Danielle

Posted by Slasherdude on January 01, 2009 at 20:56:38:

Please tell me what you think.

He strode up the sandy beach, feeling the sun on his shoulders just like in the song and feeling happy. Without a care in the world, he ambled gracefully along the sound of the surf to his right and the sound of other people to his left. And up ahead was what he was looking for and that tight warm knot began to form just below his ribcage and spread out though he never changed his pace or his face. No one in the world could have seen what was in his mind just by looking at him and that made him feel powerful.
He swung his backpack over one tan and muscled shoulder and adjusted his straw hat so that it cast a band of shadow over his eyes. He was very aware that most people thought nothing of this but he thought it made him look nefarious. It was the one imperfection he left way out there for anyone to see like a taunt and of course no one ever did. All they saw was another beach bum or kid out from college and on spring break. It was, after all, that time of the year for that sort of thing and if the assumed so it was all the better. It made him feel infinately more powerful and higher up on the food chain.
But he didn't think of it in those terms. He glided through life as though it were a dream, one he could control to great effect. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he would be caught eventually and there would be hell to pay. It was like all those mystery novels his mother used to read which he'd never cared for. He was leaving a trail wherever he went. Maybe a careless fingerprint here or there, his hat was certainly distinct for this area and it would be another breadcrumb to follow. Any number of things, and while he was careful, he was not overly careful because the end of those novels was always the same and he knew it would be for him too. But that would be in the future, and the time was now. The time was always now.
A cute girl in a two-piece bathing suit turned to look his way and he appreciated her ample breasts, her long legs and sculpted ass. He especially appreciated the way her eyes rose and fell over his own person as her smile went just a bit crooked. Maybe he would try to hook up with her later. If not, no big loss. There were more of her everywhere. He passed her dismissively as he kept walking towards the houses, still smiling his secret smile.
They looked like they had been manufactured off an assembly line. They were identical in structure and screamed out rental. A few of them had bits of their occupant's personality imparted upon them and he inwardly sneered at this. It was as though they were inviting him inside and he wouldn't refuse the invitation. He looked up and marked the sun's position in the sky. He'd lay low inside one of these bungalows and wait. He was getting tired from walking but he had held no false pretenses that he would be unable to sleep, not while he was getting more wound up by the minute.
That knot of tension was still building, till he could almost feel himself vibrating like a cable that has been twisted too much. Full of energy and anticipation. He felt he couldn't wait but knew he would have to or the game would end here. Now. And that wouldn't be acceptable.
As an added bonus, he might even chance upon where the girl lived. And that would be... delicious.
He'd found early on that the trick to blending in was looking like you belonged, utterly and completely. Not so much attention would be paid to your attire or your accent as your confidence. People were wary by nature, the smart ones anyway, like some kind of leftover instinct hadn't been forced out of them by centuries of "civilzation." They were really no better than animals in his opinion and he didn't care if he did share the same genetics. Animals were meat, food, pleasure for the taking. For his taking. Because he was higher up on the food chain. And so his confidence was not entirely faked when he walked between two of the prefab structures. When he emerged on the walkway he did not look around to see if anyone was looking at him or if there were any police nearby or any other thing that might ruin his day.
Part of being dominant was being superior. He half closed his eyes and remembered their looks of shock and disbelief as he slid his knife in to the hilt. The pain in their eyes that went beyond the suffering their bodies were enduring. Their final words might have articulated their half formed thoughts, "Why did you do that? What did I do to you?" And for those with whom he'd been intimate with before he'd been brutal, "I can't believe you killed me. I loved you!"
There was no room for love in his life. Lust yes, that was simple and uncomplicated and he gave himself wholly to those urges when the opportunity presented itself. But love, the act of caring beyond his own needs and desires, was foreign to him. He didn't need reasons for taking life, the same way he didn't feel he needed anyone's permission to eat or breath. It gave him pleasure and that was enough. End of story. So he walked up the lane for all the world to see as though he belonged there though he had never seen this place before, doubted he knew any of the renters, and owned no property.
If asked, he would of course tell lies. There was no reason to spoil his fun by getting caught now. But no one asked him who he was because he really did look like he belonged to this place. And he was careful to pass by a retired couple sitting on their porch and keep walking till he was out of their sight and mind. And after about a half mile he came to what felt right to his highly tuned senses.
It was close to the end of the row and he saw why the row ended. The beach gave way to a rocky outcropping that was unsightly and unuseful. This was the end of the road so to speak. These ones might even be deserted but he didn't think so. It was the height of the good weather and he was sure every single one of these was rented. The trick was finding out the right one, the easy mark, the one that was delicious. Entering wasn't a problem as he reached into his backpack and palmed a set of lockpicks.
The first door he tried was unlocked and he slid the picks back to their place of concealment. Deeper in the pack was prize, a custom combat knife that had replaced the kitchen knife he set out with all those countless days ago. He had slit his mother's throat with that flimsy thing and the memory of it's weakness mirrored in her weakness to be snuffed out by such a mundane tool flooded back into his mind. He had been fortunate enough to come across what he considered a real blade in the house of one of his victims. She had been no fighter so it must have been her man, the one who had put the wedding band on her hand. He left the ring there; after all he did not do this for money. That would be below him. And he was grateful that he hadn't had to fight him to get to her. If the weapon was any measure of the man who gripped it, he would have probably died there. But he hadn't and he didn't dwell on what could have been. The fact that her husband might be mounting his own search effort didn't bother him at all. It made each kill thereafter more exhilirating.
He slid soundlessly inside, giving one last look at the sun and noted as the shadows which had first been short were now getting longer all around him. He'd have to look around quick and see if this was the place he wanted or if he'd have to move on. He closed the door but didn't latch it in case he had to leave quickly. He set down his backpack and moved the knife up on top of everything and left the main part unzippered, not taking it out yet but it was there if he needed it now. He slung the pack over his shoulder again and began a room by room search, first for people then for belongings.
It didn't take long, as the place was as deserted as that rocky part of the coastline just beyond it had been. He flicked the light on in the bathroom and started his search there first, it was usually a good indicator of the occupants. And time was short now so he'd want to be sure before he either stayed or moved on.
A grin that was totally predatory touched his face as he looked at the items scattered across the counter. Tampons, a blow dryer, body lotion. No hint of anything yet except women. He felt sure he wouldn't shy away now, even if he did find evidence of a husband or boyfriend. The world was his for the taking and no one had successfully told him otherwise yet. His adrenaline kicked up another notch and he felt the beginning of an erection beneath his shorts.
He moved on to the other rooms, there were only two of them, one on either side of the main hallway and he picked the left one first. He started going through the drawers and lifted out small silk panties, small enough to suggest that whoever lived on this side was very young, probably a teenager.
On the dresser were various framed pictures with one girl dominating all of them with her winning smile. It wasn't the girl he had seen on the beach but he felt no disappointment over that. He lifted up the one which looked like her high school graduation photo and drank in her beauty. Her hair looked as silky as her underwear and it fell over her shoulders, long and straight and blond. Hauntingly beautiful green eyes regarded him and her whole face beamed with happiness. He put the photo back down, imagining with great success the shock and pain that would creep into those eyes as her blood crept out of her body and he grew stiffer.
Here was another picture of her at a party, surrounded by other girls but none seemed as animated at her. She was toasting the camera with a glass of something that looked decidedly alcoholic. He was getting very warm now despite the departing warmth of the day and half hoped that she might surprise him right now.
Ice ran through his veins as his gaze wandered to the next picture in line. A boy about her age embraced her and they were in the middle of a deep kiss, with her hair half obscuring it as it fell between them. The boy looked fit and athletic and he immediately felt jealousy cool any emotion that he might have been feeling a moment before. His quarry was wearing a tank top and cutoff shorts. She had her hands on his shoulders almost as though she were about to push him away but he had one arm firmly encircling the small of her back and the other one gripping her ass.
"Nothing personal, bud," he whispered before putting the picture back. "But if you're here you'd better not get in my way." To complete the effect he put the frame face down and behind the others and in doing so he noticed the back of the frame had writing on it.

Remember me, Danielle! I love you! - Mitch

Danielle. Nice name. He moved onto the next room and found more designer underwear. In fact nothing in any of the drawers suggested that these two were anything more than vacationers. There was clothing for the beach, and for bed, and that was about it. He drew a mental picture of two college roomates or longtime friends out for some fun and relaxation between classes. It was that time of the year. He wondered if he would get to meet both of them and hoped he would because this occupant was a mystery. There were no photos on the dresser. She was bigger than her friend judging by he clothes but not by much. There was a slightly distinct difference in their tastes in styles he found intriguing.
It didn't take very long to decide who he would take first. He knew Danielle better than her mystery friend and made his way back to her room, remembering to lock the front door on his way over. Her closet had a folding door that accordioned back with vent like slats that did what? Allowed the clothes to breathe? Or just gave it a different look. He didn't know and it didn't matter. He had a vague memory of another killer doing exactly what he was in some movie he couldn't remember the name of at that moment. What he did remember was the camera perspective showing that once you were inside you could see out but were basically hidden.
He put the pack down inside and took out his knife. Black bladed, and very heavy and very very sharp. It bore the insignia of a craftsman he didn't know. He hefted it once, twice, loving the feel of it in his hands. He went through the motions of emerging through the closet, gripping a slender beautiful throat with his free hand and throwing her up against the wall as his dangerous hand came back with the lethal weapon then brought it forward, low, in the approximate area where he visualized her lower belly to be. It all had the look of an actor rehearsing an action scene.
There was more to savor when it was done slowly, like a feast where you take your time and sample every little morsel so you could decide which most piqued your interest when it came time for second helpings. But he had an idea that this would have to be done quickly. The track on which the door slid open and closed squeaked even when he was most careful and he wouldn't chance losing the element of surprise this time.
He would have preferred to fuck her first but as the authorities became aware of him little by little and might even now have a string of pins (you pick the color, he preferred the pins to be red in this recurring vision) marking the sites of his murders on a map, it was dangerous to take chances. Surely they knew he was heading north ever so slowly but surely and would put the word out. There would be no more sweet talking his way inside homes as he had done with the married woman whose husband's knife he had taken. There would be no more unhurried sex with these beautiful creatures in which they got almost as much out of it as he did. He didn't care if they got anything out of it but for the fact that it made them more real somehow. And the act itself was more sweeter that way.
And he wouldn't fuck a corpse either not out of any moral taboo but just because the one time he had tried it disgusted him. It was like fucking a doll.
So he brushed aside the clothes on the hangers and hid behind them the best he could, leaving just a small gap where he could see out through those slats in the door. He had a clear view of the bed and the door just beyond it that led out into the main hallway. He slid the door shut and waited. His excitement built and he grew immediately impatient but that steely resolve and discipline kept all this at bay. The only thing he could not or would not control at this point was the rise of his member which was now straining against the cloth of his shorts again.
It was not the promise of satiation of his desires, of death, or of lust that fueled this. It was power plain and simple. He was in their place now. Right in the heart of it. An unseen unwelcome intruder. But he didn't see it like that. No. This was his place now. And they were his meat and he would do whatever he pleased with them because that was how it worked.

After about two hours, enough time for the sky outside to go through all the changes of the sunset and then cease to give any light at all through the room's one window, he heard the rough sound of a key invading the lock of the front door. Two voices, both female, filled the silence with giggles and meaninglessly disconnected conversation.
"Oh I know right?"
"Just to die for!" And more giggles.
That last comment made him unconsciously bear his teeth in the wide smile of the hunter. Soon, hopefully soon now. He tried to imagine which voice belonged to Danielle and found he couldn't. Not a problem. He would see her soon enough. The sun was down and it was time to sleep. Except Danielle wouldn't be waking up in the morning.
The door to the room swung open and he reflexively closed his eyes before she turned on the light. He opened them slowly, willing them to adjust faster to the light. The time was very near. He now had trouble containing his excitement. His cock was throbbing as it were a seperate living entity. He angled the point of the knife down and braced himself against the wall behind him getting ready to spring out as soon as she opened the closed door wide enough.
Except she never came near the closet. She was more tan than in her photo but just as beautiful. All of her figure was evident as she was wearing a string bikini. The slow unenergetic movements contrasted the vibrant voices he had heard earlier. She plunked down a shopping bag as though it weighed a ton but couldn't have been very heavy. Now that she was alone, or so she thought, she felt free to express how she truely felt and that was bone tired. She untied the top part of her bikini and tossed it aside, letting her breasts escape confinement. They looked larger that way. She shed the bottoms like a snakeskin and he was graced with a view worthy of a playboy pictoral. She was completely hairless and it made her look even younger than she probly was.
After disrobing she detoured briefly to turn off the light and then feel her way back to the bed. She rolled over onto it with a lethargic enthusiasm and stretched out on her back in the moonlight. He didn't know love but still somehow appreciated this scene as well as any serious conisseur of art will appreciate masterpieces in a fine museum.
He waited even longer, feeling like a caged beast. When he was sure she was asleep he worked the door open, wincing each time she stirred at the sound of metal grating on metal. A hunter might have done the same thing if a prize deer began to pick up his scent. When there was a space of only a foot or so he squeezed through it and padded softly across the carpet and over to the edge of her bed. She still appeared to be sleeping and maybe this would be slow and good after all. There was a bottle of ether in his pack along with a cloth to apply it. He turned and headed back for it.
"You know, I heard you some time ago," a honey rich voice came from behind him. "How long have you been here anyway?"
He froze in midstep looking comically surprised. This had certainly never happened to him before and he felt genuine fear and confusion grip him for the first time since he had left home. For the moment he didn't feel like the hunter anymore, and wondered just who was, but it didn't last long. He hadn't come this far to be unnerved so easily. He belonged here and he acted like it.
"Oh awhile," he said casually, not knowing where this was going but confident that he could operate on an impromptu script. He left the ball in her court.
"Ohhhh I see," she cooed and slid off the bed. He kept in mind that her night vision was as good as his at this time. "You look like a wonderful birthday present. I guess Mel got you for me, huh?"
"Sure did," he said with a totally sure voice, though he didn't have a clue as to what he was agreeing to.
"Well let me get some light in here and take a good look at you," and she moved over towards the switch while at the same time he darted quickly back to his backpack and put the knife back in. When she saw where he was she squealed "Ohmygod! You were hiding? That's like too cool. Guess I spoiled the surprise."
She thought he was a... a what? A stripper? Or something like that. Yeah he could do that, "That's alright, ma'am."
"Well," she said, fairly leaping back onto the bed and assuming a lounging, relaxed position, "I won't hold you up anymore. So uh... where's the music?"
"Music," Uh oh. He could break her neck. At the first sign of her panic he thought he just might do that.
"Yeah, well at least take off your shirt," she ordered. "You new at this or something?"
He smiled a self conscious smile that belied the contempt underneath, "Yeah kinda, you're my second job," and immediately he wished he had said third or fourth. He obliged her by removing his white t-shirt. A cold hard calculating smile played on her face like she was angry and he could see her running a prima donna streak, and then saw him breaking her neck again. This maybe wouldn't be sweet at all, though there was always her roomate if she was still here.
That cold smile softened as though she were incapable of being bitchy and he was again taken in by her eyes, like rare emeralds. "Kay, now your pants," she said with a giggle.
He wasn't wearing any underwear and wonder if she knew that. As soon as the shorts hit the floor it was clear she hadn't anticipated that. Her mouth opened up and she sat on the edge of the bed staring at his hard on. She mouthed something that might have been oh my or oh god or oh wow. The only part he was sure about was when her mouth formed a perfect circle and then he thought of something else.
He laced his hands behind his head as though he were about to be arrested and then started swinging his hips back and forth, slowly, then faster. It appeared to be just what she wanted. That winning smile touched her face again, though there was nothing innocent looking about it now. She began to stroke herself and at this he slowed down, almost stopping.
Dismay clouded her face and she blushed a bit. "You don't mind, do you," she asked and there was something undeniably schoolgirlish in her blushing and asking his permission.
He continued on without stopping again, "Nope, not at all"
This ritual continued on and on until he got impatient with it. If he was going to do something the time was now. It was always now. He began to work towards her and by this time she was getting her own hips moving as she stared at him mesmerized. He took her by the shoulders and gently but firmly hoisted her to her feet where she swayed unsteadily.
"You know, dancing isn't the only thing I do well," he suggested and drew her towards him. She stared uncomprehendingly at him for a moment though he knew she knew exactly what he was talking about. He remembered the picture of her kissing Mitch and how she looked like she almost didn't want to. He smiled his secret smile.
After a moment a crooked smile he had seen earlier but on another face greeted his own and she said, "Good."
He was a few inches taller than she was and as the gap between them closed she looked up at him to stare into his eyes. Then she rested her head on his shoulder. Her breath came out in a warm seductive sigh against his skin and he felt her heart beating close to his own. He laid her on the bed gently and realized she was being totally submissive. He would be able to do just about anything to her. After he was done feeding this hunger and fufilling her fantasy, he would fufill one of his own.
He parted her legs and as he loomed over her she wrapped them around his back. He slid inside her while she moaned softly and pumped his hips slowly, building an increasing rythm as she matched him. When he sensed she was about to climax he kissed her, but only to keep her from screaming out loud. Somewhere through this she had put her arms around him and now her her small neat nails dug into his back. They both came together and at that moment he felt like he was someone else from a long time ago. Someone who could fall in love and give as well as take. But he hadn't been that person for some time now. And if he tried to take it further than this, it would be unwise in more ways than one.
He rolled off her and they both lay panting side by side. She snuggled in close and he had the urge to push her away, but didn't. He waited until she was asleep and then eased out of her grip and walked back to his bag in the closet. He took out the knife and looked over his shoulder. The blonde was reaching for the empty space where he had been and it struck him not as romantic but as fatalistic.
She was still sleeping but not quite as deeply. Stealthily, he crept up behind her and put the knife about a foot off to the side of her on the mattress. Then he rolled her over and woke her up. She mumbled incoherently at first then asked, "What's your name? Did you tell me it? I know it sounds strange but I'd like to know."
"I'm Jim. Pleased to meet you," He said and caressed her thigh, savoring it one last time, though she took the action to mean something else.
"Oh god, I don't know if I can go again after that," she lamented and her eyes looked as weary as her voice sounded. But that sly smile worked over her mouth again and said she was more than willing to try.
"Don't worry," he said. "You won't have to."
She seemed to hear him as saying something else then the coldness in his voice hit her like a physical blow and she knew something was wrong. Before she could think things over and perhaps realize she was truly in danger, he was on top of her, pinning her to the bed with his weight with one hand pressing with bruising force over her mouth. In his other hand he held something else but she wasn't sure what it was.

And then she remembered. Shortly after they checked in at the rental office they had been handed a flyer saying to watch out for any suspicious persons, to keep the doors locked and take other various precautions. She hadn't really paid any attention but Mel had taken what she thought was an almost morbid interest in it. She asked alot of questions and seemed to make the clerk very uneasy and nervous.
"No Miss, that sort of thing doesn't happen over here. We're required to hand these flyers out by the sherrif's department. I'm not really sure Miss. No not at all! We've never had anything like that happen! They've occurred down south a bit yes but we're very secure up here..." And so on and so forth. His assurances were good enough for her. This was their third time out here on break. They always came here because it was a compromise. It was fun, which Danielle liked, but not too much fun, which Melissa preferred. Danielle sometimes thought her dear old friend was just an old maid trapped in a really hot body.
She tried to think back to the self defense classes she had taken but as she felt the prick of cold sharp metal on her belly just below her navel she knew that the time for that had passed. Her scream was almost completely muted by the strong uncompromising hand over her mouth. And she felt a strange sensation wash over her that she had never felt before. It was draining and seductive in its own right. If she had the time to contemplate she might have called that sensation doom.

He slowly built the pressure behind the lethal instrument taking a surgeon's care not to rush. Despite this, the point broke through a short time later and he felt a loud grunt try to escape from under his hand. All the while he was looking into her eyes, which were now pinched shut. Her flailing which had begun in earnest as though she thought this were all a bad dream she would wake up from, now intensified. He let two inches of the steel slip in and fancied he heard it tearing through her muscle wall. Her whole body spasmed for a moment and he was reminded of how much this was like the act they had performed only a little earlier.
As the rest of the knife went in she started to relax, though he knew she was a long way from dying. She was simply surrendering now. He took his hand off her mouth and a long sexy exhale escaped. He rolled off her for the second time and her hands flew to the knife but as soon as they disturbed it she let out a pained noise and let go of it. She caressed the area around the wound the way you would carelessly rub a scraped knee or other minor injury. Instead of helping this too hurt her and her back arched. Watching this, he came for the second time.
During all of this, the duration of which was less than five minutes, her eyes remained squeezed shut. She appeared to be concentrating very hard on some almost impossible dilemma. And perhaps she was. When she did open them there was that look of disbelief and pain he fed off of like nectar. Satisfied that she was now going into shock and wouldn't scream out, he left her side and flicked on the light. It blinded both of them and when his vision settled he saw she was trying to speak, but not very successfully. After a series of gasps and squeaks, she gave up trying to articulate the words and mouthed them instead. What she said might have been oh my or oh god or oh wow but he couldn't tell. He wasn't any good at reading lips.
"Sure babe, whatever you say," and this seemed to hurt her more than the knife. Tears welled up in her eyes but before they could trickle out she passed from consciousness. He removed the knife with some difficulty. She twitched while he worked the blade and when he freed it he used the edge to open her throat just to be sure. Her last thought as she slipped into the blackness was that she wondered what Mel had really gotten her for her birthday.