Walk This Way
This Is It
Step closer darling, this will only hurt a moment. I’m calling to her in my head. I wonder if she can hear me for five feet of beautiful blonde steps in front of me.
“Walk this way sweetheart” I breathe out, but the words barley make it past my lips before they are sucked into the black of night. My stomach throbs in a twist of guilt and hunger as I stare at her stunning legs. It’s almost enough to make me double over in pain. God only a few more steps and she’s mine. How long has it been since I’ve eaten one of my delights? It seems like years to me. She comes close enough and then I strike.
It’s an art form at this point. Slip my hand over her beautiful pink lips, so soft they are against my hand but I’m careful, I don’t want mommy or daddy to hear her scream. No, never. We’re too good for that. Out come the duct tape and the rope. Bind her good and tight, so she doesn’t slip away from me. So beautiful, so soft, she smells amazing. Her skin bleeds the scent of roses and fear and her hair permeates strawberries. My stomach growls again, ‘when’s dinner?’ it seems to be asking. Soon I promise myself, carrying the small girl to my car.
She seems to be nearly of age, maybe a bit under. She’s so light; I hope it’s not an eating disorder. That’s not good for her body. Disorder’s make the skin vile. Her bright blue eyes are screaming for help. They’re begging me to let her go. It almost brings tears to my eyes, but instead brings a pang of hunger to my stomach. Slam the door and think about that luscious flesh resting where no one can see in the back seat of my tinted car, another stomach pang. I drive away wondering what I want first, what to cook. Martha would be proud of my twists on modern food. God, I am so hungry...
I hear her beating her body against the edges of the seat, no doubt trying to escape from her binds. I reach down into the passenger’s seat extracting a small vile of tranquilizer. Don’t want to her bruise now do we? That gives the tender, tantalizing flesh a horrible flavor and with not much to consume anyway, why chance it? I pull out my pleasure needle sucking the liquid up and injecting it into the artery in her neck. She roughly thumps around trying to escape the needle, but slowly her beautiful blue eyes drift shut. Good girl, sleep now, there’s no need to fear me and my pointy things. Sleep doll, and don’t wake up.
When I get home, off goes the blonde hair, bye-bye blue eyes, stick them in a jar and put them along the shelf with the others. Always blue, they’re always blue. You’ve gotta love them blue eyed girls. I look around admiring my work. There must be twenty-five sets of eyes floating in formaldehyde in front of walls lined with newspaper clippings.
No more then two hours later, I’m dizzily sitting down to my food. The radio’s playing in the background, tuned to a local station. A man’s voice easily comes out of the speakers, announcing a local band I’ve never heard of. As I slowly cut tender meat and stick it in my mouth, a smile raises itself to my moving lips. It’s a missing person’s alert.
“Katelyn Holmes, age seventeen, was abducted some where near Allison Avenue around nine thirty this evening. She’s five foot one, weighs about 100 pounds, with blonde hair and blue eyes. If anyone has seen this woman, please call 1-800- THE-LOST.”
“Walk this way sweetheart” I breathe out, but the words barley make it past my lips before they are sucked into the black of night. My stomach throbs in a twist of guilt and hunger as I stare at her stunning legs. It’s almost enough to make me double over in pain. God only a few more steps and she’s mine. How long has it been since I’ve eaten one of my delights? It seems like years to me. She comes close enough and then I strike.
It’s an art form at this point. Slip my hand over her beautiful pink lips, so soft they are against my hand but I’m careful, I don’t want mommy or daddy to hear her scream. No, never. We’re too good for that. Out come the duct tape and the rope. Bind her good and tight, so she doesn’t slip away from me. So beautiful, so soft, she smells amazing. Her skin bleeds the scent of roses and fear and her hair permeates strawberries. My stomach growls again, ‘when’s dinner?’ it seems to be asking. Soon I promise myself, carrying the small girl to my car.
She seems to be nearly of age, maybe a bit under. She’s so light; I hope it’s not an eating disorder. That’s not good for her body. Disorder’s make the skin vile. Her bright blue eyes are screaming for help. They’re begging me to let her go. It almost brings tears to my eyes, but instead brings a pang of hunger to my stomach. Slam the door and think about that luscious flesh resting where no one can see in the back seat of my tinted car, another stomach pang. I drive away wondering what I want first, what to cook. Martha would be proud of my twists on modern food. God, I am so hungry...
I hear her beating her body against the edges of the seat, no doubt trying to escape from her binds. I reach down into the passenger’s seat extracting a small vile of tranquilizer. Don’t want to her bruise now do we? That gives the tender, tantalizing flesh a horrible flavor and with not much to consume anyway, why chance it? I pull out my pleasure needle sucking the liquid up and injecting it into the artery in her neck. She roughly thumps around trying to escape the needle, but slowly her beautiful blue eyes drift shut. Good girl, sleep now, there’s no need to fear me and my pointy things. Sleep doll, and don’t wake up.
When I get home, off goes the blonde hair, bye-bye blue eyes, stick them in a jar and put them along the shelf with the others. Always blue, they’re always blue. You’ve gotta love them blue eyed girls. I look around admiring my work. There must be twenty-five sets of eyes floating in formaldehyde in front of walls lined with newspaper clippings.
No more then two hours later, I’m dizzily sitting down to my food. The radio’s playing in the background, tuned to a local station. A man’s voice easily comes out of the speakers, announcing a local band I’ve never heard of. As I slowly cut tender meat and stick it in my mouth, a smile raises itself to my moving lips. It’s a missing person’s alert.
“Katelyn Holmes, age seventeen, was abducted some where near Allison Avenue around nine thirty this evening. She’s five foot one, weighs about 100 pounds, with blonde hair and blue eyes. If anyone has seen this woman, please call 1-800- THE-LOST.”
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I wrote this a while ago... Tell me what you think.