Page 19

ART PROJECTS

LUKAS

I ’m more surprised than annoyed when I creep back to the cabin.

How have they managed to stay up this long?

I know I didn’t make the wine super strong, but a bunch of silly girls shouldn’t be able to hold on this far into the early morning hours.

Amber screams a moan, and it’s almost enough to pull me from the trees.

Almost. The other girls retreat inside, and I watch entranced as that twisted little fuck slides her hand into her pants, moaning for real.

How close can I get before she senses me?

I’ve already fucked her, but she’s here, so ready and willing to be taken.

With a joint between her lips, she one-handedly works her pants down over the swell of her ass.

Moving closer, I crawl as near as I can without being heard.

The sound of her fingers pounding into her pussy is wet, loud, and obscene.

But what’s louder is her voice as it cracks the night.

“I know you’re there, Lukas. ” The way she enunciates my name drives me wild.

I want my real one rolling off her tongue as she grinds against the heel of her hand.

“I want you to watch. See the pleasure I can bring myself without you. How hard I’ll cum to the mere thought of you.

” Her head falls back, back arching, giving me a perfect view of her palming her tit after tossing the joint in the fire.

The embers are dwindling, dancing shadows over her devilish form as she nears her orgasm.

I know I came less than an hour ago, but who could resist this erotic show meant only for them?

No one in their right mind could, and I’m definitely a loose screw or two away from normal.

I pull myself out of my bloody jeans, dick still painted crimson from Bridget, and thrust into my hand in time with the pumping of Amber’s fingers.

Her horny little breaths drag me embarrassingly quick towards the precipice, and when she cums, so do I.

She smothers the sound of her cries against her hand, biting into the flesh.

Storming over, I rip it out of her mouth. “Don’t do that again,” I snarl, towering over her, dick still hanging out.

“Or what?” she coos, spreading her legs as far as her pants will allow.

“I’ll make you lick my cum up from the dirt, little psycho.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” She smiles, drunk and satisfied.

I offer to help her right her pants, and she nods.

But instead, I slip my fingers into her soaking pussy causing her to gasp.

My digits swirl inside her before I pull them out, licking them clean.

Her pupils are blown wide from the drug, alcohol, orgasm concoction, but her attention on me doesn’t waver as she lets out the tiniest whimper.

It damn near buckles my knees as her taste explodes across my tongue. “How do I taste?” she breathes.

“Good enough to eat,” I reply. “But not right now. I have things to do. Do you want a sleeping bag?”

She shifts closer to the fire after fixing her pants, seeking the warmth it has left to offer. “Careful, Lukas, it almost sounds like you’re catching feelings.” A smirk pulls at her plump lips as her eyes fall shut.

They don’t open again, and when I realize I’ve been watching her longer than I anticipated, I turn and make my way back to my truck. Grabbing a sleeping bag from the box, then returning to tuck her in. I toss another log on the fire so she doesn’t freeze to death.

She’s going to pay for whipping me into submission so quickly.

Starting with her SUV.

I make my way quickly and quietly into the cabin, grabbing Amber’s keys. Ensuring the remaining girls are asleep before I start my project. I don’t need them catching me in the act.

I drag Bridget’s Frankenstein looking corpse from my truck, lugging it over to the stage I’m setting.

With a thick rope thrown over my shoulder, I climb the tree in the front yard.

Looping the cord around a secure branch before climbing back down.

Clicking off the alarm on this ritzy vehicle, I open the door, and pop it into neutral.

Pushing with all my might to get it placed under the tree as quietly as possible.

When it’s finally positioned to my liking, I shift it back into park.

Sliding the key into the ignition, and turning it backwards, the battery powers the SUV. Music starts thumping, “FUCK!” I whisper-shout, moving quickly with fumbling fingers to silence “Barbie Girl” by Aqua.

Great…now that fucking song is going to be stuck in my head.

After catching my breath, and waiting to make sure no one woke up, I open the sunroof.

Is it weird I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve killed, but this…

right here, has the most giddy, sinister feeling slithering through me?

If horns erupted from my forehead, and a tail sprung from my ass, I wouldn’t even be surprised.

Murder is different for me, it’s something I do.

I enjoy it, it’s like breathing, it’s a part of me.

But this blatant act to break someone apart slowly before I kill them is new.

I usually fuck them or hunt them before I kill them.

It thrills me in a predatory and sexual way.

This sparring with Amber, it brings me joy.

If I could fuck with her until the end of time, I think I would be happy.

I can’t wait to see the look of horror and despair cross her face when she wakes up, in full view of this picture perfect scene I’m so carefully putting together.

After wrapping the rope around Bridget’s stiffening ankles and tying it tight, I hoist her body up.

Pulling the rope over the branch, and securing it around the base of the tree once the body swings perfectly over the roof of Amber’s pristine white SUV.

Her friend’s nails drag ever so slightly against the metal, creating an eerie scratching noise.

I wonder if it’ll be heard by the girls in the deathly quiet morning.

I’ll most certainly be staying to witness the fruits of my labour.

I climb up on the vehicle’s roof. Kneeling, the metal buckles under the pressure.

Shit, she’s going to be so pissed her roof is dented.

I force down my laugh, focusing on the task at hand.

I place my hands on either screwdriver’s handle, and pull them free.

The skin squelches as the tools are removed, and congealed blood oozes from the annoying one’s ears.

Pulling a knife from my back pocket, I slit her throat from ear to ear.

Blood pours freely, spreading over the roof, and dripping inside through the open sunroof.

It’s starting to cover the vehicle faster than I anticipated.

Quickly, I spin the body, winding the rope up, then pushing it free.

Bridget twirls like a macabre upside-down ballerina, spraying crimson everywhere while I watch mesmerized.

The momentum spins her up and then back down while she sways in no particular path, littering the ground in her blood.

That’s going to attract the animals. Hopefully, Amber doesn’t get eaten by a grizzly.

A lightbulb illuminates the dark fringes of my mind, and I jump down from the roof.

Sprinting across the yard to my truck, I grab the ghillie suit from my truck’s locking storage box.

It contains all the hunting stuff I don’t want stolen, but could need at the drop of a hat. Without thinking twice, I pull it on.

I head over to Amber, who’s out cold in front of the fire, and scoop her up. Kicking dirt into the dying embers to ensure a fire doesn’t start has the woman in my arms shifting. She mumbles something imperceptible, nuzzling into my chest.

Warmth blooms, and I don’t like it.

I am not catching feelings.

Fuck.

I huff, exasperated by this feeling of being roundhouse kicked in the chest, then head inside the cabin.