Page 24

Billy

O nce I finish drying off, I enter the bedroom to discover her sound asleep. I kneel on the bed and rip down the covers.

“Lou,” I say.

She doesn’t stir. I ease myself between her legs and stroke my cock.

Spreading her wide, I spit against her pussy and slide my fingers over her slit. Rubbing her clit with my fingertips, I press the head of my cock into her.

The way she grips me is out of this world. She’s in a dead sleep tonight—inch by inch I sink into her, and Lou just lies there.

As I play with her, wetness coats my dick and I glide into her fully. Her eyes still aren’t open, but the warmth of her cunt is too good and the smile that crosses her lips is enough for me.

After thrusting into her for a few minutes, I hear the small moans and know she’s finally coming around .

As her legs’ grip me and her wetness engulfs me, I withdraw.

“Don’t stop,” she whimpers.

“Lie on your stomach,” I command and pull out. She begrudgingly turns over, presenting me with her beautiful ass.

I clutch her wide-set hips and force her down to lie flat on the bed. “This is why it won’t work.”

Turning around, I face her legs and stretch mine out alongside her body. I’m unsure how she thinks the guy in her story has three arms, but I am already struggling.

Leaning forward, I tilt my pelvis and grip the base of my dick to aim for her pussy, but at best, I only glide through her juices. She pushes back at me.

“Lou, it will not work, unless this main male character has a bendable twelve-inch cock.”

“There’s an idea,” she whispers and laughs.

I reach out and grasp her shoulder, urging her to turn onto her back. With a firm grip on her hair, I exert pressure and guide her head toward the edge of the bed.

I walk forward and tap my cock on her lips. She opens her mouth so fucking perfect.

I advance and grasp her tits, squeezing the nipples as she releases throaty moans. Her tongue runs over my balls and my eyes roll in my head .

As Lucy’s hands run over the back of my thighs with her long nails, it scratches an itch in my brain I didn’t notice I had.

I retreat and then press back into her warm mouth slowly and slip into her throat.

“Take it like the slut I know you are,” I grit out, continuing as she gags around it.

Reaching forward, I play with her clit as she sucks the life out of my dick.

“This position would work for what you wrote. He can fuck her mouth and shoot down her throat.”

A grumbled sound comes from under me, and I slam my cock deep, the sharp scratch of her nails telling me she wants air. It makes my dick throb harder.

Pulling away from her, I glance down into her teary eyes. Drool pools on her cheeks and her puffy lips look so fucking delectable.

“Fuck me?” she asks.

I grin and wink at her. “Lay down on your stomach again,” I say.

Stroking my cock with her spit until she’s in position, I kneel behind her with my knees on the outside of her thighs.

I thrust into her and wrap her hair around my hand as her tight walls milk my cock. It’s much slower this way, but I’m able to be so damn deep.

“Such a good fucking girl,” I whisper into her neck, lowering myself closer to her jawline.

“Fuck me harder,” she responds.

“Greedy fucking whore.” I raise up on my knees, happy to oblige as I let go of her tresses and grip her shoulders.

“Play with your clit, make yourself come all over my cock,” I growl.

As she rubs her clit, I thrust into her while I hold on tightly. Her body quivers and when she snaps, it’s so fucking hot. Lucy’s pussy grips me tighter and screams out.

“Keep playing,” I grit out. Circling my hand on her throat, I lower until my mouth is next to her ear. “Come for me again, keep milking my cock.”

“Billy,” she gasps. I don’t stop until she’s clenching around me again.

“Just like that, Lou. Just like that.”

As her body trembles under me, I can’t resist the urge to thrust into her, filling her completely.

I lie against her, my breath coming in ragged gasps, until my cock slips out.

She gets up and walks out the door. When she returns, she nestles against my chest. Pulling the comforter snugly around us, I caress her hair, savouring the tender moment.

“I love you, darlin’,” I whisper.

“Billy, you make me so fucking happy. I love you.”

“Ladies, how’re we doing?” I ask as I walk into the barn, grabbing my mask and putting it over my face. The silence is deafening as I step into the room.

I wonder if they’ve stopped eating. It’s been a week, and they finally caved after a few days to eat parts of the brain and intestine.

The smell of decay has permeated the entire building, clinging to every surface and filling the air. It reminds me of the rotting corpse in the wheelbarrow.

Tonight seems as good as any to finish this. I’m bored with cleaning up after them. Abduction isn’t my scene, but I think I have enough to go off of for her story.

I much prefer to kill them, use what’s useful, and move on. I’ve sold off a lot of my inventory and only have a box of leather-bound notebooks left in the supply room.

Feels like the right time to stock up and get rid of these sluts .

I flip on the lights in the killing area and head over to the stall to peek in, undoing the locks. I’m disgusted by the mess.

All three of them are covered in dirt. The smell of piss coats the inside of my mask and I control my reflex to retch.

Chastity lies on her back with an arm covering her eyes, while the others huddle together as far from her as possible. Nikki angles her face up to mine, but she quickly looks away. The whore doesn’t look up, and I grip the knife in my hand as I walk into the stall.

“What’s the deal?”

“She’s dead. It’s your fucking fault,” Nikki screams.

I turn toward her, and she flinches and shrinks away. I shake my head and kick Chastity’s arm. Her face has turned a sickly shade of grey. Maggots crawl out of her eyes.

Fuck.

“Was she not eating?” I think out loud.

With a tight grip on her ankle, I drag her through the gritty mixture of dirt and straw. Creaking from behind me makes me drop her before holding out the knife. I shoot a piercing glare at Nikki, and she scurries back to her spot.

I grasp the dead body again and haul her out of the stall. Using my knife, I flick the maggots at the women .

“Kill us. This is fucking hell.” Leah tries to spit at me, but the thick spittle sticks to her lip.

I spin around to look at her. Her colourful hair looks awfully dull and is caked with dirt.

“Just wait your turn. It’s coming.”

I head toward the back door, the sight of Monica decomposing in the wheelbarrow catching my attention before I dump the body down.

“Man, you only had to eat and things would’ve been better for you,” I tell her. I strip off her clothes and use a hose to wash away the grime before leading her to the table in the killing room.

“Fuck you, asshole. How dare you think you can make us eat people!” Leah screams from the stall.

I huff a breath out of my mouth, doing my best to not smell. I open up every door, needing the scent to leave, and then go out back as I start the fires.

The heatwave we’ve been experiencing hasn’t done any good to these girls.

I walk back through the hallway and stop. “Were you not letting her drink?” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder.

“Why would we tell you anything?” Nikki spits at me, which is fair.

“Well, I have the option to end it all now, or I can choose to keep you for another couple of weeks. Chastity’s organs probably taste like shit, though.”

“She wouldn’t eat or drink,” Cotton-candy whore offers, but doesn’t look up .

Nikki glares at her. “You cunt, that’s not true. When the water came in, you stole hers and tried to take mine. Greedy fucking whore.”

I raise my eyebrows. Honestly, the fire within Nikki this far in is impressive.

“I have a fucking career to go back to. You’re nothing but filth,” Leah spits at her.

“Christ, who knew you were such a fucking cunt?” I say and click my tongue.

Waltzing away from them, I place my favourite CD and turn the dial, and Leah starts talking.

“I know who you are,” she hisses.

“Everyone knows who I am. The Keepsake Killer.” I groove to the music and put a finger against the lips of my mask.

“No, you’re that fucking bitch’s boyfriend.”

I grit my teeth, but don’t turn around. I won’t entertain her bullshit as much as I want to cut out her tongue. If I don’t react, it’s possible that she’ll think she’s wrong. I sound like every other blank word document man out there.

The body’s skin is grey, and there is no way I can use it. Her carcass lies on the table, filling the air with the stench of death, as bloody foam leaks from her nose and runs down over her mouth. The bloating has made everything too fucked to work with. I settle on exploring her body cavity.

Lucy will have to write a book about making someone a human puppet. I feel like it could be effective, and think about it for a minute to terrorize the women in the stall, but decide the smell will infiltrate my skin and never leave my brain like a phantom.

Moving quickly but efficiently, I spend the next hour cutting her into pieces. Outside, the fire burns white and I add a little more stump remover.

Most of the two girls have gone, and with a quick motion of my hand the one’s head lands in the pit.

I lean against the rotting wood, captivated by the grotesque transformation of her once peaceful features. I finish my cigarette and flick it into the metal barrel, then, using the stick, push the fragments around, adding more to the collection.

I return inside, the grunge blaring through the barn. Taking a sip of my energy drink, I stretch before heading to the stall. Two down, two to go.

“What the actual fuck!” I yell as I enter the space.

Nikki is moved into the corner and Cotton-Candy Whore looks at me with blood leaking down her chin.

“You a cannibal now?”

She raises her eyebrow and shrugs.

I grip Nikki’s shoulder and pull her out of the stall.

“She’s fucking crazy,” she mumbles. She walks willingly to the killing room without me even leading her .

I then stand in the stall, a red haze covering my vision, and kick Leah in the ribs. Fucking bitch ruined everything, and I grit my teeth.

With a firm grip on her grimy hair, I deliver a powerful blow to the side of her face. She turns as I walk away and spits blood and tissue at me.

I lock the enclosure and walk to the killing room. Nikki is already standing by the soaked wooden table. No matter how much I clean, it’s never going to be as sterile as the metal one in my shop. I’ll have to get another one, eventually.

“Why do you do this?” Her long dyed red hair lies above her head as I help her onto the table. Her face is calm, and I despise all aspects of this. At this rate, it’s only for product.

“Bad childhood I guess,” I say.

Picking up the restraints, I tie her in place. When I pick up the scissors, her eyebrows raise, and her breathing quickens.

“You shouldn’t blame everything on your childhood. You can change, you know. I had a shitty one, but I don’t use it to be a piece of shit.”

“That’s the difference between you and me, then.” I cut off the dirty clothes she’s wearing.

She’s a mid-size woman. I drag the scalpel over her skin, and she gasps and closes her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this,” she utters .

“Unfortunately for you, I do.” The first slice beads blood. Her skin is lax as I cut it off her obliques and the tops of her thighs.

“Be right back,” I say.

When I return, she quivers on the table. Shock will set in and soon she’ll pass out for the rest of the work.

I pull on one side of her body to turn her over and that’s when I see the damage that happened. Long scratch marks cover her entire back, chunks of flesh missing from her shoulders and the backs of her thighs.

Anger is a funny thing. They say it’s the flip side of grief, and, in this instance, I guess I’m sad that my product has gotten so fucked up.

It starts in my lower belly, like when you have a cramp, and climbs through my intestines until it circles my stomach. Its tendrils filtrate through my lungs until the talons of rage wrap around my throat and enter my mind where I can’t do anything to stop my actions.

Using my other knife, I slice her up, reaching for my spoon while I carve out every ounce of fat that is available. Flipping her over, I repeat the process until my bucket is full.

Nikki is gone, but her eyes are still open. It’s as if she’s trying to judge me after death.

Checking my watch, I realize I don’t have enough time to do any exploring, so I grab the bone saw and cut her up the best I can, then head out to the fire to add more stump remover and grab the empty wheelbarrow.

Disappointment curls through my intestines, knowing I’ll never be able to send gifts of these last three kills to their loved ones. All of it has been ruined.

I lift the mask up and light a cigarette. Watching the flames lick up the barrel, I add pieces of Nikki.

Leaning against the barn, I stare at the night sky, thinking about the one question I’ve never wanted asked and have no fucking answer for. Why do I do this? Simple, but so complex.

It’s hard to tell someone you love it, that you explore bodies and generate a profit because it’s a fun time. The great little packages are some deep need to make my mother feel that gut-wrenching dread, but that cunt wouldn’t have ever cared if I lived or died.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I toss the butt into the fire and add more pieces until I’ve filled the barrel. Flames dance against the night as an amazing song comes on and I’m out of the sentimental journey my brain tried to force me on.

Dancing back indoors, I’m fed up with this cunt in my barn, destroying my product. Shaking my head, I lower the mask over my face.

I unlock and rip open the door. She lays in a pathetic heap. I can no longer think straight, the black slime in my skull too much. She’s ruined a lot, and I can’t help but assume she’s purposely here to destroy me.

I hit her, but I feel nothing, and with the lack of noise, I can tell the punches aren’t landing hard enough. I grab the spoon from my back pocket and dig into her skin. She would be useless to work with anyway, given the number of tattoos she has.

She sings the sweet melody I’ve been looking for all fucking night.

“Fuck you,” she screams. People are so unoriginal.

I clutch her hair, holding tightly while I bash her face off the wooden slates of the stall. It still isn’t enough.

I walk to my bench, restart my CD, and grab my knife. I make several cuts and run my fingers through the wounds. Blood flows over my fingertips and coats my palms as she screams into the air.

I attempt to carve the tattoos off, but it’s pointless. There is nothing of her I can use, but I keep cutting and gouging her to satisfy the rage monster within me.

Using the bone saw, I hack away at her ankle. She deserves nothing less than this sort of death for the way she has treated my Lou.

She’s a mess. Blood and shit pour out of her. I’ve never killed someone off the table, and as the darkness fades away, the anger curls back into my stomach like a coil.

Glancing at my watch, I realize I’m going to have to have a fire tomorrow to take care of the rest of the evidence.

Reaching down, I check but can’t find a pulse. Kicking her for one last measure, I slam the door of the stall and store my tools away.

I head out the back door and push around the last of the fire before putting the lid on.