As I'd expected, Sandy was alone in the house when I arrived; I entered quietly, through the front door, which she'd left unlocked. I found her waiting for me in the back bedroom. I was surprised to find that she'd stripped herself completely naked--never in the months we'd been seeing each other had she greeted me this way--but I surely wasn't about to object. She was a truly lovely girl, her hair long and dark, her face innocent and charming, her legs long, her hips ample, her breasts shapely and large but not excessive. Sitting on the edge of a carefully-made bed, she stared at me as I came in, her eyes wide.
"Hi, Matt," she said, her voice very tiny, very tentative. She stood up, stood near the bed's headboard. She seemed nervous, she acted as if she didn't know what to do with her hands.
I crossed the room toward her; she shrank back a little, pressing herself against the wall. "What's the matter with you?" I asked her.
"I knew what you meant, on the phone," she told me. "What you meant when you said it was time..."
Smiling, I edged closer to her. "You did? What'd I mean, then?"
She bit her lower lip. "You meant," she said, her voice so soft I had to listen carefully to catch her words, "that you were going to kill me today," she replied. Her eyes grew moist; her words caught in her throat. "I guess I always knew you would, sooner or later," she went on. "It's just the way you are, Matt. You didn't change in prison--I knew that, even when you were still inside."
"But you helped me--you helped me get out. You've stayed with me--"
She sobbed once, then pulled herself up straight. "Yes. I know. Crazy, isn't it? The problem was-- is--I love you--"
Emotions were boiling around inside me; most of them were familiar to me but some were not. In my time I'd already killed several women, and I'd never killed a woman I didn't like.
But Sandy was different. Sandy I more than liked. "I'm sorry," I said, hoping she'd find some way to understand the demons that drove me. "I have to do it, I just have to. It's because I love you, don't you see? I'm sorry, I have to..."
She shook her head sadly. "You don't have to be sorry, Matt, you really don't. It isn't your fault, I made all the choices, I knew what I was doing--you can't help the sort of man you are and, to tell you the truth, I think that added to it for me--the danger, being with a man who'd been convicted of killing his lover." She shrugged. Anyway, that's why I'm here, that's why I didn't run away. I'm here, I'm here for you, you can do whatever you want with me." She looked at me without speaking for a long moment. "How're you going to do it? Are you going to shoot me?"
"No. I always use a knife."
"A knife," she sighed. "A knife, of course..." She shook her head and smiled. "Silly question to ask, I know you use a knife..." Stepping forward boldly, she wrapped her arms around me and laid her head on my shoulder. "Tell me what you're going to do," she asked. "Tell me what you're going to do to me."
I put an arm around her back. "I'm going to stab you," I told her in an excited whisper. Reaching up, I squeezed her left breast and teased the nipple; it grew erect under my thumb. "Through your breast--right through your breast and into your heart."
She shuddered and lowered her eyes. "You won't... hurt me much?"
"No. It'll be quick." I raised her head and looked at her face. "Sandy, why were you waiting for me naked?" I asked her.
She smiled again. "I was sure you'd want me this way," she answered. "I know you need this, Matt..." Her expression became serious, and she looked from one of my eyes to the other. "Matt, listen to me... that other woman you killed, you stabbed her several times and the first few weren't fatal... Matt, if you need to do that to me, then do it... I'm giving up my life for you, I want it to be good for you..."
"It will be." I kissed her lovingly; she kissed me back, and I spent several minutes caressing her bare body. "It will be... I don't need to torture you like that, I just need to watch you die..."
She nodded and pulled away from me again. I drew out my knife. She stared at it, the fear in her eyes more than obvious. "Go ahead and do it, then," she told me, her voice trembling a little. "Kill me, watch me die." In spite of her words she shrank from me a little.
I moved closer to her. "Let me do this right," I said.
Her eyes grew moist. "Okay," she agreed. "I'll do whatever you want me to..."
"Good. Now: raise your arms, hold onto your hair." She did as I asked, leaning back a little further and cocking her right leg as well. Her belly was thrust out a little and I was gravely tempted, but I concentrated on her breast instead. I raised my knife and moved it slowly toward her body. Wide-eyed, she watched it come, she watched the point touch her breast just outside and below her nipple. Angling the blade toward the center of her body, I pressed it in a little; she still didn't move or speak. Moving my eyes between her face and the blade, I pressed harder, working the tip into her skin. She gave a tiny gasp as the first little trickle of blood appeared. We both watched it trace its way down over the curve of her breast and race down her abdomen.
She glanced up at me. "You like that, Matt?"
"Yes," I sighed. "Yes, yes..."
"Does it turn you on? Does it?"
"Yes..." My pants were sticking out rigidly in front, and she hadn't failed to notice.
"Then you'll... use my body... afterwards?"
"Yes..."
She gave me a wan little smile and actually leaned into the knife a bit. "I'm as ready right now as I'll ever be..." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I love you," she told me. "No matter what you do to me, I'll always love you..." She sobbed a few times. "Go ahead, Matt. Kill me if that's what you need to do, if that's what you want..."
I smiled back. "You're wonderful," I whispered. "I do love you, I do..." Then, with a quick little motion, I pierced her more deeply with the blade, pushing a couple of inches of the shiny steel into her breast--but stopping before it entered her chest. She didn't cry out, she didn't even gasp, she merely closed her eyes softly. I stopped there for a moment, the blade inside her lovely breast and just into the muscles of her chest, poised close to her heart. I watched the blood trickle down; still she didn't move. I felt a thickness in my own chest, a lump in my throat.
Then I leaned into it. I felt the whole blade slip slowly and quietly into her chest, all the way to the hilt.
Blood erupted, spilling down her side; she shuddered and moaned a little. I twisted the blade; she
gasped loudly, went stiff, and started sliding down the wall, staring at my face as she sank slowly
down. When I jerked the blade out, enormous gouts of dark blood spurted from the wound,
splattering my chest. I knelt beside her quickly, took her face in my hands, and kissed her again; her
eyes soft, she kissed me back. But I'd pierced her warm and loving heart, and, while I was kissing her,
I felt her life slip away.