Posted by KnightStalker on December 27, 2000 at 14:28:01:
After a rocky romance which had gone bad because of Petr's possessiveness and his rough sexual practices, Layda had finally told him to get lost several weeks ago. She further told him that he was through wasting her time with him and that she was now going to more seriously pursue her career as a ballerina rather THAN settling down with the likes of him. Petr's ego was badly bruised because she did this in front of her fellow troupe members. He began to brood over the loss of his attractive 26 year old who had never really brought him much happiness, but had always managed to satiate his sexual desires. She was going to have to pay for both the indignity and the loss to him.
Petr pondered for a few days on how he was going to give Layda one more chance to restart their relationship, together with how she was going to repay him if she refused. He decided at the time to approach her late at night after an up and coming performance when she would likely be tired. It would be easy to gain access to her appartment because he still had one key he had had the foresight to make an extra copy.
After the way Layda had blasted Petr when she blew him off, he didn't expect her to reconcile with him. Yet, he still felt compelled to at least ask,...once. What he really wanted was for her to suffer because of how much emotional pain he had experienced from the indignity. He wanted her to experience something very personal from him, so he wouldn't use any method that would involve anyone else. She would also have to know that he was the agent of pain.
It would be easy to overpower Layda and then kill her because her very slim 5' 6" body would be no match for Petr's muscular 6' 2" frame. He also wanted the experience of watching her die as well as feeling her slip away from life. The decision was easy. He was going to strangle her with his own hands. He had already had his hands around her neck a few times while they had had sex. He had found the experience to be enjoyable. She had not. Her throat was so slender, as were those of of so many ballerinas, that one of his hands could nearly encircle her entire neck.
While he was fairly confident that he could easily strangle Layda, Petr needed both a cover story and an alibi of sorts. That's why, if you have been reading the newspapers and watching TV in recent weeks, you've probably noticed that three other relatively unknown ballerinas have been found strangled in their appartments after giving a performance on the night of their demise. All were from different parts of the country. All were blonde, green eyed, and 5' 6", just like Layda. All had felt Petr squeeze their last screams out of their long white necks after he asked them, once, if they'd like to be his lover.
It was 1:30AM when Petr rang Layda's doorbell several times. Finally she came to the door and he sensed that she looked through the security peep hole. After much impassioned discussion Layda relented and let him in.
Even in her groggy and slightly disheveled state Layda was a beautiful sight to behold. Without hesitating Petr grabbed the front collar of her stretch lace robe which was tied in front, and then roughly yanked it off of her shoulders just far enough so his action did not untie the robe. He then asked her that all important question while his hands were still on the collar just below her shoulders.
When Layda told him to get lost again, Petr's hands started to slowly glide up her shoulders while she ranted. It wasn't until his hands reached her graceful long neck that her speech became more tentative. Petr felt her warm windpipe rise against his thumbs when she paused and gave a startled gulp. He even let her draw one deep breath to scream. In the moment when Layda's mouth opened wide, Petr's hands tightened their grip on her neck to squeeze her shreik into a hoarse, gutteral sounding groan as her last breath began to escape her gaping mouth.
Her slender throat yielded to the pressure of his strong thumbs as Petr choked Layda. He savored very moment as he squeezed her incredibly soft windpipe, watching her suffer as her face turned blue and as her green eyes bulged wider in their sockets. Because her neck was so slender he was careful not to constrict the blood flow in ner neck arteries and just pressed on her porcelain throat. He was going to make sure she suffered to the end by being choked to death , and not pass out prematurely.
In vein she kept clawing at his wrists and hands to remove his stranglehold. She began to sag to her knees as he continued to choke her and shake her. He knew the end was near when her eyes started to fade and her arms flailed aimlessly almost touching the floor. When Layda went limp, her head fell back and her hands slapped the floor. Petr still had her suspended from has hands as if he wanted her to continue suffering, even in death.
He looked down at his thumbs which were still making deep flat indentations in Layda's soft round windpipe. He looked at her dead half open green eyes as they stared off toward the wall in front of him. He looked at her tongue which had slid slightly out of her gaping mouth. Now he was convinced that she had suffered enough and he slowly released her delicate neck. He watched her airborne body float to the floor through his open and still curled hands. Her legs scizzored while her buttocks and back temporarily supported her head before it, too, finally found its landing place on the floor. The motion was almost dancelike.
Petr's last image of Layda, before he left, was her peaceful creamy bare shoulders which seemed to contradict her brutally bruised throat which bore the marks of his personal agents of pain.
While Layda had given two performances tonight, one of which was her final curtain, Petr's work wasn't done. He still had to find one other "Layda" who was going to also give two performances in a future evening. Then his work would be completed, and it would be easier to avoid detection if the authorities believed that there was a serial killer giving ballerina's their final curtain. His alibi for tonight was a cancelled ticket for another performance given earlier in the evening in a very distant city, and where no one knew him except for the usher on whom Petr had carelessly spilled his wine during the intermission.