Page 20 of Dark Torment

JONATHAN

Sometimes I’mastounded by how easily I can trail someone without them knowing, but then I remember that most people are idiots.

Fuck, I can’t even say that because then I’m saying Olivia is an idiot, but she’s not. She’s just incredibly naïve and sheltered. Yet, even with all of that, I can tell she senses eyes on her.

I watch her being guarded and looking around everywhere like she can feel my eyes on her, but she never sees me. I’m too good at hiding in plain sight.

This fool I’ve been following since Olivia left the restaurant is too dense for his own good. He hasn’t shown any indication that he’s noticed someone watching him, but it’s all I’ve been doing.

I’ve watched him for over four hours. He’s been to three different bars looking for a hookup, and no woman is taking the bait. It would be fucking hilarious if I wasn’t so pissed off at him for being a spineless coward.

I know why he chose my Olivia on that site, and it wasn’t to admire her the way I would, or the way she deserves. After hacking into his account, I realize he always chooses the newer accounts. Everyone that he’s messaged and met was bordering on underage. Some of them, I believe, were and just lying about it.

He preys on the younger and more innocent women because he believes they’re easier to manipulate into sex. I’ve seen it in the courtroom more times than I can count, and each time I prosecute bastards like him to the fullest extent the law will allow.

The pain and anguish I see on victims’ faces is seared into my mind for all eternity. Even when I fight with everything I have, the law almost always favours the assailant over the victim in terms of rape and sexual assault.

It’s a disgusting truth that I loathe because it’s the victims that deserve to be protected. They are the ones violated and their happiness stolen from them because of fear. The justice system does nothing to help them recover, and it’s disgusting.

At least Jeff here won’t be able to hurt anyone, and if he already has, then his victims will at least get justice and closure in knowing he died a gruesome and brutal death.

I stand across the street from his little house and watch until the lights are out, then wait another hour before making my move.

Just like Olivia’s place, it’s fairly easy to break in without being detected. There’s an alarm on the door, but it looks like the dumbass didn’t even bother setting it because it’s not showing signs of an intrusion. Even if it has signalled the provider and they contact the police, he will be dead by my hand long gone before they arrive.

This job is a quick in and out.

I’ve been wearing my leather gloves all night, but I toe off my shoes outside the door so they don’t track my footprints when they do a crime scene check.

It hasn’t rained in a while, and the fact that I’ve stepped on concrete the entire way in here is a bonus for me. It’s almost too easy. Like the universe is willing me to take out this piece of shit.

Making my way into the kitchen, I check his knives until I find the meat cleaver tucked away in the back of a drawer. Checking it for sharpness, I feel the grin on my face as I silently close the drawer. I check a couple of other drawers until I find the last of what I’m looking for.

It’s almost comical how almost every household has a drawer in their kitchen for all the junk that doesn’t rightfully have a place, and there’s duct tape right at the front of his.

Pulling it out, I quickly remove a large piece before stopping to listen for Jeff moving around. Once I know he hasn’t heard me ripping the tape, I quietly close the drawer. Grabbing the piece of tape off the counter and the cleaver, I slowly make my way through his house.

Checking every step with my toes before I take it to avoid floors squeaking, I eventually get to his room. The door is wide open, and he’s snoring so loudly I can understand why nothing I did woke him up.

A light sleeper, he is not.

Moving quickly and silently, I tower over his sleeping body as he continues to snore. He’s on his side facing away from me, so I prep the tape before lightly tapping his shoulder with the cleaver. He doesn’t even wake up, just groans and tosses around until he’s lying on his back. His neck open to me.

I could easily swing this cleaver into his neck and kill him now. I debate on how important the message is that I want to give him about messing with what’s mine, but I decide I can shorten it.

Readying my arm above my head, I take a deep breath before swinging the cleaver into his neck. I feel the skin breaking as I slice my way through his muscles and voice box, and it’s euphoric.

His eyes snap open wide as the blood gurgles, spraying from his neck and covering my upper body. I made sure to stand tight against the bed to keep the blood off my bottom half. I don’t want to accidentally trail it through the house on my way out.

Watching as his hands fly to his neck, I smile at him as he fights a losing battle. As the life quickly drains from his eyes, I lean down to whisper in his ear.

“No means no. You should have done better,” I hiss before standing. Watching on for a couple more moments as his body convulses before everything just stops.

The only movement left is the blood still draining as his heart finishes pumping it through his arteries. I watch as it exits through the gaping hole in his neck, satisfied with the job I’ve done.

Tossing the knife onto his bed, I remove my jacket and sweater, now drenched in his blood, before removing the t-shirt underneath and using it to wipe my face and arms clean of any trace.

Once I’m satisfied that I’m not going to track blood everywhere, I move to his bathroom to rinse the blood off my gloves before wiping down the sink with cleaner and grabbing the towel off the handle to dry them.

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