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Next Bestseller (standard:mystery, 3700 words)
Author: AEAyubiAdded: Aug 14 2006Views/Reads: 3491/2291Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is the first chapter of my next book. Let me know what you think.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

He couldn't make out the words, but figured it was her yelling to let 
him know she was coming to the door. 

He waited on the front porch, his heart seemed to beat in his chest a
mite faster as his palms grew damp with nervous sweat, the sudden rush 
of adrenaline in his veins made him jumpy, it was the same feelings he 
felt every time he was about to introduce himself to a victim. It was 
why he liked doing it. From inside he heard the deadbolt click open, 
followed by the sound of the security chain being disengaged. Then the 
door was open and she was standing there in the open doorway. 

She was beautiful; in fact all his victims were, but looking at her
tonight in the soft yellow glow of the porch light he knew she was the 
one who could be called the most beautiful of all. 

Her brown hair was down, spilling onto her shoulders and falling down
her back, unlike the neatness of the French braid she always wore when 
ever she left the house. Her full lips were free of lipstick or gloss, 
but still they looked wet to him. Her walnut shell complexion was 
unmarred by even the smallest blemish, there was the dusting of tiny 
brown freckles that ran across the bridge of her nose, but they 
couldn't be mistaken for a blemish; in fact they only added to her 
angelic loveliness. 

Her sea blue eyes seemed to recognize him from their few brief
encounters, but along with recognition they held something more. 
Bewilderment. 

“Hi.” He said with a smile, a smile he saved only for times like this.
His smile said. “You can trust me baby, I won't bite you. I'm 
completely harmless.” It was a lying smile, but it worked for him every 
time without a hitch. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Well I was just driving down your street here and well I noticed your
car, I happened to remember it from the mall where we had met and I 
have to admit that when I saw you a few days ago I knew you were 
special. So I figured I'd stop by and maybe ask if you'd like to go out 
with me sometime.” He lied, but that was yet another thing he was good 
at. And in her eyes it only looked like the truth, harmless truth at 
that. He noticed the flush of red creeping up her neck and knew she was 
flattered by him. He knew she believed him. 

“I really don't know what I should say to that.” 

“Just say you'll think about it.” 

“I will.” She smiled shyly. “I'll think about it.” 

“Good. Great! I'll let you get back to what you were doing before I so
rudely interrupted. Goodnight.” He said, giving her a slight bow before 
he turned to go. He had her in the palm of his hand, she was his, that 
he was sure of and any moment now she would call out to him... 

“Wait a minute.” 

Then she would ask him if maybe he would like to come in for a drink or
something. 

“Would you like to come in? I mean dinner is almost ready and there is
plenty for another person.” 

“Oh no I wouldn't dream of imposing on you like that. You probably
already have guests for dinner and I'm really not dressed for a social 
affair.” He couldn't help but want to laugh, he could feel it bubbling 
up inside of himself, but he suppressed it. Laughing wouldn't be good, 
it might make her leery. But it was hard not to, he was too good at 
this and still at the same time he wished he wasn't. 

He hated how easy it was for him to earn the trust of an unknowing woman
because he knew in the end he would prove the trust completely 
unwarranted when in time he took her life. Yes he hated it, but that 
didn't stop him from doing it. 

“In all truth I was dining alone tonight.” She admitted. “Really you
wouldn't be imposing; in fact I would enjoy the company.” 

“If you're sure.” He said, half of him hoping she would change her mind,
the other half praying she wouldn't. 

“No I'm sure.” 

“All right then.” He went inside. She closed the door behind him, making
sure to lock it before leading him into the main living room. “Wow your 
place is great, if I were to judge by your lay out I'd say you are 
either a designer or a lover of antiques.” 

“You'd be right in both cases, I truly love old things and I'm an
interior designer.” She said. “Are you familiar with the field?” 

“You could say that. I dabble, but not with anything this perfect.” 

“Would you like something to drink?” 

“Yes, brandy would be nice, if you have any that is.” 

“I do, ice?” 

“That'd be lovely.” She went to get his drink. He had to admit things
were going quite smoothly, this one would be the easiest yet and if he 
was lucky he might even get invited to her bed rather than having to 
take what he wanted from her. She would die, but he might have her of 
her own free will before he finally fulfilled his need to kill.Yes he 
would still kill her, after all it was the only reason why he had come 
here tonight, but if he was able to get other enjoyments before, then 
he would gladly take them in stride. 

“...your drink.” She said and he realized he had been so self absorbed
in his thoughts that he hadn't heard her come back into the room, much 
less what she had said to him. Smiling he turned to her guiltily. 

“Oh I'm sorry, I was so caught up in the beauty of your home that I
guess I wasn't paying much attention to anything else.” 

“I said here is your drink.” 

“Oh.” He said. “Thank you kindly.” 

“You're welcome.” She frowned. “I'm afraid I have forgotten your name.” 

“Collins, Dennis Collins.” He lied. “And you are Ashley Jordan.” 

“You remembered.” 

“Of course, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” 

She smiled, that pink flush he noticed from earlier grew darker. 

Over a dinner of tender veal and baked ziti they talked about life, she
told him about her interior design business and her college days at 
Michigan State University. He told her lies. They joked and they 
laughed and found each others company enjoyable, friendly. 

“Well I guess I should get going, it's getting late...” He started, but
she interrupted him just as he expected her to. 

“It's not that late yet.” 

“All right, I guess I could stay a while longer then.” 

“Do you dance?” 

“Like Fred Astaire.” They danced, he wasn't as graceful as Astaire, but
he never stepped on her feet or missed a step. 

They kissed each other and before long were in her bed. 

Their clothes were scattered on the floor, shirts, skirts, socks, shoes,
all around the area of the bed where they found each others bodies 
wonderfully intoxicating. They kissed and caressed one another, they 
moaned with pleasure and breathed words of ecstasy as their bodies 
moved together in the perfect rhythm of love making. Covered in sweat 
they found themselves insatiable. 

The time on the clock moved on as they both tried harder to please the
other. She had reached that point that few women do during their lives 
and it didn't stop there fore she reached it again and again before he 
finally gave into his own need to just let go. They exploded together, 
spiraling down from the apex of physical pleasure together as one body, 
one mind, one soul. They both were tired, no, not tired, but utterly 
exhausted from their exertions. For a few minutes after they kissed and 
touched each other before finally falling asleep in each others arms, 
snug as bugs in a rug. 

TWO 

Three hours later he was the first to wake, opening his eyes he found
himself seeing Ashley's peaceful, sleeping face. God she is beautiful. 
He thought as he carefully pulled his right arm from underneath her. He 
didn't want to wake her and thankfully he didn't. 

Pulling himself to his feet he stared at her sleeping form for a moment
before turning and going to the adjoining bathroom. Silently he closed 
the door to give himself privacy in case she woke while he was busy at 
work. It was time to kill her and he had a lot of preparations to make. 


Already he anticipated his pleasure, ripples of enjoyment coursed his
naked body as he smiled into the wall mirror. Yes he was addicted to 
this and he doubted he'd ever be able to stop himself. 

THREE 

An hour later Ashley Jordan awoke with a weary yawn she found she was
alone in the bed, her lover was no longer there. She tried to rub the 
grains of sleep from her eyes, but soon found she couldn't. She was 
tied up, spread eagle position, arms and legs secured to the bedposts. 
She was still in the nude and suddenly it was embarrassing rather than 
comfortable as it had been. 

“Ah, you are awake.” He noticed as he walked out of the bathroom. 

“W...What are you doing?” She asked nervously as she fought desperately
to free herself from the ropes that held her. The knots which when she 
had waken had been loose, grew tighter with every pull she made against 
them, she soon realized it was trivial to fight when her wrists and 
ankles were rubbed raw and bleeding. She gave up on trying to free 
herself. 

“I want you Ashley.” He whispered and as he drew nearer her bed she
realized that he too was still naked. One look and she knew what he 
meant by wanting her, at least she thought she knew. He was obviously 
excited, excited and erect. 

“Well why don't you take me then?” 

“I will.” 

“Come and get it then.” She smiled, bringing her hips up in a show that
she was into the same type of bondage sex that he apparently was. She 
loved spankings and handcuffs and leather, it was obvious he did too. 

Silently he went to her and climbed on top, entering her smoothly as he
did. 

She met his first stroke with a thrust of her own, but her body froze,
became rigid when she felt cold steel on the flesh of her neck. Her 
eyes grew wide with confusion and fear, her breathing grew shallow and 
slower. 

“What's...what's that?” She stammered and with each word she uttered the
cold steel object pressed painfully into her Adam's apple. 

“What does it feel like Ashley?” 

“A...a knife.” 

“You're right.” He admitted as he rolled his hips and slowly began to
move back and forth, into and out of her body. She didn't make a move 
to help him, but that was all right, that was how he liked it. That was 
the way he loved it. 

“Why...why?” She finally found the courage to ask, her body still
stiffened by her fear yet it didn't seem to stop him from taking her. 
Her unresponsiveness didn't even slow him down; in fact it only seemed 
to turn him on more. His once gentle movements grew rougher and harder 
and faster. She just wanted to scream out, scream aloud until her 
throat became raw and bloody, but she didn't dare to let her screams 
loose because of the knife against her throat. She knew that it would 
only take one scream and her throat would be carved as easily as a 
Thanksgiving turkey was. In her minds eye she could picture it vividly, 
the razor sharp knife tearing into her neck, her blood flowing freely 
from the wound, staining her flesh and the bed sheets underneath her. 

She wasn't ready to die, she couldn't die, there was so much left undone
in her life. She had never been able to look down upon Paris from the 
Eiffel Tower, never had the opportunity to explore the pyramids of 
Egypt, and had never listened to the symphony in Australia. She had 
never married, had never had children, and so many other things that 
she longed to do before the end of her life. She was scared of death. 
She didn't know what was on the other side and that really bothered 
her, it terrified her. Would there be a Heaven? Well even if there was 
she doubted that when she died she'd go there, she wasn't a barbarian, 
but there were quite a few things in her life that she had done that 
she wasn't too proud of. All the sex she had had with people of power, 
her boss, the company executives, it had all been in the name of 
promotion in the ranks, but she knew it was still a sin. All the drugs 
she had taken (And still was taking), her heavy drinking, all were sins 
and the sinners of the world didn't get through the pearly gates. No. 
She decided. If there's a Heaven I will go to Hell, where I will burn 
for the rest of eternity a slave to Mr. Satan himself. 

He took her so roughly that piercing pain radiated from between her legs
and the moisture she could feel there, she knew was her own blood. With 
each and every thrust she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth to help 
combat the intense pain and burning. 

Oh God will he ever be done? She wondered, it almost seemed as if he had
been doing it forever when at last she felt him growing tired and weak, 
that's when she realized he was almost done. It was almost over and 
silently she thanked God for helping her to get through it all alive. 

Rancid sweat poured off of his body, falling from his chin and shoulders
onto her naked body and it sickened her. There was no difference 
between his sweat now and when she had had it on her lips from kissing 
his strong body earlier while they had made love, but this time it was 
different. This time she wasn't enjoying it, this time he had taken it 
against her will and that was what made it dirty, it made it wrong. 

He began to grunt with every stroke he made, each growing shorter and
shorter. Through clenched teeth he breathed his ragged, hot breath down 
onto and into her face and that too sickened her. 

She realized she was going to vomit, she could taste the burning bile in
the back of her throat, could feel her stomach doing cartwheels inside 
her. Somehow she managed to choke it down and thankfully it didn't 
return. He reached orgasm a moment later and in that split second as he 
exploded inside her, he pulled the knifes razor like blade across her 
neck in one savage stroke. It severed the flesh easier than a hot spoon 
would scoop hard ice cream, blood poured from the freshly opened wound, 
it ran down either side of her neck and stained the white satin sheets 
of the bed crimson. 

Two, then three more strokes and he was done, exhausted again, but also
he was satisfied. The dire need he felt to kill grew weaker and weaker 
before leaving him altogether. 

He watched fascinated as she struggled to breathe, tiny bubbles of blood
formed at the wound, growing larger before they popped, sending 
speckles of crimson raining onto his face as she died. He looked on in 
wonder as her sea blue eyes grew less brilliant as they clouded with 
milky white cataracts that signified approaching death. 

After she gurgled her last breath, he untied her hands and feet from the
bedposts. Rolling her onto her side he crawled into bed beside her, 
carefully pulling the bedspread up to cover them and wrapped his arms 
around Ashley Jordan's corpse. 

“That was beautiful dear.” He whispered into her dead ear, no one heard
a word he spoke, but he said it just the same. “Thank you. You have 
brought me great relief and pleasure tonight and I will never forget 
you. You were special, so special that there aren't words that can 
explain it.” 

He caressed her auburn curls gently as if she weren't dead, but just
asleep and he didn't want to wake her from peaceful slumber, softly he 
kissed her left ear lobe and breathed deeply of her lingering scent. 

He went to sleep that way and had dreams of his special blue eyed girl,
the moment he had slit her throat and the last bloody breath she had 
taken before finally succumbing to her fate. For three hours he slept 
that way and when he woke he woke to a sky that was turning bright from 
the rising sun. Ashley's body had grown iced and stiff with 
rigormortis. Quickly he got out of bed and went to the bathroom, he 
washed thoroughly, rinsed and washed again. He dressed, turned off all 
the lights as he walked through the house and out the front door to his 
van parked across the street. Another name would be added to his long 
list of victims, another corpse would be found by another lame brained 
detective who would never even realize that this murder and all the 
others just like it were not random acts of violence, would not see 
that they were in fact connected and there would be no one or nothing 
to stop him from doing it again. 

Nothing or no one!


   


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