Second Kill

I closed my hands around her throat and watched the light swell and swirl frantically in her eyes. She was thinking she was going to die. Fighting against me but at the same time slowly convincing herself that this was it. Her will dying out and the sheer weakness of acceptance taking over. Her muscles were tense but she wasn’t fighting me nearly as hard as I knew she could. She was just like the rest. Would cry and scream to live but in the dark recesses of their own lives they all desired to die. Her struggle grew weaker and weaker until her entire body went limp. Her arms dropped to her sides but I still held fast. I wanted to kill her, not incapacitate her. After a few moments I repositioned my hands and snapped her neck for good measure. I couldn’t take pride in what I did if I got sloppy. After she was dead I left her body lying on the kitchen floor. The old man was next. He’d probably fallen asleep waiting for her to come back up. Even so, the creak of the stairs wouldn’t disturb him much. He didn’t know she lie cold on the floor already.

I made my way up moving slowly and taking two stairs at a time. I was too anxious to take it any slower. This little couple would be the second time I’d practice my craft. The first time was so good I had to do it again. Once I reached the top of the stairs I crept past a few empty rooms to the master bedroom. Sure enough, there he lie tucked underneath blankets, watching his tv with glassed over eyes. I stepped into the doorway and his eyes locked on me. At first he said nothing but then there was a shift and he lunged off the bed to where he’d hidden a sword of his. I was faster. In one swift movement I crushed my fist against his temple knocking him sideways away from his little toy. He fell with a heavy boom against the wooden floor. My stomach turned after realizing he was completely naked. Was this melted ice cream of a man really expecting to get some? Hoping even? Ugh. He looked up at me as I stepped over to him and I could tell it was all he could do to stay conscious. With the amount of pressure I’d applied to his temple, he should have been out. He had a stronger will than the rest but it couldn't mask the truth.

He reached up toward me, almost like a plea to stop. Instead I grabbed his wrist, twisted and pulled until I felt the bones come apart. He cried out and I lost it. A shiver of excitement swelled through my whole body and my heart lurched with lust. I threw his broken wrist aside and began beating his head in with my bare fists. His skull was hard but when it began to crack and give way it was the most satisfying thing I’d felt since breaking that young girl’s ribcage. He gurgled on his own blood for a few moments before his eyes went dim and his body went limp. I continued on out of childish fun before finally stopping to leave him be. His entire head had become unrecognizable. It had been reduced to a mound of broken meaty flesh. I looked at my hands and noticed the bruising and the torn skin around my knuckles. I’d have to treat that when I left. I frowned at the thought of getting carried away. I had to be more careful. This was a long game and they were only beginning pieces. This world was finally going to be so much fun.