Deeper

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Deeper Page 8

by Jennifer Michael

The lock on Cortland’s back door easily jimmies open under my hands, and I creep through his home.

  I have been in a foul mood all day, my thoughts constantly turning back to just how badly I failed in that room with Rylan. My intent was to break her, but she barely even bent under my hands.

  I stand over his sleeping form, and my mind races back and forth from red to pink—the blood of Cortland’s I’ll spill tonight and the beautiful pink color of Rylan’s sweet cunt. His death and my new greatest obsession.

  I stick the needle into his arm and push the plunger before he can even react.

  “What the fuck? Who are you?” he tries to say, but his words are slow, garbled.

  Five.

  He fumbles from his bed, trying to stand on weakening legs.

  Four.

  “Are you just—”

  Three.

  He sways, and his eyes begin to droop as his lips open and close.

  Two.

  I smile.

  One.

  He falls to the floor.

  Good night, Cortland. We’ll meet again under much better circumstances. Better for me, not for you.

  I tape up his hands, feet, and mouth and then scoop him up. He dangles in my grasp, and I bark out a soft laugh as his head slams into the doorframe on the way out. Once we’re in the car, I crank up the radio and pull calmly away.

  Red.

  Pink.

  Rylan is my worst nightmare, wrapped in the presentation of my greatest dream. I’ll have some fun with her while I finish this job, and then I’ll move onto the next town. I drum my thumbs in tune to the music and admit—if only to myself—that I may move on, but there will never be another like her. I don’t believe anything could ever compare to the things I experienced with her the other night. The way her body reacted to each aggressive touch. The way she silently and not so silently begged for me. The way she loved every bit of it as much as I did.

  I’ll be back for more from her, as much as I can get while I’m here, and thoughts of the things we’ll do together will live forever in my mind.

  She consumes my thoughts as I drive out of Maplefield and into the countryside. Two miles later, I take a sharp right down an overgrown dirt road that is probably only used by county workers maintaining the power lines that cut through the woods.

  Cortland starts to stir, and I give him a wry smile when his eyes lazily open, still heavy from the drugs I pumped into his veins. He goes still for just a beat, assessing the situation, and I can almost count down the seconds before he loses his shit.

  He struggles in his restraints, and I tsk at him.

  “No use, buddy. You’re fucked.”

  I hum along to the song on the radio, and his head thrashes against the seat.

  “Who did you piss off? I’m here, so you must have upset someone.”

  The tape over his mouth muffles his answer.

  “Doesn’t really matter anyway. It’s my job either way.”

  The trees get thicker, and the path gets smaller. When I can’t drive any farther, I throw the truck in park and cut the engine before turning to Cortland.

  “Ready?” I am. I am so fucking ready.

  I exit my truck and head over to the passenger side. The fear coming off him fuels me. I get excited as he fights in the seat and screams against the tape over his mouth. His eyes track my every move, and all the blood running through my veins travels to my cock. I pull the door open, delighted to see tears falling from Cortland’s eyes. I guess the fucking pussy won’t be going out like a man tonight. He’ll end his life as a little bitch.

  I throw him over my shoulder and head out deeper into the woods.

  The dead silence is the perfect acoustic for his muffled moans and screams. Out here, I’m free to fly—just like Rylan did last night under my touch.

  Red.

  Pink.

  My brain jumps from moment to moment.

  My boots sink into the mud as I walk with Cortland over my shoulder. He squirms the entire way, like an ant I’m going to stomp on. He’s only fueling my anticipation, making the process even more desirable.

  Keep it up.

  “Have you ever had mind-blowing sex, Cortland?” I adjust my hold on him before I continue my rambling, “I thought I had, but it wasn’t until last night that I learned I had no idea what mind-blowing was. This girl, man, she’s fucking incredible. She fucks like the devil but tastes like heaven. You ever find something like that?”

  I don’t expect him to answer as I keep walking. After another ten minutes, I drop Cortland, and he hits the grassy surface like lead weights. I circle him while he bucks against his bindings.

  Pussy like that is too hard to give up. Eventually, I’ll have to move on, but I think that girl branded my cock for life. Just like bloodshed will always be a part of me.

  “Unfortunately for you, you’ve met me on a strange day. A good day for me but a bad one for you.”

  His face is beet red from all his futile attempts at escape. He isn’t going anywhere.

  “Normally, I’d just kill you and get it over with, but tonight, I have a different plan. You see, I have some pent-up hostility I need to work off. Torturing you is exactly what I need after spending a few hours fucking in a crazy-as-fuck, public sex room.”

  I take off the bag strapped to my back and dump its contents right next to him. Rylan has a bag filled with toys for the club, and I have my own for torture of a very different kind. When Cortland sees all the fun I’ve brought for us, he begins to try to inch away like an earthworm. I laugh at him, which makes him wiggle harder.

  “Do you really think that will work?” Dragging him by the feet, I pull him back to me and then start to undo the tape from his wrists.

  In an ideal situation, I’d love for him to fight against me and lose, but I can’t risk the tiny chance of this prick actually getting away. I free his hands but leave the tape on his mouth and ankles—for now. The second the tape is loose, Cortland swings and tries to scratch my forearms.

  Fucking pussy.

  “You won’t win. I will break you.”

  Red.

  Pink.

  I can’t break Rylan, but I can break this asshole.

  Cortland reaches for the tape around his ankles, and with one swift movement, my gun is drawn and aimed at the fucker. He freezes and starts to hyperventilate behind the tape over his mouth. Snot rushes from his nose and drips down his chin. If he were smart, he wouldn’t be scared. Killing him with a gun doesn’t make it any fun for me.

  “You will not touch that tape. We’re playing this game by my rules. Do you hear me?”

  He continues his sniveling.

  “Rule number one: You will acknowledge me when I ask you a question or give you a demand. While your mouth is taped, you will nod to indicate you understand me.”

  Cortland doesn’t move or indicate understanding, and anger swarms inside me.

  “I’m fucking waiting. I won’t ask again.”

  The click of the safety on the gun is deafening through the silent night.

  His head jerks up and down, and his hands drop to the dirt.

  “Rule number two: You will obey immediately when I demand something. I don’t want to ask things twice. Are we clear?”

  Cortland nods, and my amusement level rises. I like my new toy.

  “I’m going to remove the tape from over your mouth, and you aren’t going to make a sound. Don’t test me. Understood?”

  He nods, and I rip the tape away from his mouth, taking some skin and stubble with me. An angry red mark appears around his mouth.

  “I have money, man. I’ll give you as much as you want. Just let me go.”

  I don’t respond. He can’t buy me.

  “Tell me, Cortland, what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

  “Wha-wha-what are you talking about?”

  I knock him upside the head with my gun.

  “Did I ask you to question me or to answer me?”

  “I
don’t know! I’m a good person. Just let me go, and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

  I reach for the pile of items I dumped from the bag and grab the collar I brought. He struggles while I fasten it around his neck, but I easily overpower him.

  Once it’s secure, I stand and hit the button on the remote again and again while I speak, “I want you to answer my question. You must have done something to land in this position. I want to know what it is.”

  He jolts the first time the shock collar zaps him and develops a tic by the fifth zap. I smile through his helplessness.

  “Fuck, all right. I’ve lied, cheated, stolen, walked all over people. But, worst of all, I’ve abused women. I came from privilege, man. I was taught from a young age that what I want is mine.”

  I might have found my answer. A scorned woman can do horrific things.

  “What do you mean, you’ve abused women?”

  “I just haven’t treated them so well, okay?”

  I press the zap button again, and Cortland flops around in the dirt.

  “I need you to be more specific. Like you hit them? What?”

  I let go of the button, and he takes a moment to catch his breath.

  “Something like that. It’s happened a couple times. Sometimes, they like it, though.”

  I undo the tape from his ankles. “Stand.”

  He hesitates, and I shock him.

  Once he’s upright, I give my next command, “Hit me.”

  But he doesn’t make a move.

  “You believe the women you’ve hit fucking like it. Hit me and make me fucking like it, you little bitch.”

  I shock him until he’s clawing at the collar. Once I stop, he swings on me but misses by a mile. He’s too disoriented.

  “You can do better than that.”

  He swings again and makes contact with my cheek. He hits me again and then again. I stand with my hands at my sides, letting him punch me. Then, he takes off into the woods, like a fucking coward. I just laugh at his idiocy.

  Cortland runs from the monster.

  Red.

  But Rylan welcomed the monster.

  Pink.

  I take off after my prey.

  His heavy breathing gets louder as I get closer. There is fear in every one of his gasps as he tries to force air into his lungs. He looks over his shoulder and falters.

  I tackle him, flip him onto his back, and laugh. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like our little game? That’s okay; it’ll be over soon.”

  I stand and drag him by the ankles back to the clearing. Once there, I straddle his hips.

  “Are yo-you you going to rape me?”

  “What about this torture scenario leads you to believe I want my dick anywhere near you?”

  “You’re on top of me, and-and-and your dick…it’s hard.”

  Red.

  Pink.

  “My hard cock isn’t for you. It’s for a girl that can’t be broken, but you can. Can’t you?”

  “I don’t understand what that means.”

  I reach for the large blade in the pile of toys I brought and then hold the sharp end against his throat. “Beg me. Beg for your pathetic life.”

  “Please, please don’t do this. Please—”

  His words turn to gargled gasps, and his blood splashes my face. The gash I just slit in his throat hangs open.

  I stand to admire my kill. Cortland’s shocked, lifeless eyes stare back at me as Rylan’s moans fill my mind. I step back and release my dick from my pants. I look up at the sky and think about the girl who made this so much worse for Cortland…so much better for me. I wouldn’t have played with my prey tonight if it weren’t for her. My grunts break the silence as I pump my cock in my hand.

  There is a noise off to the side, but I’m so lost in my need for Rylan that I can’t even bring myself to care about a stray animal coming to sniff around the scent of blood. My dirty thoughts and raging cock take over. I pump harder and faster until I’m coming into my own hand. I scream Rylan’s name into the dark night.

  Red. Pink. The two mix together for an incredible release.

  I tuck myself back into my jeans and head back over to the body. I pick the knife back up, so I can carve his number into his chest. I smile as I do so and contemplate what it might mean that I felt Rylan’s energy with me tonight. It raged through my every action. She doesn’t know the monster that she lay with or that she helped fuel my deadly actions tonight.

  Rylan

  The news channels are frantic today. There was another murder. A body was found this morning, hanging from Harkness Tower at Yale. They shut the whole campus down. Scared students and teachers have been giving their sad testimonials to the news reporters all day. The media coverage plays in the background, keeping me company, while I talk to my friend. It’s time that she gets an apology from me.

  Aria,

  I hate that the only way I can talk to you is through these letters and that I can’t give my apologies to your face. I hope what I’ve done doesn’t forever destroy how you look at me. My heart was in the right place.

  Please know, I’m trying to move on without making you hate me more, but it’s hard. I hope that, one day, you can understand all I’ve done. Maybe I don’t even need you to understand it but accept it. Accept that I am who I am, and I deal with situations in my own way.

  You’ve always been the light to my dark. Without you, the dark swallows me whole. Someday, maybe I’ll find light again to even out the tainted, ugly parts of me.

  I’m sorry for everything. I hope for your forgiveness every day.

  I miss you. I love you almost as much as ice cream.

  Rylan

  I lie back on the couch and think of happier times with my friend. The first weekend after Aria got her driver’s license, we drove to Disney World. She told her parents she was staying at my place, and we took off for a couple of days. Aria has always been a princess, so the Mouse’s House was her perfect happy place. We cheered for the parade and snuck in vodka, sipping it in the restroom. We went on rides—the happy, cheerful ones for her and the fast roller coasters for me. We stayed up late and woke up early to enjoy every second of our spontaneous adventure. I haven’t thought about that weekend in a long time, and when sadness twists deep, I remember why.

  Sighing, I turn my attention back to the television. The talking heads are still discussing theories on the lack of suspects and their motives. The sleepy little towns around New Haven are in a tizzy, worried that this second body means there is an actual threat to their safety. There is talk about locking doors, not being out after dark, and being aware of who’s around you.

  True darkness isn’t usually so easy to see.

  Callen

  I know better than to be here, but I couldn’t resist being in the middle of the circus act I orchestrated.

  “It’s horrible, isn’t it? What’s wrong with people?” The elderly lady looks to me to voice her concern with society.

  “Just awful. The person responsible must be a psychopath.” I move from the woman after my response.

  Am I?

  I didn’t used to think I was a psychopath, just heartless. I’m not so sure anymore.

  They already took the body, my masterly crafted work of art, away in a coroner’s van. Even though the Yale campus is supposed to be blocked off, it’s full of activity, which means my art is still being whispered about.

  Reporters flock around Harkness Tower.

  Curious gawkers cling to one another.

  The people of this town are worried about the safety of their kids. The alarm is unjust because I have no intention to kill anyone who is not on my list. They have nothing to fear unless their kids are the last three names I need to cross off. I wander through the masses and listen to the gossip. No one is the wiser that the man responsible for this crime walks among them. It gives me a sick satisfaction.

  “Callen?”

  I turn and find Rylan’s friend standing behind me with a
camera hooked around her neck. “Yeah, hey.” I’m caught off guard by seeing someone who knows me.

  She gives me a wide smile, displaying a straight row of brilliantly white teeth. She’s definitely cute but very odd.

  “I’m Rylan’s friend, Tatum.”

  I aimlessly nod at her, looking for an out. I shouldn’t be seen here. “Yeah, I remember you.” I’m inching away as I say the words, but Tatum just beams at me.

  “What are you doing here? Do you go to school here?”

  “Yale? No, I definitely don’t go to school here.”

  Tatum narrows her eyes at me but doesn’t ask for clarification on what I am doing here.

  “Okay, well, I’m here, taking photos for one of the papers I do freelance for.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay? This whole thing is kind of crazy, right? Two recent murders here in town. People are saying there is a connection. The bodies both have numbers carved into their chests. Our small town could have a serial killer on the loose.”

  Not a serial killer, just a hit man working his way through his list.

  “Yeah. Listen, Tatum, I’m really not interested in striking up a conversation.”

  “Oh, okay. Well then, I’ll see you around, I guess.”

  I take off, away from the crowds of people and away from Rylan’s friend. I didn’t handle that very well, but I’m not used to having people know me by name in the towns I’m working in. Tatum probably thinks I’m completely incapable of normal conversation. Hopefully, that’s the only suspicion that awkward conversation brought about.

  I hop into my truck and head back to my place.

  Number Four is taken care of. I need to set my focus on Three and getting the job done.

  Citizens, rest easy. This will all be over soon.

  Rylan

  “Something isn’t right, Rylan.” Tatum tries to convince me.

  “He’s probably hiding something. Everybody is.” I try not to put much stock in her worries.

  “That doesn’t bother you? It doesn’t bother you that you don’t know more about him? I get a weird vibe from him. It’s sketchy.”

  “I know enough. I know what I need to. Tatum, you’re being a little crazy.”

 

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