Story: The Zipper Killer Enjoys His Morning

Posted by Trevor on August 13, 2006 at 10:26:22:

In Reply to: Story: The Zipper Killer Enjoys His Morning posted by Trevor on August 13, 2006 at 10:05:42:

Story: The Zipper Killer Enjoys His Morning
by Trevor

The following is a work of fiction. If you're under the legal age in your country,
please leave here now without reading my story.

------------

The two students walked out of their dorm at American Idol Model Academy. They
stood outside, seeming to enjoy the cool morning.

Birds sang pleasantly. Pretty scents spiced the soft breeze.

I positioned my rifle. It was loaded with poisonous bullets; for the poison to
work properly, I had to put the bullet halfway between the narrowest part of my
target's waist and the lowest point of her vagina.

I examined the girls through the sniperscope.

Wearing just the right amount of makeup, both girls looked sophisticated, well-educated
and sharp.

Here's my impression of the first one.

Picture a tall 20-something chick. About six foot one inch tall. Ash-blond. She
has a figure like Ally Sheedy: slim, almost boyish. Friendly, hazel eyes. Expensive
earrings and brooch.

I love a tall babe in pants.

This one was wearing expensive charcoal-gray trousers of Italian fabric and polished
boots. Her shiny black belt with silver buckle highlighted her tiny waist. A light
pink elbow-sleeve sweater covered her sweet-looking breasts.

My crosshairs swung down, and centered on her zipper, halfway down from her belt.
My hands began to sweat and my heart skipped a beat. I squeezed the trigger.

She jumped as a small dark circle appeared on her zipper, then took a couple of
steps backward. She stared at the small circle on her belly, then down she flopped.

Lying on her side, she drew up her knees. The underside of her shapely, Italian-fabric-covered
ass faced me. She raised up on her elbow and seemed to be trying to see me. Her
mouth was open; her lower lip quivered.

The pain hit her and her face contorted; an arm jerked uncontrollably and her head
tilted back, stretching her fine pale throat. She slowly lowered herself to the
ground and was still.

While college girl #1 was dying, I took care of number two.

Mid-twenties, perhaps, she had dark brown eyes, long coal black hair. She was a
consummate Latin beauty with olive skin. In contrast to the small tits of my first
victim, she proudly sported a generous bust.

She wore tight blue jeans tucked into shiny boots with pointed toes. She wore no
belt. The sleeves of her embroidered, man-style, light-blue cotton shirt were rolled
up; her breasts strained for release.

The crosshairs of my scope found the right spot on her zipper. She jumped as the
poison bullet punched into her, then slowly fell to a kneeling position.

She leaned slightly forward, both hands pressed against her wounded belly. Her
head tilted to one side; her eyes closed.

When the pain hit her, her mouth and eyes snapped open. Tears welled from her eyes.

These eyes widened, rolled up and closed. Her hands swung by her side. She relaxed
and slowly toppled backward in death.

Feeling well satisfied, I left the scene as undetected as I had arrived. Only a
slight swirl of leaves marked my passing.

---------

Trevor