Blood Thrill

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Blood Thrill Page 2

by David Swinden


  I needed something though, anything that would remind me of my first successful kill. Most of all, like any hunter, blood could and would… be the only answer. There was no way to get blood from the victim, with his body being all burnt and charred. But he did have family members; they had been on TV, talking about their pain and loss. He had a wife and two daughters - they would just have to do. I did not want to go kill again, as it would attract way too much attention, and I did not have the nerve for it just now. The case had been a sensational one and there was just too much attention attached to it. Something had to be done, this feeling and thirst for First Blood was not going to go away on its own.

  It was being reported on TV, that the charred remains of the victim were finally going to be laid to rest the next day. There was a lot of attention from the media and other quarters as well - this just might be my only chance to score. I needed to be at that funeral tomorrow. Brian Miller would be there, but I was not to be stopped. It had to happen… it just had to.

  His burnt remains had been put into a coffin, and a large number of mourners had gathered around it. His wife and both his daughters were prominently visible, standing very close beside the coffin. I just needed blood, even a drop would do. The detective and the cops were nearby, and there seemed nothing I would be able to do to collect my trophy blood. I couldn't just walk-up and stab another victim. No, a plan was needed, and quick.

  Fortunately for me, I spotted a rock nearby and in true soccer fashion, placing the front part of my shoe under it, and with my forefoot, flicked it into the air. I watched as it landed on top of one of the nearby cars, the vehicle’s security alarm went into overdrive, joined in choral harmony by a few other vehicles nearby. Fear and pandemonium immediately feel on the faces of all the attendees. The recent events had not gone done down well with people, and there was still a nervous tension hanging in the air. The funeral guests were clearly jumpy and started scrambling toward their cars. I watched and waited, as the mother and her daughters came running toward their car. I offered my leg ever so slightly, and sent the youngest one sprawling face-first onto the hood of the car. I was quick to respond and picked her up, offering her a handkerchief to stymie the blood freely pouring from her cut lips. Gently placing the cloth on her mouth; allowed the blood to course onto in. Her mother had come back to her in a hurry wondering what had gone wrong. Seeing her daughter’s face a bloody mess she began to scream. Brian Miller had also arrived, picking up the girl and carrying her away to the car. In the melee however, I was totally ignored and could now go back home with my blood soaked handkerchief.

  Now it was over… well and truly over.

  On reaching home, I located the rifle and wiped the blood soaked cloth all over the barrel. This was my First Kill and First Blood, and finally it was all over. Over for now, as I sat back to ponder the lessons learnt. The first thing that began to be glaring obvious was the fact that, the killing of an innocent person was going to attract way too much attention. It was much safer for me to concentrate my efforts on thugs and criminals, and maybe other serial killers. This way no one would give a fuck about these villains, and the murder of such an individual would not be taken all too seriously. Criminals also had families, but the negative karma they showered on everyone, was something that their associated people would love to be rid of. I didn’t really care if someone was innocent or not. When the urge was felt, nothing was going to hinder my path, and I could always figure out a way around it.

  4. The Girlfriend

  I had just turned sweet sixteen and had never been kissed by a girl, not that it had become a longing, but the experience was definitely sought-after by me. We had Sharon who lived two farms away; she was the same age as me and would visit us frequently. Sharon showed up today, and my parents were still not back. She had come in her father’s truck, wearing really tight shorts and a loose cotton top. We had two bulldogs, a male and a female and she ran around playing with them, I could see her bra as she bent down to pat and pet the canines. After she was done with her antics, we went inside to rest and maybe watch a little TV. There was nothing on that caught our fancy and she suggested that we watch some porn. I was taken aback by her temerity and could only stare back at her dumbfounded.

  ‘What’s up Lemmie, are you shy?’ She said in a very giggly voice.

  [Lemmie was short for Lemuel, a biblical name meaning ‘Dedicated to God.’ King Lemuel remains a mystery even today among bible scholars. My parents must have had some weird notion while coming up with a name for their child.]

  ‘No, I just never thought girls watched porn.’

  ‘Well hurry up then, what’s your fav storyline. Tell me Lemmie, you like girl-on-girl, tell me what do you jerk off to?’

  ‘Hmm, I don’t know, maybe something hardcore is more my style.’

  ‘Why, I assumed all you guys like to watch girls kissing!’

  ‘Yeah I do, but this is the first time, a girl has ever asked me that.’

  She began to laugh, sensing my discomfort, standing up in front of me, she slowly beginning to undress, off came her shirt, shorts, bra, and panties. She was now standing in front of me with a naked smile.

  ‘Come on, I showed you mine, now show me yours.’

  I was struggling, pathetically struggling. A tent had begun to form in the front of my pants and I was finding it difficult to breath. How was a young man to behave at the sight of a naked woman in front of him? I always thought she was beautiful, but this was way beyond anything I could have ever imagined. Her naked beauty kept driving my senses all cockamamie. Never had I ever imagined that the naked form could be so beautiful; her taut breasts, the shape of her ass, and the curvy shape of her legs. What was this beauty doing in front of me? It was then that I thought to myself. ‘Well, what is the point of all this beauty if there was no one there to make use of it?’ I had been chosen for this particular event and I was shaking, needing to get myself together and show her that I truly was a man.

  Getting up all of a sudden, I was now pulling her close. My hardness was pressing into her stomach, as I let my tongue glide into her mouth. The softness and dampness was now provided me with another problem. It felt so good and intoxicating, that I began shaking at the knees. She was so soft and supple, that I began to feel heady. ‘Could this really be happening?’

  Sharon was all giggly and kissing me as deeply as possible. When we finally pulled away, her smiling face had now changed. Her eyes had begun to burn with a deep hunger; this was a seriousness I had never seen before. With those big eyes, she took my hand in hers and led me to the bedroom. Pushing me down, she landed right on top of me, as she continued to suck on my mouth. Sliding down she undid my pants and took my full in the mouth. She began to suck on it, slow at first and then with deeper dives and harder suction. I burst in her mouth - there was nothing I could do, not being able to take it anymore and just like that it was over; Sharon dressed and left promising to come back at another time to continue where we’d left off.

  The next day she showed up again in the evening, telling me that since we had gone so far, this would now mean that we were a couple. I readily agreed, secretly hoping that she would initiate sex again. I was hooked, completely. There was no denying her and I couldn't wait for our next time.

  It happened a few days later on a Saturday evening, just before my parents returned. She had initiated sex and I had lain her down on the bed and fucked her. This time I was confident and proved to myself, that I was indeed a man after all, capable of satisfying any woman. I had just cum in her, when we heard my parents’ car pulling up. We jumped up, got dressed and I went to open the door for them.

  We had consummated our affair and had well and truly become boyfriend and girlfriend. The lovemaking had been heavenly and there was now something to look forward to.

  On another evening, as the sun began to set, we held hands and went for a walk around the farm. She had a very interesting question for me.

  ‘Baby, would you
ever cheat on me?

  I had never really thought about it and simply said. ‘No… I think not.’ She was not done and continued.

  ‘Well what would you do if I ever cheated on you?’

  ‘My sweet darling, I will kill you.’

  ‘Oh… really?’ She began to laugh, thinking I must not be capable of such an act, laughing it off, as though I was just some silly teenager.

  Well, I really did not have the appearance of a killer, although I did have a tough and strong body, with all the farm work and all. I used to also secretly practice fighting, eventually coming up with my own style of martial arts. I was already strong enough to put up a very tough fight. As yet though, I had not been provided with an opportunity to prove myself. She was looking at me strange now, maybe wanting to test my strength. Did I really have a tough side that she had not seen up until now? I could literally read her thoughts; something was being planned in her head. Her eyes had lit up like it usually would when she had hatched a plan. I was pretty sure that this time it had something to do directly with me – had she decided to test my strength and resolve?

  My assumptions were not to be proved wrong as the following week; Sharon had come up with a plan. There was this nightclub in town that we could enter illegally, if enough money was slipped into the hands of the bouncer at the door. We were not yet old enough to go out partying and drinking like this.

  She held my hand and wouldn't let go until I had joined her on the dance floor. She was wild and a couple of perverts already had their eyes set on her. She was all flirty as she danced and it seemed to me, that she was purposefully trying to entertain the entire crowd. Her clothes were slutty and well… I played along. I know she wanted to get me into a fight, typical female, wanting males to fight over her. At any other time I wouldn't have minded as much, but I had just come off a huge ordeal and didn't really want to attract any more unwanted attention to myself. This was something I shunned and actually hated, preferring to be silent and quiet as I went about my day; believing that attention was the worst enemy of a serial killer.

  She was now dancing and gyrating all over the floor, with no intention of relenting. I was starting to get pissed off, as other guys started to move in. Maybe my boyish looks were deceiving them into thinking I was a pushover. Actually when in the game I didn’t mind people stepping all over me. My focus was on something else and nothing was going to break my attention and concentration. ‘Listen bitch.’ I shouted into her ear over the loud music. ‘I’m leaving.’ ‘No you’re not,’ she hissed back. ‘You can’t leave me here all alone.’ With that she wrapped her arms around me and began to French-kiss me. Placing my hands under her ass, I completely swept her off her feet and began walking with her to the door. This big dude, quickly stepped behind me and placing his hand on my shoulder - was now trying to stop me from leaving the club. I pretended to lose my balance and turning around, kind of let her fall onto him. Overjoyed he held onto her, as she began to scream. ‘Don’t touch me.’ That was all I needed. Stepping in close I gave him a powerful headbutt, and watched him fall to the floor, knocked out cold. I picked her up and we headed for the door. ‘Thank you Lemmie.’ she began to scream into my ear. ‘Sharon, you do this to one more time – and guess who’s going to get their lights knocked out the next time?’

  She now really knew I did have another deeper darker side. I did it for the simple fact that she was my first fuck. I drew my first Fuck Blood from her - this was the only thing that excited me. As I was fucking her for the first time and felt that warm liquid all over my dick, it excited me to no end. Blood always made me stop and think, it was like a liquid elixir to me - it turned me all spiritual and philosophical. It was the only crimson color that attracted me. I could not as yet explain all these feelings; during the early years, but these were the kinds of thoughts that shaped my thinking. Blood always made me focus; it kind of made me fall in love with it. People like me have been labeled Sociopaths - I kind of liked it. Sounds so much like a sociable person, a society related thing, you know the prefix Socio. In reality though, I am very much in touch with life. Could feel and read it much more than other normal people would. My perspectives and perceptions were always totally different… very different, and very… very… human.

  This phase of life represented my rite of passage from childhood innocence to adulthood. It was a baptism by fire for me and the transition was not lost on my subconscious. My first blood, first fuck, and first real fight paved the way for my initiation rites into the big bad world. This transference ritual was now over and the change had begun flowing deep within my veins. My boyhood innocuousness had gone and in its place now stood manhood without any fear; life was no more sweet, innocent and virgin, blood had been spilled and the boy had become a man.

  5. Second

  A further two years had now passed since the previous incidents, having now attained the grand old age of eighteen; I was now free by law to do whatever I wanted to, within the perimeters of the constitution. There was a sense of achievement that had started to reside within me. My hunger for blood however had started to grow. Something had been gripping the inner workings of my soul. It had been guiding me and showing me how to live - how to adapt and live like any other normal person would. It was now showing me something totally different - sitting in front of the TV and surfing news channels; this is what I came across.

  There was a huge city close to where we lived. And just like any other normal city system, there were a lot of high-rises’ with people living in close proximity to each other. Big cities were all the same – houses close to the other, everyone scrambling for space. People were like rats, always liking to nest close to each other. It was no surprise to me then, that crime was an everyday event. Imagine people living in close propinquity; things were bound to happen.

  The latest crime being reported however caught my attention. A serial killer had appeared on the horizon, spreading terror and dread. His was a very sick operation. He was hunting poor prostitutes, slitting their throats and then gutting them. I could not believe the atrocities being committed against poor weak humans. What kind of a sick bastard would kill poor hookers? Didn’t they also have families and children that needed food? But who was I to take the moral high ground? The whole situation now presented me with an opportunity that I couldn't afford to miss.

  Again that old anger began to rise within me. I needed to find and crucify this motherfucker. Oh God, imagine the way I would play with and butcher his heart, if I could only catch him, I was almost salivating at the thought. This was the kind of person that would not have any family to come on TV and plead for his safe return. (At least, this was my thinking, because after my first kill, I had decided not to go after innocent people as it attracted way too much attention.) This was something that I could do in a shroud of secrecy, and escape without drawing any or no attention at all. He hunted the dark streets; I was king of hunting on dark nights. My training in these mountains would be unparalleled to the instincts of a city dweller, I was better, way better. My mind began to plan grand scenarios on how the final kill was going to take place. There was the need to find the perpetrator however and size up my opponent.

  And so my intense preparations had begun. A very special knife had been chosen; the sight of its sharp blade would put even the bravest person on edge.

  It was on an early Monday evening, when I set out toward the city. I had no idea about the lay of the land and how hookers operated. I would need to drive around and scout out the places where they were to be found, and then come up with a strategy. I spent many hours driving about, especially the three localities from where the working women had been taken. It was a while before I actually stopped and was approached by a young lady.

  ‘Need some company.’ She asked. It took me a few seconds before I was able to reply. ‘Yeah… and how much is that going to cost me?’ ‘A hundred for an hour,’ she replied. ‘Hey that’s way too much – think of another number.’ ‘Listen the
night is still young and I’m not going to go down below 75, Okay’ ‘So this is for a blowjob and a fuck right?’ ‘Yes, both.’ ‘Okay fine, I need to think about it, will drive around for a bit longer and if I see you again, let’s go.’ ‘Sure, don’t take too long, I might not be available for much longer you know… a lot of horny fuckers around tonight. Come on back fast, trust me, you’ll enjoy it when you get to fuck me.’

  Thanking her for her kind gesture, I continued to drive around. This place was like an industrial area, and you could see a lot of abandoned factories, looking for street cameras around here, revealed none. There were just women, who were walking around, and every now and then a car would pull-up beside them and negotiations were taking place. The area was dark and shady, as was to be expected. How difficult was it to pick up a working girl here? Hardly! For a hundred bucks you could have anything you wanted from any one of them.

 

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