Want.
There she was, placing the key into the lock of her door. I stood there, in the shadows of her office, silently puffing away at the cigarette between my lips. It was early for her, only 5:45 am. The office didn’t open until 6:30 but that wasn’t stopping her. She was going to sit at her desk, twiddle her pretty blonde hair between her fingers while she chewed on her pencil, searching for that guy. Me, ironically, but she would never know that. She couldn’t know that, she was my next taste, my next conquest. I will have her.
The doorknob turned and she floated into the room. I wish I could say it was literally, but I hadn’t gotten to touch her yet. To perfect her yet. One last drag and I tossed it down, crushing it with my heel. She hadn’t noticed me yet, the sound of rain pounding on the windows drowning out the noise I was making. She shuffled over and stopped, sniffed and looked around, quite frantically.
“Don’t worry, ma’am. I’m not here to harm you. I’m here to help,” I said smoothly, “Bastard took my wife from me, I saw him with my own eyes.”
She seems flustered as she sets her items on the desk in front of her. She doesn’t quite believe me. I don’t blame her really. I don’t quite believe me either. I walk over to her, pulling up my sleeves to show her the scars. Hook, line and sinker. I have this pretty little blonde hooked. She will be mine.
“You see, my wife never came home, so I went looking for her. I caught a glimpse of him dragging her down an alley. I tried to fight, r-really I did,” I pause, a small crack in my voice and a slight tremble in my body, “H-He hit me ma’am and slashed at me and I f-fell and now…”
She’s staring now, so sad and horrified. Perfect. I can almost taste the ecstasy and its hard to hide my excitement, but I manage. She never notices the look in my eyes, that animalistic need to just.. But I get ahead of myself.
“Well sir, if you want, you can show me where you last saw this monster and we can go from there,” she says softly.
God, her voice is like an angel! I am almost giddy and I yank another cigarette from the pack. “I-If you insist, ma’am.”
“Please, call me Trepe. And what is your name sir?”
“Sinclair. Reno Sinclair.”
She followed me to the alley. Oh that fateful alley. There was an abandoned building at the end, it was perfect. Trail of blood set up, and I follow behind her like a hurt child. She’s checking everything out and I’m watching her beauty become illuminated as the dawn slowly progresses into pure daylight. I let out a small shudder as she reaches the building, the end of the trail.
She touches the knob, opens it slightly and I slam into her, plunging her inside, into darkness. I grab her hair, my eyes are used to this and I rip her head back. Lowering my head, I whisper to her, “Dear God, I can’t wait to taste you.”
And the tears flow.