Page 86 of The Blue Rose
She tries to get out, her handle jammed. “I dropped my phone; I’ll be right back.” Grabbing her hand, I pull her back, shutting the door and locking it. “That’s not funny, asshole; let me out. Right now. I changed my mind; I don't want to celebrate with you anymore.” I stare at her, the beast rising to the surface. “Seriously! Let me the fuck out!” she screams. She turns around and starts banging on the window. “Help! Someone, help me!” No one can hear her over the screams coming from the haunted house. Her screams melding with theirs, making a beautiful melody of fear. I take her distraction as my chance to reach in the glove box and grab the syringe already filled with ketamine. Her banging becomes louder as she finally realizes the trap she’s snared in. “Please! He's crazy. Help me!” I stab the needle in her neck and release the liquid. She grabs her neck, looks at me wide eyed, and passes out. I place her seat belt around her and drive us back, excited to cash in my gift.
I’ve waited three years to cash in my birthday kill, although not intentional, and not on my birthday, I’m thrilled to get blood on my hand one more time before my vixen returns. I was hoping this year I could celebrate my birthday with my little vixen, especially after learning she truly is like me, but there is always next year. I have a feeling she will enjoy taking lives just as much as me. Her darkness matches mine, after all.
“Where am I?”
I turn around, already dressed in my work uniform, not even bothering to put on gloves since her body will be burned. She’s strapped to the metal table, without a gag, because what fun would that be? I want to hear her screams. I want to revel in them. The only light I have on is the one above her, preventing her from seeing who is hovering over her. She looks around, trying to lift her arms and break free.
“What the fuck? Okay, asshole, this isn’t funny anymore.”
A Cheshire smile lifts my cheeks. “Actually, it is,” she gasps, her body tense, as she squints where my voice traveled from. I walk into the light, so she can see exactly who her captor is. “Hello, Sherry.”
Her face turns red, her eyebrows pinching down as her body freezes. “You?” she seethes, “Untie me right now, or so help me God.”
I click my tongue, my frustration becoming evident. “God, or any deity for that matter, won’t be helping you.” She starts squirming even more, looking for a way out of her binds. She’ll soon find when I want someone bound, they stay trapped until they’re no longer of this earth.
Fear starts to enter her voice when she realizes she can’t get out. “Why are you doing this?”
I groan, a shiver tracking down my spine. My favorite part. Thewhy. The reason they’re on my table; telling her is going to be a sweet,sweettreat.
Walking around behind her, I take a piece of her hair, lifting it, examining it, then dropping it like the nothing she is. “Remember our conversation from earlier? The one at Graves?”
“You mean when you fired me?!” She scoffs. “How could I forget?”
“Before that; think back, Sherry, it’s very important. About the owner; what did I say?”
Her eyes crinkle as she remembers our conversation. Her eyes squint, jumping around, trying to remember exactly what I said. “You wanted to celebrate your birthday early, and that’s why I’m here? Listen, I love to be tied up as much as the next girl, but ever hear of consent? Fucking asshole.”
This bitch is dumber than a box of rocks. Granted, I did have to flirt to get her to come to my car. I hated having to do that. I felt guilty. A feeling I wasn’t used to, a pang pounding in my chest because all I could think about was what Serena would think. It isn’t just me anymore, it’s my vixen too, but it's in my nature, and Sherry needed to be punished for her blatant disrespect.
“No. Think harder. Before we went into the house.”
Her head turns away from me and her hand twitches, like if she could, she would bring it up to her lips to think harder. “You said if I knew the owner, then you’d have to…” she gulps “kill me.”
I clap my hands together making her jump as much as one can when they’re tied down.
“Ding, ding, ding! We have ourselves a winner; guess you aren’t as dumb as you look.”
Her voice trembles, her eyes unable to meet mine. “But… but you didn’t tell me who the owner was.” Hope reignited her voice. Hearing that spark is going to make it all the more delicious when her fate comes crashing down.
I place my hands behind my back. “You’re right; I didn’t. Shall I tell you?” Glee registering in my tone.
“N-no,” she stutters, “I’m good.”
I throw my hands to my side, a manic grin slashing my face. “Pity. I thought you wanted to celebrate my birthday with me early,” I pout. “You are, after all, my present.” Sherry’s body freezes, her eyes snapping to meet mine, only to find the devil staring back at her.
She masks her emotions, putting back on that brave face. “Nope; totally good. Now untie me, and we can pretend none of this ever happened.”
Funny, she thinks she’s leaving here alive and believes I’m stupid enough to trust she wouldn’t tell a soul.
My face hardens, my voice severe. “I’m the owner of Graves, and you, Sherry, made a big mistake crossing me when I was itching for a new victim.”
The hope starting to burn through her snuffs out in an instant, and she starts to cry. I close my eyes, soaking in the fear being released with her tears.She was alot weaker than I thought; she put on a ‘fuck off, I’m a badass bitch’ vibe, but underneath her carefully crafted exterior was just a weak little girl.
Pity, I wanted to break her.
“Please, please,” she begs, sobbing, snot starting to leak from her nose. “I’m sorry, okay! I shouldn’t have been such a bitch. I know I was, and I’m sorry. Please,pleasedon’t kill me.”
I turn around and open the drawer filled with my collection of knives. I select the one I use specifically for my birthday victims. A twelve inch, curved cimeter knife.Perfect for carving.
