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An international affair with a stranger.
There was a bit of a chill in the air for the heat was set on very low. The moon was high in the sky and the light filtered through the muted green curtains that covered the only window in the room. She could only see through one eye, for her other eye was shut and swollen from the punch she was given. She rolled her head side to side, and even though there was only a small desk lamp next to her on the bedside table, and no other light source, she could see the interior of the room quite well. She was not alone, for her former boyfriend was standing in front of a dresser and looking into a mirror. He too was naked, and his penis was quite hard. It was of adequate length and would have done the job quite well to bring her to peak, but now it would be a tool of destruction. He glanced at her through the mirror and smiled.
"I see you are awake. Good, I can't wait for us to begin. All the others seemed to enjoy it, or so they exclaimed when I rammed into them, and made them tell me how much they wanted me and loved me." His smile was a sick one and his bloodshot hazel eyes were a bit glazed over for he had just finished a joint that was placed in a glass ashtray next to him.
She heard a crinkling sound as he moved over to a suitcase that had been placed on a chair near the closet. The ground was covered in a tarp; the type that painters used so no drops would fall onto the carpet. He would make sure her blood did not stain the carpet. Every other of his victim's blood didn't touch that carpet, only the cheap $9.99 white K-Mart sheets he had bought for an occasion such as this.
He hummed an old Frank Sinatra tune under his breath as he opened the suitcase and began to choose his tools to use on her. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her try to break her bonds. He gave a small chuckle, for no matter how hard she tried to break the ropes, he knew she wouldn't.
"Try all you want, my dear, but those ropes won't break no matter how hard you try, well, unless you have superhuman strength, which I don't think you do." He spoke over his shoulder.
He was annoyed. These dumb bitches always acted the same. The crying, the screaming and the squirming as he used his eight inch carving knife to fuck them hard. First he would use his cock and then the knife. The blood would flow and he would bathe in it while he bit off one of the nipples, his favorite nighttime snack. One for now; the other for later.
But the poor fool had no idea that she was not like the other dumb bitches as he thought. For, when he was ready to start his game, he heard a snap. Before he could turn, he was pushed head first against the closet door, the knife slipping out of his hand to the ground. Paul was held immobile, his head grinded into the wood. He tried to scream. But he couldn't, for his mouth began to fill with blood, as a few of his teeth had shattered.
The thing that held him rubbed up against his back and gave a small cackle in his ear. A tongue swiped across his shoulder and then a mouth against his neck.
"My dear man, you thought I was like all the others, a foolish young thing who fell for your promises of love and devotion. You are not the first to have offered that and not the last. But for you, this will be the last."
He was quickly pulled around and faced a horror unlike anything he had ever seen. It was a huge gaping mouth with enlarged teeth, much longer than his own eight-inch carving knife, and eyes that glowed as red as blood. The mouth was so large that it could eat his head whole. The monster did not go for his head, but instead, as quick as could be, dropped and bit down on her victim where his most precious tool lay, now limp. He screamed in agony and would continue to do so late into the night till he was devoured whole.
The next morning was a dreary one for a thunderstorm had arrived in the area.