Page 8

Poppy

T he hotel comes into view, and I find myself starting to relax even though my mind is still racing. I politely thank the driver before striding up to my room. The first thing I do is strip myself of my clothing and head directly to the shower.

I can't believe I was weak enough to let another man touch me. I actually thought it was a good idea too, which makes it so much fucking worse. The water heats up, burning my skin as my mind tries to reconcile what I've learned this morning.

Drew was part of a secret society whose mission is to marry women in order to gain their fortunes. It doesn't seem like him at all. We were together for two years. He would have told me if he were part of some secret society. If he kept that from me, what else was he hiding?

I close my eyes, letting the water pour down my face. It feels like a warm embrace, and I find myself thinking about Corbin. How did someone of no consequence find a way to invade my thoughts so much in such a short amount of time?

I grab the small container of body wash and pour it onto my washcloth, scrubbing every bit of his scent off of me. He is nothing more than a one-night mistake. It will never happen again, and I will never see him again.

As soon as my shower is over, I dress and make myself a cup of coffee before heading to the balcony to watch the sunrise, just like I did yesterday. The colors aren't as prominent today, and I find myself thinking about how that aligns with my outlook beginning to fade. Yesterday seemed so bright but today feels dull. I watch as the sun crests over the horizon, officially beginning the day. Valentine’s Day.

The last of my coffee is cold as I drink it down and take one last glance at the city’s landscape before stepping inside. I have a few errands to run before I can come back here and wait until dark to complete my kill.

After changing into a casual pair of leggings, a black sweater, and a long black jacket, I head to the door to put my boots on. The next thing I know, I'm walking down the streets of Manhattan, similar to yesterday.

I opt to go in the opposite direction of my hotel today to avoid any chance of running into Corbin. As big as this city is, fate has a tendency to have a sick sense of humor, and I’m not willing to test it.

My first stop is with a small florist before I attempt to find another bagel shop. I slip inside to grab a small bundle of red roses and bring them to my nose, taking delight in the sweet smell.

"Those are beautiful," a woman says, interrupting my moment.

"They are."

"My best seller today. I hope whoever you plan to give them to loves them. I never get flowers." She smiles and steps away to the counter to ring someone up.

Ah yes, the gentle reminder that today is Valentine's Day. The day of love. I also hope whoever receives my rose tonight will love it, considering they will be dead. I put the bundle down, grab one single rose, and proceed to the counter to pay before hurrying out of the shop as I think of my Envy kill.

There were people arguing in the parking garage, and I couldn’t help but listen.

“The only reason you even got that job was because of me,” he slurred. “The boss wants to fuck you. You don’t deserve to be the manager.”

“I earned my position. Just because you helped me get hired doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”

“You owe me the same thing you gave the boss to get hired. A slut like you is always willing to suck a cock to get ahead. Why not mine?”

“You’re drunk! Get away from me.”

“You’ll fuck everyone else but not me? I deserve it more than they do. You should thank me properly for everything you have. If it weren’t for me, you would be homeless,” he tossed out, prompting a knee to the balls that allowed her to run from his grasp.

It was good thinking on the woman's behalf because she was able to get away, and he became my target for the night. I was already behind on my choice, unsure of whether or not I would find one, and he stumbled along. Fate.

I slipped my gloves on, pulled the strings on the hoodie tighter to cover my face as much as possible, and yelled out, “Help!” from behind one of the cars in a dark corner. Again, it was fate that one of the lights just happened to be burnt out.

He came over curiously, and when he did, I hit him with the Taser before immediately plunging the knife in and out of his gut. He started to say something that I didn’t want to hear, so the next stab landed in his throat.

Gurgles bubbled out of him while I continued the remaining stabs until I counted to seven. I stepped back and watched as the life drained out of him a bit slower than the rest before tossing my signature rose.

I shake my head and focus on today. The streets are already busy with people, which annoys me. The sooner I can get out of this city, the better. A bagel shop comes into view, and I decide this one is as good as any other, so I pop in and grab a plain bagel with cream cheese. If I were looking for the best option, I would have gone back to Corbin’s. That’s definitely not happening.

I spend most of the day wandering around the city, popping in and out of shops along the way and watching as many people as I can, before ending up in Times Square. I spot several couples walking by holding hands, and it makes me jealous.

Drew and I came to Times Square for our first anniversary and walked around, taking in everything like true tourists. It was the first time I had been to this part of the city, and everything felt so big. There were so many people and businesses. It was like another world. I guess compared to where I’m from, it is another world.

Drew had the purest soul. He never acted like he was from here and I hesitate with that thought. What if it's because he really wasn't from here? No. It doesn't matter. None of that matters, and I won't entertain these thoughts because he's dead. I won't disgrace his memory like that. Stupid Corbin making me have doubts.

Time flies by, and as it gets closer to sunset, I know it's time for me to go back to the hotel to change my clothes and grab what I need to make my kill. Lust will be dying tonight. I just have to find them first.

I make quick work, walking back to my hotel room and changing into my murder outfit. To be fair, it doesn't differ much from my regular outfit. It's just a pair of black slacks, a black long-sleeved shirt, and a black hoodie. Some years I add a black jacket. I always take it back to Pennsylvania and burn it after my kills.

Blending into the dark will be much easier this year because there's no snow. It's been warmer than it usually is in February due to a freak heatwave, but I don’t mind.

I wrap my hair into a tight bun before securing an extra hair tie around it to keep it from falling out and then pull a beanie over my head for extra measure. Can't have one of my hairs accidently making it onto the crime scene, not that they would believe a woman like me would be capable of this level of brutal murder.

I grab my large cross-body purse and shove my knife into it, along with the long-stemmed rose, my Taser, and rubber gloves, as I prepare to find myself a victim worthy of death.

With that, I take the hoodie in one hand and head to the elevator. I'm more on edge than usual with anxiety creeping up when I push my way out of the front of the hotel. Once outside, I pull the hoodie over my head and walk toward the subway, making sure to hop on the Q to head into Brooklyn.

The train arrives right on time, and I slip into a seat, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The more invisible I am, the better. The ride is uneventful, for once, as we make stop after stop through lower Manhattan before crossing over the river.

I don't even know how many stops go by before I decide to get off, not knowing where I ended up. Somewhere in Brooklyn. It's all I need to know as I make my way off the train and up to the streets.

After glancing around to get my bearings, I start walking, unsure of where I'm heading, but I know I’ll find what I'm looking for. This would have been so much easier if I could have just killed Corbin and been done with it. I’m letting this kill be controlled by emotion, which is exactly what I try to avoid.

I pass by a pizza shop, unable to resist the urge to dip in and grab a slice before I go on my way again. No sense in doing this on an empty stomach. There’s a bar up ahead with music filling the streets, so I go in that direction. There has to be some lustful man around a bar, right?

As if the universe knew exactly what I was asking for, some guy walks toward me. Even in baggy slacks with a hoodie over my head, he still finds a way to objectify me.

"Hey gorgeous," the guy says as I walk past, and I already know where this is going to go. I may have just found Lust after all. These men really make it so easy by being nasty trash-bag human beings.

"No," I say, giving him a chance to walk away. He obviously doesn't.

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that. It's Valentine's Day. What's a beautiful girl like you doing all alone?"

I turn to face him with a flat expression. "Does it look like I want to be bothered by you?"

"It looks like you stopped to talk to me," he says, reaching out to place his hand on my waist.

I try to keep myself from recoiling because I don't want his hand on me, but it makes me feel better knowing I will kill him before the night is over. He had the opportunity to prove he wasn’t a pile of shit, but the only thing he managed to prove is that he deserves to die.

He touched me without my permission. I said no, but he didn’t listen. He is lustful toward me, and that's the only green light I need.

“Maybe we should go find somewhere more private to talk," I toss out with very minimal interest.

Still, he takes it as his open invitation to pull me closer and sniffs me like a fucking creep. I catch a whiff of stale beer on his breath, and he reminds me of my first kill, Gluttony.

"Yeah, I've got somewhere for us to go, pretty girl." He smiles, revealing a missing tooth, before grabbing my hand and pulling me down the street.

We stop in front of a door of what looks like an abandoned building with a steel rolled-down gate and graffiti covering it, and I make sure I keep my head down. My heart rate picks up as the man wiggles the door handle and pushes it open.

I start to wonder if maybe this was a bad idea and worry about whether or not there are other people inside the building. The last thing I need is to be reckless enough to end up in an entire homeless camp. I have a Taser and a knife, but that’s not going to save me from an ambush. Stupid emotions.

"I don–" I start, but he interrupts.

"It's just us here. This is my secret place. I don't share." His eyes narrow at that last sentence.

Once inside, he pushes me up against the wall with a disgusting smile. His hands grope me through my hoodie as I reach into my bag to pull out the Taser. I waste no time bringing it up to his neck, hitting him with it twice while I pull my knife and gloves out.

He falls to his knees, screaming, and I kick him onto the ground with my foot. I hit him with the Taser again for good measure, and his body contorts to the side as his muscles seize up. He doesn't try to move, so I take the free moment to pull on my rubber gloves to keep the blood from getting onto my hands and then hover over him.

"Lust dies today," I say as I plunge the knife into his chest for the first time.

I puncture one of his lungs and let relief fill my veins. Feelings always overwhelm me with the first stab. As he begins to come back to reality from being tased so many times, he begs for me to stop. I bring the knife down a second time, hitting him on the opposite side of the chest. Then I stab him a third, fourth, and fifth with no defense.

My chest heaves as the adrenaline floods through me, and I pause for a second before plunging the knife into him the sixth time, watching as the life fades from his eyes. There’s no reason for me to stab him again, but I do anyway because they all get seven.

Seven sins. Seven kills. Seven stabs.

I reach into my bag to pull out the rose and toss it on his chest. One final touch. It’s a little smashed, but that doesn’t matter. Now, I'll stop somewhere to place an anonymous call to the police about a noise complaint so they know to come here and investigate; otherwise, I doubt anyone will find his body any time soon if I don’t.

After looking down at myself, I’m satisfied with how minimal the blood splatter was this time. There's a mirror in my purse that I use to check the exposed skin on my face for blood, and I only see one tiny spot that I wipe off with my hoodie.

Wearing black isn't just an aesthetic choice. It's also great for hiding blood. I pull my gloves off, placing them in the Ziplock bag that I brought inside my cross-body, and once they’re safely secured in my purse, I take the hoodie off, turn it inside out, and slide it back on. I'll get rid of everything permanently like I always do when I get home.

One glance around the scene fills me with reassurance. I don't see any cameras inside, so I’m fairly sure I can leave without getting caught. I pull the hood back up and keep my head down as I quietly push open the door to make my way back to the Q.

The sooner I can get back to the hotel to get my shit, the better. Another job well done. Good riddance to this city until next year.