Page 19

Cole: July 2022

I sat back from my computer after reading most of the article. The rest from what I scanned over quickly went into significant detail of the previous deaths linked to the Ripper. There was also mention of a couple of missing persons, bodies that vanished never to be seen again after I had played with them. Those were my crimes but even my pride was not enough to make me confess to such a thing. They could be wrong all they wanted.

This serial killer was pissing me off! The crime and house fire had worried me, it was literally in the street behind Sundrop’s home. That was far too close. I had phased my gorgeous angel out of my life after it became too difficult to be with her. She was whittling down my defences and breaking through all the walls I had carefully built.

Just because we couldn’t have our happily ever after together did not mean I felt any less for her. I was wildly possessive and territorial of her. She was mine after all.

The thought of her being alone in that house and so close to a literal psychopath was sending me spiralling. Someone twisted who had brutally beaten two men to death and then what? Fucked the corpses? Jesus motherfucking Christ! The fear I felt of her being caught by this murderer; what they could potentially do to her. Fuck, I had wanted to kill her. Of course she would easily be a target for another monster. It made me want to protect her, to pick her up, pack up her life and move her in with me.

The irony was not lost on me.

But she would be safe with me, in fact, I’d argue I was the safest person in her life and for her to be around. I sat back in my seat, spread my legs and had to stop myself from thinking about her being underneath my desk with her hands on my thighs. Palms flat just above my knees as she looked up at me in hope of being allowed to take my cock. Oh, baby yes, I wanted her too.

I almost had so many times these past months.

Easily the happiest months of my life.

Flowers, poems (even though I fucking suck at writing them), handwritten love letters spilling all my secrets about the lifelong crush I have on her, and all my dirty fantasies over the years. I wanted to do it all with her and for her and yet, I had to stop because I didn’t want to drag her into my mess.

She doesn’t deserve that.

I shake my imagination away, no matter how fucking hot it is. I’ll use that later when I’m back home to almost break my dick in half while wanking so hard over the image of her on her knees. Those eyes, those gorgeous beautiful wide dark eyes.

I sighed, taking a much-needed deep breath and shook my head a little, clearing the image away while I thought about what I am going to do about her. If she isn’t with me, that doesn’t mean I won’t do everything in my power to protect her.

I did try and investigate this killer myself but despite how brash and overt they are with their crime scenes, there has never been any evidence. Except whatever they have now found that makes them believe necrophilia was involved.

Was there always necrophilia? I’ve seen enough dead bodies to know that I’ve never been sexually aroused by dead bodies. It honestly never crossed my mind to touch one like that or explore the body itself. Now that I am thinking about it, I can’t help but feel how fucking weird that is.

Never mind, did the Ripper always fuck the body and the police had never realised? If so, why was evidence left behind to make them believe that was the case? What had happened? Were they interrupted and if so, does that mean there might be a witness? Has something changed? Are they getting bored or are they getting more confident? There were so many variables. I would go into research mode now, I needed to know exactly what the fuck my colleague was doing and why.

In the meantime, I would also be doing whatever it took to make Sundrop safe. It might be time to install some cameras, maybe some kind of air tag? A device where I can track her movements. It’s a shame I didn’t keep her in my life the way I wanted because I’m sure if I had asked, she would have shared her location with me on her phone. She didn’t think twice about handing me over her phone to look up something or checking out a meme or showing me a photo.

It would benefit us both if I just moved her in with me, that way I would know where she was always.

After I had laughed at her wanting to be in a relationship with me, shrugged my shoulders and gave her a “I don’t know” she didn’t want anything to do with me. What was I supposed to do though?

It was too confusing and too much. I had to focus, keeping her safe was my new mission whether she wanted me in her life or not because it didn’t matter what she wanted. That’s what she was to me. If I had to park and sit outside her house (or a bit further down but still with a view of her front door), then I would. If I had to walk down the back of her house and check everything was tightly locked up and impossible to break into, then I would. I was a master at getting into houses after all, I knew exactly what to look for to exploit weakness in security so I could get in undetected.

I would use my extensive knowledge and power of stalking for her greater good.

If I was lucky, I would also get to the bottom of who the Ripper is and put an end to them too, once and for all.

First thing I planned to do was visit the crime scene after work. It was Friday and like usual, I was alone in the office. This had been deliberate on my part these last few years. Let everyone work from home or work a little longer on the other weekdays so that I could have the office all to myself on Fridays. I needed it for a few reasons, one was to just have some fucking peace and quiet from the constant noise so I could work undisturbed. It was so much more productive than when anyone else was in. I’d routinely come in early and leave late so that I could get some silence. Mainly early, I was always up at ridiculous times in the morning, usually 4–5am, so being at work was the most sensible place for me to be.

It covered up a lot of my fuck ups and inconsistencies. Plus, during actual work hours I did have a tendency for my mind to wander to Sundrop. Whether in my life actively or not, sometimes I’d spend all day texting her which physically took me away from working, so I’d have to make the time back up somehow. The work still needed to be finished. Then other times I’d be so distraught at her not being in my life, not having her constant text messages, pictures, sending me memes or links, videos… I was completely lost without her, devoid of everything except a deep sense of despair. She ruined me. So, yes, she affected me a lot more than I ever let her know.

Then there was the stalking, both of her and of my to-be victims. I followed her every move on social media. She may have blocked every account of mine she was aware of, but I had a lot more she wasn’t. I had told her I wasn’t even on certain sites and that was a lie. She had started posting a little online again and I’d be right there watching, liking, not really commenting because I think she’d know it was me. I like to think she’s a bit of an airhead, and in a way, she can be, but that mind can be so sharp, so perceptive. I think she’d recognise my writing and text style, so I don’t comment but I always like her posts. I am a fan of hers and everything she does.

It makes me feel connected to her.

I do plan on leaving early today, I would like to get to the scene of the crime and have a look at who has turned up. It is a known fact that most serial killers get off on seeing the reactions to their crimes, most will visit a crime scene and hang around. They sometimes insert themselves into investigations and get involved wherever they can. I will start my hunt there.

I go onto the local Facebook page for the town and of course it is overrun with posts about the murders. There are residents who have posted pictures and videos of the police vans, cars, the house has been sealed off to the public by forensics and they are on the scene now. I flick through a few, looking for anything that would stick out to me, but it looks already, like quite a circus down there.

It’s late afternoon, I can wrap up soon and drive over there. I can park somewhere, maybe at the restaurant at the top of the hill and make my way down. There’s a small convenience store, I bet they’ll have some gossip. I’ll go there first, as long as it’s not been sealed off, hopefully that part of the street is open. I don’t believe Sundrop will be there, she’s got her ghastly hobbies like my own interest in serial killers but being right behind her, her home being so close. I don’t think she’ll like the proximity; how close she is to the crime. I hope that she’ll stay indoors, I can’t think clearly at the idea of her putting herself out there and being at risk. She always draws eyes wherever she goes. I can only hope that this psycho doesn’t have a thing for beautiful brunettes.

The crime scene is still even all these hours later, manic with activity. It seems like everyone from the neighbourhood is out, hanging around trying to get a better look at what’s happened. The house is a disaster. It has been sealed off, as shown in the videos on Facebook. It’s badly damaged. The houses on either side were extremely lucky but I can imagine there will also be damage inside of them both. I stand, hands in my pockets feigning casual. With the crowd it is hard to get a decent look at everyone. There’s so much noise and movement.

The police have been going in and out. They are in protective gear either because of how bad the fire was, or how gruesome the murders itself were. Every so often someone will come outside a little suddenly and vomit right there in the garden. It’s pathetic. This is their job, what did they expect might happen? It makes me despise the police even more. I do really want to get inside but that’s never going to happen.

Just while I am thinking about what I am going to do, I see her. I had hoped she’d have stayed home but curiosity has obviously gotten the best of her. I spot her thick dark hair, and I would recognise the way she stands even in a crowd like this one.

There is a strange look on her face, I can’t tell if it’s fear or what? She seems haunted, still in a way I can’t quite place. I stay back, trying to keep out of her line of sight but she’s ahead of me and now facing towards the house, that’s the opposite direction from where I am standing.

I don’t want to upset her by letting her see me though. It’s too soon.

I had come here to see if I could figure out who the Ripper was, if they had come back to the scene of their crime to relive it. It’s going to be impossible to tell in this circus. I try to look around, taking in everyone's faces. I hope that at the next crime scene, I might recognise a face.

After a while, I watch Luna walk away. Not in the direction of her own house but away, as if she is heading out somewhere. Where though? The shops? The library? The bookstore? She’s the type to stay at home, I had gotten used to her day-to-day routine. Late afternoon was unusual for her to be going anywhere. This was more the time she’d be heading home, cosying up for a quiet evening. An appointment maybe?

I take this as a strike of good luck and wait to make sure she does in fact leave the overall area and is not doubling back to her home. Once I am sure of this, I start towards her house.

I am utterly disgusted when I walk down the path towards Luna’s back garden and just walk in through the gate. It’s not locked, there isn’t even a lock on the gate itself. Not even a latch. There’s nowhere to even put a padlock. I am horrified. Who the fuck is her landlord? She is a single woman living by herself in a not great part of town. It’s not the worst but it has a reputation.

The garden itself is simple, cute and exactly what I had expected from the pictures she had been sending me. I loved getting pictures of her sun kissed skin, a little sweaty from working out in the garden digging up old bushes and doing a lot of weeding. Those photos of her dirty feet after spending the afternoon in the garden had been so precious to me. I can see the effort now first hand.

We had been a positive encouragement to one another, our competitive natures needing to outdo the other. She sent me pics of her gardening and I’d have to get out my mower and tackle the grass at the back of the flat since although it was shared, having the second flat myself meant I had lost a second person to do the work sometimes. It all fell on me now. Gardening wasn’t a chore I enjoyed but Luna had helped me get through these projects one by one.

Now, standing here in the afternoon sun still strong, I could imagine her sitting or lying down on her turquoise sun lounger. She had told me how much she wanted me to rub her body down with suntan lotion. That she would be concerned about my pale skin and the sun harming me, how it was an excuse to get her hands all over me too. I thought about fucking her right here in the garden, in the sun. Pulling up her little sundress, which of course she would not be wearing panties for me. Having to press my hand down hard over her mouth to stop her from screaming as I took her soaking, plump pussy right here.

I wanted to finish inside of her, so rarely did I ever want that with anyone else. Usually happy to pull out despite my lack of being able to impregnate anyone. With Luna though, especially discovering how much she wanted that, I couldn’t help but want to shoot my load inside her repeatedly. I wanted her cunt filled up with me, I wanted her to smell of me. Shaking at the thought of seeing her pussy seep with my come, how it would trickle down her thighs afterwards.

I had to give myself a hard slap across my cheek to bring myself out of my fantasy. Otherwise, I’d end up jacking off right here onto the grass.

She’s painted half the fence, like she had started and given up. Or maybe this is a new project, and she’s only completed so much. Either is very possible with Luna. I hope she does finish painting because the colour is a deep purple. It’s nice, and it’s just so her.