Page 33 of Run Little Killer
LENNON
T he moon hangs high in the sky, full and bright, casting everything in a pale silver glow. The crisp breeze rustles the leaves on the branches and beneath our feet as we stand beneath the cover of the trees across from Shawn and Natalie's house.
Such a beautiful night for revenge. Still, silent, and begging for violence.
It's almost ironic how idyllic their little neighborhood is.
Green shutters hang beside each window, ceramic planters with orange and red mums line the covered porch.
There's even a porch swing, for fucks sake, the perfect facade giving no hint as to the monsters that live inside. Or the ones about to enter.
Rhett and Nix stand on either side of me, black bandanas tied around their faces. They even offered me one, but I want Shawn and Natalie to see every last inch of my face when I strike. I want them to know why.
It felt so freeing to finally tell my story without the questions or having to constantly defend myself.
Because I didn't provoke Shawn, I didn't ask for him to come onto me or drug me.
And I don't know what's crazier, how easily they believed me, or how they'd already killed for me without knowing the full story.
"Ready, little killer?" Nix asks.
My skin tingles with feral excitement, nerve endings short-circuiting as unhinged adrenaline floods my system. "So damn ready."
"Thatta girl," he murmurs, pulling a knife from the sheath on his belt and flipping it around as he nods towards the house "Go tip the scales of justice. Send them to hell with that pretty smile on your face."
I look up at Nix, his eyes menacing and dark. Then I flick my gaze to Rhett, his blue eyes icy and calm. They’re two twisted reflections in the same fucked up mirror.
"Let's do this," I say with certainty, stepping out from the shadows.
"Lead the way, darlin'," Rhett says as he and Nix follow close behind.
I can just barely make out the glow of a TV through the semi-sheer curtains in the front window of the otherwise dark house. Rhett and Nix split, moving along the sides of the house with a practiced stealth that stirs a restless ache deep inside.
My feet carry me up the front sidewalk, pulse pounding in my ears with each step. I suck in a breath and raise my hand to the doorbell, chimes ringing out as I depress the button.
I swear to god I stop breathing, the whole world coming to a standstill as I wait for someone to answer.
Seconds seem to stretch into hours before I hear the snick of lock and the door cracks open, all the color draining from Shawn's face as if he's staring down a ghost. But I'm not here to haunt him, I’m here to fucking destroy him .
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he grumbles, darting a glance behind him.
"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" I admonish, a feral grin splitting my lips as I tilt my head in question.
" How are you here, Lennon?" he asks, a tiny flicker of fear shining in his eyes as he looks past me, trying to figure out where I came from.
He won’t find anything. We parked behind an abandoned house a few blocks away, careful not to draw any extra attention. Both bikes are fully gassed up and packed, ready for us to make our getaway.
"Shawn!" Natalie shouts in alarm before I can answer him, the shrill sound of her voice grating on my nerves.
He abruptly turns and rushes into the house, yelling out for her. I take that as my invitation to follow him inside, kicking the door closed and trailing him into the dining room.
That’s where we find Nix, one hand restraining Natalie’s hands behind her back, the other holding the serrated edge of his bowie knife against her throat.
"Let her go asshole," Shawn snarls, hand dipping into his pocket. "I'm calling the cops."
"Not so fast," Rhett cuts in, stepping out of the shadows and cocking back his arm.
Shawn's head whips to the side with a sickening crack as Rhett punches him square in the jaw, the force sending him sailing sideways to the floor, his phone clattering against the tile.
Rhett stomps down on the screen, glass crunching beneath his boot as he twists his foot.
"Look," Shawn gasps, sitting up. He spits out a glob of blood, swiping a hand over his chin before continuing. "I don't know who the fuck you guys are, or what delusional story this crazy whore told you, but– "
A high pitched noise cuts him off, the shrill sound slicing through the air.
It's not until my throat starts to burn in protest that I realize it's coming from me, a scream borne of fury I can no longer contain.
My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, black spots dancing across my vision as I swing my gaze around the room.
Heat licks up my spine as I realize everyone is staring at me. My nails dig into my palms hard enough to draw blood, curling into fists at my sides as I yell, "I'M NOT FUCKING CRAZY!"
Like a true narcissist, Natalie can't resist injecting her own commentary, muttering, "Crazy ass bitch."
Nix doesn't hesitate. In a single, fluid motion, he whips his wrist, blood spraying out as the blade rips through her flesh. Her eyes go wide with fear as she crumples to the ground, hands scrabbling against the gaping wound as bright red blood pours from it.
Dropping to a knee, Nix holds the knife in front of her face, blood dripping from the blade. "Only I can call her crazy, you worthless gash," he grits out, plunging the knife back into the wound and twisting.
"Natalie!" Shawn shouts, scrambling to his knees and crawling towards her body.
Her lips move as she tries to speak, but the only thing that comes out is a wet, garbled cough, blood spewing from her lips as her body starts to convulse.
"And you ," Nix spits, rising to his full height. He steps around Natalie's body, coming to a stop beside Shawn, who’s on all fours. Nix draws back his leg, boot driving up and into Shawn's stomach. All the air whooshes from his lungs as he collapses to the floor, face-first in Natalie's blood.
He wheezes as he tries to suck in a gasp, body folding in on itself as he rolls to his back. Nix plants his boot against Shawn’s head, holding it in place. "As much as I'd enjoy slamming my boot through your skull and grinding your brains into the floor, your life is my girl's to end."
Nix is not the eloquent one, or the romantic one, even. Hell, half the things he says are unhinged. But hearing him call me his , claim me when his dick isn't buried in one of my holes, makes my stomach swoop.
"Here you go, little killer," Nix offers, flipping the knife in his hand and holding the handle out to me. "Do your worst," he adds as I grab hold, the leather warm and smooth against my palm.
"Do you regret it?" I ask, looking down at Shawn.
"Regret what?" he scoffs. "You brought this all on yourself, you stupid whor–AHH!" his words dissolve into a yell as Nix digs the heel of his boot harder into Shawn’s cheek.
"Say it," I bite out, hot tears pricking behind my eyes. "Say you're sorry."
"For what?" he coughs, speckles of blood dotting the floor in front of him.
"For what you did to me, you fucking bastard!" My voice starts to break as I stalk closer, waving the knife between us. "For drugging me, raping me, blaming me! For shattering my entire goddamn existence in one night!"
I draw in a shaky breath, all the emotions, the pain, every last pinch of shame I've been forced to deal with rushing out with an exhale as I swing my arm above my head.
My heart kicks up in a flurry, fresh adrenaline punching through my veins as I use all my rage to drive the bowie knife down into his crotch.
A choked scream tears from his throat as I drop to my knees, tears spilling from my eyes as I jerk my hand around, using the blade to rip through the material of his pants.
Blood soaks the fabric with each drag of the knife and I grit my teeth, fingers grabbing hold as I saw the blade back and forth.
Flesh tears, muscles snap, and with one last motion and wet squelch, I hold up his severed dick like a goddamn trophy.
Shawn writhes around in agony, skin clammy as he chokes on a gasp.
Nix's boot is still pinning him in place, blood gushing from the mangled mound between his legs. I set his severed cock aside, saving it for later, and crawl through the pool of blood to point the tip of the blade against the peak of Shawn’s Adams apple.
His throat bobs with a hard swallow, the knife pressing just hard enough for blood to blossom on his skin with the motion.
"You turned my life inside out," I snarl, dragging the knife slowly over his collar bone, digging deeper the lower I go. "And now, I'm going to turn you inside out.”
With a sweep of my arm, I ram the blade down into his paunchy stomach, the skin breaking open with a sickening pop as blood gushes out.
I yank back and repeat the motion, over and over, plunging the blood-slicked blade into his soft center as he wails in pain.
Hot tears stream down my face in cathartic release as his body starts to go limp beneath me.
Killing Chad was a necessity.
Stabbing Micheal was a trauma response.
But Shawn? Killing Shawn is just fucking liberating. Like with this final, bloody act, I'm finally free.
"This is your reckoning and all, darlin'," Rhett says from behind me as I toss the knife aside, grab the chunk of flesh, and push to my feet. "But we ain't taking home any souvenirs."
"Don't worry," I chuckle. "I have the perfect place for it."
Natalie’s face is void of expression as I move toward her, eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling as I crouch down beside her head.
" You tried to silence me," I say, wrenching open her jaw with my blood soaked hands and shoving the shriveled stump of Shawn’s pathetic cock into her mouth. "But you're the one choking on karma."
I rock back to sit on my heels, blood soaking through the material of my leggings as I bask in the silence of the aftermath.