No warmth from the thin winter sun had managed to penetrate the icy coldness of the room. The child sat, huddled in one corner, shivering, willing the shadowy dimness to conceal her. She held her breath as the man stood motionless, listening for what seemed like an eternity before he turned and strode impatiently away.
He quivered in his boots as he made his way to the living room, the chain in his hands rattled when he clenched his fist to stop the shakes. His victim laid splayed on a metal chair, her face had lost its beauty, twisted and blackened by his torturing - a new means of leaving the world so much that he was sure she wouldn't miss it. He sat and stretched his body on the couch, head back, he closed his eyes. Images of what had happened played in his mind. He smiled.
Maryln was a sweet and lovely girl. Exceptionally beautiful. Her leaving him hadn't seemed to bother him then, well not until she got into a new relationship. Not until she decided to prove she loved her new boyfriend more. Not until she had a child with him.
He had lured her away from the hospital here, to this abandoned shack of a house behind the mountains by kidnapping the child. Surprisingly the phone line in the house still worked.
He strapped her down to the chair, then he unmasked himself. He wanted her to know it was him. He wanted her to fear. He had loved her the first time he kidnapped her, it wasn't supposed to be. 17 women. He had kidnapped and killed 17 women not just for the fun of it but because he needed love but none of them would ever want him. All they wanted was freedom and getting back to their families and their constant scream for help drove him insane until he killed them.
But Maryln was understanding, she loved him, yes. It took three months staying with him to convince her that she loved him and he let her go with the promise that she would stay in touch. But she had deceived him and fled the state. And she had gotten a boyfriend and had a child.
Six years he tracked her, six years he stalked her and now here she was, sitting helplessly in front of him, it gave him a sort of satisfaction. He chose to have a chat with her - it only infuriated him the more so he slapped her with a blade, drawing deep long red lines from her left ear to her lip, widening the size of her mouth, still she was beautiful so he forced petrol down her throat till it came out her nose. He watched her whimper like a puppy drowning in freezing waters, the chemical would eventually kill her but that was not what he wanted. He wouldn't be the killer if he allowed that. He brought out a lighter and she began to plead for her life trying to hop away from him while still strapped to the chair. He lit it.
"You still love me, Maryln?"
"Yes, please.....please don't do this please..."
He came closer. "Do you love me or not!" He yelled.
"I do yes." She sobbed
"This is for lying." He dropped the lighter into her mouth.
She lit up like a camping bonfire with a 'whoosh!'
He smiled, picked up the blade and went into the other room, the child was still here he knew it. There was no other way out of the house. He stomped loudly on the wooden floor, he would take his time so he could come up with another creative way of getting rid of her too. Like mother like daughter? He thought.
She wouldn't be the first child he killed.
Oh no!!! He quivered in his boots as he made his way to the living room, the chain in his hands rattled when he clenched his fist to stop the shakes. His victim laid splayed on a metal chair, her face had lost its beauty, twisted and blackened by his torturing - a new means of leaving the world so much that he was sure she wouldn't miss it. He sat and stretched his body on the couch, head back, he closed his eyes. Images of what had happened played in his mind. He smiled. So scaring dear...Keep writing like this more dear!!!