Page 35
Story: Beneath Her Skin
4
I didn’t find out until the next day the extent of Randy’s actions. From the brief interaction I’d had with him, I’d already figured he had been abusing his wife, but I didn’t know all the details, nor did I know that he actually had plans to kill her the night I had intervened. It felt good, in a sense, that I was the sole reason she was still alive. She had confessed everything to the police, of course, now that she could safely tell them everything. The only detail she left out was me because apparently, she hadn’t gotten a good look at me before she had passed out, and I supposed that was a blessing in disguise. And the police were too preoccupied in the case of a would-be murderer that they didn’t do as thorough a check as they should have.
I managed to slip away completely scot-free, but not before a string of anxiety flare-ups gave me pause. Of the police figuring it out and knocking on my door, of them somehow finding me while in class, or of them questioning Barron in an effort to pull an incriminating answer out of him regarding me. None of that happened, but I had to be more careful. I hadn’t been wearing gloves like I usually do, and if they had done a fingerprint check, I would’ve been done for. I had been extremely lucky, and I knew my slip-ups couldn’t happen again. I had to be more careful.
It was definitely a miracle. And way, way too close. That was also why I always made sure to wear my slasher outfit whenever I went hunting so I was protected to the best of my ability. Unfortunately, I hadn’t had a lot of time to prepare, so I’d gone with what I could, but if things hadn’t worked out the way they had, I could have been sitting in a cold, hard prison cell awaiting trial right now. And because I was technically a serial killer, I knew I was never getting out and would either be looking at a life sentence or the death penalty.
The next night had to be different. My slasher outfit was clean and ready for another patrol, and I had finished with classes for the evening. Barron and I had just finished nuking our respective TV dinners in the microwave and sat at the table together, chairs turned towards the news as we prepared to eat.
Not surprisingly, they were talking about me. The Incel Annihilator, at least according to the various news outlets and social media platforms. It was a name that filled me with glee because it meant that I was as much a hot topic around the city as the Hooded Killer was, the only one who seemed to be able to match his energy, since my victims were of the opposite demographic. They were interviewing the woman from last night, who apparently had been discharged from the hospital this morning. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was glad her husband was dead. I could only imagine how long her husband had been abusing her, and if it wasn’t for the fact she had been completely out of it when police had arrived, I wouldn’t have been surprised if they thought she had killed him.
Then again, maybe not, considering my kills were very, very recognizable. And very, very over-the-top.
Of course, throughout the entire story, they kept referring to me as a he , because God forbid a woman has the stomach and willpower for such heinous violence. The world still had a really bad habit of underestimating women. It made me angry, but at the same time, it also made me want to laugh at their ignorance.
Beside me, Barron just shook his head as he bit off a piece of his fried chicken. “Can you believe this? Two serial killers, both who target completely opposite demographics. It’s unreal.”
I let out a humorless chuckle and stabbed a piece of my country-fried steak with my fork. “It’s almost comical. What if they meet at some point?” Which they will. Very, very soon.
Barron scoffed. “This is serious , Selina! This isn’t a joke! This means no one is safe!”
I glanced up from my meal, my gaze meeting my cousin’s. His eyes were wide, his face white as a sheet. And it took every ounce of me not to burst out laughing because in that moment, I realized just how frightened Barron was. Barron, who just a couple nights ago had a hard time understanding why I was fearful about the Hooded Killer.
Oh, how the tables have turned. “I can’t believe this. Are you scared , Barron?”
My cousin’s shoulders dropped, and his gaze fell to his meal. “I mean, I am a man, so…”
I sucked in a deep breath. Guess it’s my turn to try to be comforting. “The famed Incel Annihilator only goes after those who hurt women. So as long as you don’t hurt a woman, you’re safe.”
Barron stiffed. Okay, not the reaction I was expecting.
I sucked in a deep breath. “You haven’t hurt a woman, have you, Barron?” I asked carefully, scooting closer so I could hear his answer.
Barron didn’t answer at first, lifting his head to meet my gaze. “No,” he said after a few seconds have passed. “No, I haven’t.”
At his words, I deflated as relief flowed through my veins. “Then you should be okay,” I said in a monotone. But internally, I was relieved. I hadn’t realized how much I needed him to say those words until after he said them because I didn’t know what I would do if I found out my own cousin was one of the men I swore to exterminate.
Barron blinked as a stray tear fell down his cheek, and he nodded. Then, we returned to our meals and didn’t speak for the rest of the evening.
I was supposed to patrol for the Hooded Killer again tonight, but as luck would have it, that didn’t work out. It started out normal, like the previous night, and I even started stalking the figure again like I did before. However, something else diverted my attention, much like the previous night, and I had to switch targets. Because tonight, there were two women in peril, two stalkers, one of which was the Hooded Killer, and the other one a drunk rando on the street who didn’t seem to take kindly to the word no . And the drunk was dangerous, with a small switchblade in his hand that he carried as he followed the woman an unsafe distance away, waiting for the prime opportunity to strike.
Tonight, my prime weapon of choice was a battery-powered circular saw. Though it was small, lightweight, and easy to maneuver, I didn’t choose it for those reasons specifically. I had been curious about something for a long time, and now was the time for me to satiate that curiosity. My identity was fully concealed under my signature slasher outfit, camouflaged perfectly in the shadows of the nearby buildings. And due to the nature of my new prey, I found I didn’t have to be as careful when sneaking around. I could be as close as I wanted, and he still wouldn’t realize someone was following him.
But the woman did. And when her eyes went wide, I put a single finger to where my lips would be underneath the mask. Then, I raised the saw and smacked the dude over the head with it, watching as he fell to the ground in an unconscious heap.
The woman gasped. “Wh-who?—”
“Get out of here!” I hissed, waving my arms about.
She just blinked, confused. “You’re…a woman!” She staggered back a couple steps. “Holy shit. You’re the man-killer, and you’re?—”
“And you need to get out of here because this man was going to kill you, and I just put a stop to it,” I spat. “So, go! Because I guarantee you do not want to see what comes next!”
Reluctantly, the woman nodded. Then, she turned on her heels and sprinted out of the area as if she had just seen a ghost. When she was out of my sight, I turned back towards the man and grinned. Time to get to work.
I didn’t bring any restraints this time, not that I needed them anyway. I dragged the man off to the side so he was less out in the open before proceeding to tear away his clothing, making sure to toss his blade as far away as I could. When he was good and naked, I turned him over onto his back so his ass was exposed, right where I wanted him.
Well, he has a nice, firm ass. I’ll give him that. Too bad I have to ruin it.
There was no water around to wake him, not that it really mattered this time anyway. He would wake with the pain. Maybe. Probably. I powered on the saw and sliced a shallow cut across his back, waiting to see if that was enough to bring him back to consciousness. When nothing happened, I did another one directly below the first and then another one until his back muscles started twitching and contorting, causing the thin beads of blood to jiggle, and his head literally slammed back as if he were trying to ward off an attacker.
My knees dug into his lower back to keep him in place. The man stiffened as he gasped for breath. “Wh-where am I?”
“Oh good, you’re awake.” I laughed. “I was beginning to think you were a goner.”
The man stiffened. “Who are you?” he slurred, his words blending from one to the next. “Why does my back hurt?”
I shook my head at his audacity. The man’s movements were still too sluggish, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake me. That was why it was never a good idea to drink if you planned to do something nefarious because you never knew when someone would try to stop you. “Your back hurts because I cut you,” I stated matter-of-factly. “As for who I am, well…that doesn’t matter.”
The man squirmed beneath me, the alcohol severely inhibiting his movements. “P-please,” he begged. “I’ll do anything you want, just please?—”
“See, begging won’t work.” I scooted lower until his ass was directly in front of my face. “Nice ass, by the way. Do you work out, by any chance?”
By that point, the man was literally clawing at the ground in a desperate attempt to get away, fingers caked with blood as each nail broke on the surface of the concrete. “I…I don’t…what?”
I didn’t say anything else, just revved up my saw and literally started slicing from the butt crack into the lower back. The first of the blood started spraying my mask as his screams deafened my ears, but still, I couldn’t stop as I continued to saw him in half. Intestines, muscles, and other entrails started spilling out of the crevice the deeper I went, and before I knew it, the dude went silent, like they always do before I finish a kill. I removed the saw to leave his upper chest intact and flipped him over, instantly, meeting the man’s glassy-eyed stare for the first time, his mouth forever frozen in a silent scream. He was for sure dead, despite the fact I didn’t cut all the way through.
I still had one last thing I had to do.
I revved up the saw one last time and cut his crime on his bare chest so there was no doubt what he had done: STALKER. That way, when the police found him, they would know, and they would also figure out who had brought him to justice.
The famed Incel Annihilator.
Table of Contents
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- Page 9
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- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35 (Reading here)
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- Page 75