how he tried to kiss what’s mine, my anger wins over and I grab his hand and break his pointer finger.
