Posted by critmk on May 29, 2003 at 07:53:20:
To view the PICTURES that go with this novel, open a new window to my briefcase at
http://photos.yahoo.com/bc/critmk/lst?.dir=/Sisters+novel&.view=t
Sisters
a novel by critmk
Chapter 24: Last Living Relations
I grabbed the bloody knife from the floor and walked to the heavy oak door to Barbara’s suite. It was locked.
I could have blown the lock off, but why not try the easy way first? I knocked and readied the commando knife.
A stupid-looking, fleshy, bespectacled girl in her early 20s opened the door. Her red-gold hair was tautly pulled back. She wore a pinstriped, charcoal miniskirt over dark pantyhose and chunky black heels. Her plunging white bra was visible beneath a sheer white blouse barely fastened by a tie in the middle. It flared open over her belly and cleavage.
A little girl voice -- “Can I help you?” -- preceded a gush of blood through her small, cute mouth. The knife looked huge and obscene jutting from her soft belly. She flashed a nice wedge of white panty when she hit the floor and commenced her writhing and death agony.[redhed25.jpg goes here]
It was quite a show, but I was more interested in the 42-year-old woman, my ultimate target, on the sofa to my left. Anger blended with my lust as I strode toward her. Barbara didn’t scare easily, but I saw fear and panic in the eyes of the woman I was about to attack.
[barbsister42.jpg goes here.]
Confusion was in those eyes, also. It gave me pleasure to think I’d caught cool, calm Barbara completely off guard. Did she even know who I was? I looked a lot different now, bulked up, head shaved, tattoo on my neck.
She couldn’t even get a word out. She sputtered and stuttered as she watched the redhead die.
“Hi Barbara, it’s so good to see you again.” My voice sounded like a stranger’s to me. It was quiet with cold rage. “You look hot in that velvet dress. Violet’s a good color for you.”
“Please…”
She finally managed to form a few words: “Don’t hurt me. You’re wrong, she’s not… I’m not…”
I shut her up by backhanding the 9mm across her jaw. Her head lolled against the back of the sofa. Her short dress hiked up. She was woozy, but conscious. That’s how I wanted her. [barbsister42A.jpg goes here.] I put the gun down, unbuckled and unzipped. My dick pointed hard and straight at her pussy, which was covered only by a sheer layer of pantyhose.
I clicked open a switchblade, knelt before her, spread her legs and cut a slit in her pantyhose. “I’m going to kill you, Barbara. I’m going to stab you to death. And while I do it, I’m going to fuck you. Do you understand? You’re going to die with my dick inside of you.”
She moaned in response, and she kept moaning as I stood, grabbed her by the hair and pulled her mouth over my dick. Her eyes widened and she seemed to come around a little as I rammed deep into her throat. She got out a muffled scream.
Her eyes clamped shut and a second scream tried to get by around my throbbing dick as I stabbed her in the back, just inside the right shoulder blade.
“You wouldn’t have been thinking about biting me now, would you baby? Me, your old partner in crime, the guy who’s killed so many women for you?” I hissed into her ear.
I yanked the knife from her back and my penis from her mouth. I threw her against the backrest of the couch and dropped to my knees. Her chest heaved with her labored breathing. Her lips trembled. God I was loving this.
“Look at me, Barbara.”
I wanted her to see the knife coming. Her eyes followed the six inches of stainless steel all the way into the center of her left tit.
Her back arched and her bottom slid toward me. That made it all the easier to slide into her pussy. It was as if she were fucking herself.
I left the knife in her chest and grabbed her hips, stroking her hard. Her tits and the hilt of the weapon bounced with each stroke. She was trying to speak but her voice kept catching before she could make sense: “I… I… I’m n… No… wrong…”
The sexual excitement was so intense that I felt beyond all bounds, insane, even. I was there, but not there. I could see, feel and hear everything, but at the same time a blinding white heat enveloped my brain.
I pulled the knife from her chest as the first spurt of cum shot into her body. With each subsequent spurt, I stabbed her – in the throat, through the ribs, in the outside of the thigh, in the belly, in the tits again and again.
By the time I was done with her, the front of her dress was soaked in blood and cum had filled her cunt and surged out and smeared across her crotch. I pulled out, and as a final gesture plunged the knife into the neatly shaved blond triangle above her pussy.
The satisfaction of that moment was beyond any experience of my life.
It wouldn’t last.
A bullet crashed through my ribs and I hit the floor on my back. I couldn’t move. The room swam dizzily in my vision. A face came into focus at the center of the whirlpool.
“Well, lover, I see you’ve met my sister,” Barbara said. She perched on the arm of the sofa and examined her dead double. Barbara was dressed exactly like my victim, down to the diamond necklace and black heels.
“Did quite a number on her, too. You know that old saw about empathy between twins? It’s bullshit. I didn’t feel a thing.”
She stood over me and smiled.
“You look ridiculous with your pants down like that, Jack.”
I didn’t answer, I couldn’t.
“What’s the matter? Mouth quit working? Don’t sweat it. The paralysis is from a chemical coating on the bullet. It’ll wear off in an hour or two. It will also be undetectable. Amazing the stuff defense contractors have lying around.”
She put her own gun on the end table, pulled on some long gloves and picked up my Uzi. She pointed it at me. I didn’t care. I wanted to die.
“Well, you got to know my sister. Now it’s time to meet her daughter, my niece – my last living relative.”
She called out a name – Nissa, I think it was – and a few minutes later a lovely girl, about 20, entered. She wore a black tube top, a short khaki skirt and simple three-strap sandals. No hose or jewelry. She looked athletic, but not over muscled. Thick, wavy, light-brown hair fell to her broad shoulders.
“What is it Aunt Barb – OH MY GOD! MOTHER!!”
She ran toward the body, but Barbara restrained her.
“Mustn’t touch, honey. Evidence, you know. Just stay by me, dear.”
“What happened?” she sobbed. “What the hell could have happened?”
“Well,” Barbara began, in the patronizing tone of a kindergarten teacher, “this bad man I just shot was very mad at me and came to kill me. But he saw your mother first and thought she was me, so he killed and raped her instead. Or did he rape her and then kill her? No matter. Either way, he was so busy fucking her that he didn’t notice me come in, and I shot him. Wasn’t that lucky for me?”
When it came to cruelty, I was an amateur compared to Barbara Laufer. She was actually taunting her niece over the death of her mother – Barbara’s own twin sister!
The poor girl recoiled from her aunt. It was too much for her -- tears flowed and her whole body began to quake.
Barbara’s tone went from sickly sweet to icy.
“Listen, you little cunt. Did you really think I’d cut you and my bitch of a sister in on the fortune I won with my own sweat? Do you know how many guys I had to fuck and how many people I had to kill to get it? And then you two show up and want in?
No fucking way.”
[niece.jpg goes here.]
A few of the Uzi’s 20 rounds bore harmlessly into the wall, but most of them went through flesh before hitting plaster. Barbara shot the girl to pieces. She bumped and spun as red holes opened in her belly, tits, and throat. Her limbs flailed as biceps and thighs exploded. The force of the slugs kept the girl on her feet – the left of which had a bullet hole in the instep. She didn’t drop until Barbara ran out of ammo.
“Well, Jack,” she said, casually pulling off her gloves. “It seems that you sadistically machine-gunned the daughter before stabbing the mother. You are such a beast. Maybe I should shoot you again.”
She pitched the gloves out the window, and they sailed away in the stiff breeze. They’d probably land across the river in Illinois. She picked up her little gun again and poked at my dick with it. I couldn’t feel a thing.
“Why do you think it was so easy to get in here tonight, Jack?” she continued. “Could it be that I wanted to you to?”
Way too late, I understood with utter clarity that Barbara was too ruthless and too smart for me. We weren’t in the same league.
“Those women in the conference room, my sister, my niece – I wanted them dead, Jack. They were from my past life, of petty crime and prostitution. When they heard about me and the company and all that money, they got together and came after me. I pretended to welcome them aboard; they never knew I wanted them dead.
“Of course, it wouldn’t do to kill them myself. Such a spectacular massacre required a serial sex killer. Someone like you, Jack.
“I knew that this corporate retreat would be irresistible to you – all this pussy to kill, gathered in one place, with me as the prize at the bottom of the Cracker Jack box. That’s why I hired the dumbest twats I could find to work security. I knew you’d cut right through them. I guided you here, to this room, to this moment. I made sure my sister would be here waiting for you. I watched the whole thing, from the swimming pool to the conference room, on closed-circuit. You put on a great show, Jack. I came a dozen times watching you murder those women. I especially enjoyed the way you made the brunet murder the blond in the conference room. Nice touch.
“It’s a funny thing about that security camera, though. The police will find that a key transistor failed and the system never functioned. Why, I just had no idea, no idea at all, of what was going on outside this suite.”
She paused and stroked herself kittenishly with her gun and came to a quick, shuddering orgasm.
“You’re probably wondering whether I’m going to kill you. Surprise, surprise, love – the answer is no. I want to show everyone how decent I am. As evil as you are – even after you murdered my dear sister and her innocent child -- I’m generous enough to let you live and face a proper trial.
“I’ll have the sympathy of all St. Louis, and you’ll be the most monstrous sex criminal in history. It will be amusing to see you try to blame all this on me. You’ll be so pathetic. The capper will be the execution, with you ranting about my guilt, me telling Barbara Walters how nothing can ever bring back my sister and my friends, but at least justice was done and we all have closure. The media loves closure. Oh, it will be delicious. I’ll be on the front page for months.
“Thanks for all your help, Jack. It’s been lovely chatting with you. But now it’s time to get things moving.”
She went to the phone and got into character. By the time she dialed 911, she was sobbing and hysterical.
“Help me!” she screamed. “He killed my assistant. He killed my niece! He killed my SISTER!!”