More Blood

He sat and stared at the body writhing in pain. In his left hand was a penknife slowly dripping blood. It had been easier than he expected. All he did was send her a private message and in no time, she was all his. There was no chase. He wasn't surprised. Women like her lived the opposite of what they preached. He had ignored her at first. Her homophobic rants never bothered him, not until his lover was called out and made mockery of. Tracking her down wouldn't have been a problem, but she made it much easier by coming to him.

The conversations were heated. He knew how to play the game. He had done it more times than he could remember. He disliked girls at first. It all started when he was eight and his mother's sister had touched him in places his mother had told him to not let anyone touch, anyone but her. He had despised his mother's hugs and kisses even then but she was all he had. So he winced and took it each time. Then that Friday night when he slept over at his friend's place came and changed everything. His friend's father had sneaked into the room at night and did everything his aunt used to do to him. Difference was, he liked it very much. Then he discovered social media. A place to not hide and cower in shame. A place to find people who were like you and not ashamed of it. But things don't always work out, do they?

The body had stopped moving. She was his sixth victim but who's counting. Her bad behaviour got her here. He had thought about chaining her to the bed post and punishing her slowly. He liked the looks on their faces when he did. They gave him a sweet hard on. But her ample bosom and rounded buttocks had distracted him. The hard on wasn't as strong but it was good to go. He showed her a good time instead. Make them think you're on their side before the surprise package huh? He had developed a soft spot for females after all.

He almost felt sorry for her. Such a pretty thing, cut open in private places, soaked in her own blood. She might have been his type if he was into females. Not that he minded taking one once in a while, their softness warmed him and reminded him that he was a man, but he liked males more. He enjoyed them. He even loved one. Who would have believed that he could actually love anyone. But that love had been threatened over and over, and he had silenced the voices each time. This time, he had done it while they were both naked. He loved feeling close to them. The connection was priceless.

He stood on wobbly legs and walked to the bathroom. He had never felt this tired before. Each kill always made him feel more powerful. But this time was different. His fingers shook as he washed off the blood. He had to remember that it was all her fault. She wouldn't be here if she hadn't said nasty things about his sexuality. He would have ignored like he always did, but she had mentioned the one he loved the most, just like his other victims had and he couldn't forgive that. For a moment, he wondered if they had fund the bodies of the others. He would take care of each of them, one after the other. Six down, four to go. Feeling more in control, he dressed quickly and slipped out, this time, forgetting to close her open eyes.

My writing is coming back huh? What are your thoughts?

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