Source: deviant art.com
He showed her, though, in the end. He showed her who was in charge.
The knife went in quiet, and she tried to bite his hand over her mouth, but he twisted the knife, and her mouth popped open, and a large spurt of blood came out, so she couldn’t bite him, and she couldn’t scream.
And now he was out of a meal ticket.
Had he ever loved her?
If he did, it had been in a haze of drug-induced lust, most likely. He didn’t remember much of anything.
He was hungry now, in the diner; her body was in an alley, covered in trash, for some poor bum to find. They might screw her, or loot her, or both. It didn’t matter to him now, but there were sick fuckers in this town, and at any given moment, you could run into one.
He remembered the sadness in her eyes when she slumped, looking at him, almost in pity. Here she was the one dying, and she was giving him pity; he shoulda stabbed her in the eyes.
Shut the voices up; you’re gonna give yourself away, you idiot!
The voices went away. He heard them more often now, but they hadn’t taken him away yet.
They were slowly climbing over the fence though, one by one by one.
She looked out of place in the city’s dirt, walking in off the street; a knockout, gorgeous, and totally out of his league, a goddess manifest.
Always try, his dad used to tell him. Women are easier than you think. They wanna change you, or control you. You blow some smoke at ‘em that says you want them to do either, you hooked ‘em. How I got your mom, doing that, then she found out who was in charge. That first slap always surprises them, and they think they still got a chance, but they don’t.
You gotta show em, day one they commit, who’s in charge.
She was at the counter, but she was looking at him out of the corner of her eye. Either she thought he was some criminal animal, or she was checking him out as a mark.
Well, he wasn’t either one, but he could play it if she wanted. Then he’d show her…
She was going to sit at the counter.
“Hey sweetheart, how about some company?”
She turned on the stool and gave him the once-over, her gaze cool. Her eyes had something funny going on, but he wasn’t freaked out by it. Lots of crazy fucks in this town, didn’t matter what, male or female, or whatever these days.
She had on tight jeans, a white shirt, and a black leather jacket against the night chill. Some kinda generic shoes on her feet, not open toed. She wasn’t trying to call attention to herself, but she was still gorgeous.
She shrugged. “I’ll be over here, Janis.”
Janis looked over; she’d seen him here before, and marked him for what he was. Looked like she wanted to piss on him, he was so worthless.
One day, he might show her too, but not now.
He couldn’t believe this girl was coming over. Maybe she can replace Judy Deadbeat.
“Hey,” she said. “How’s it going?”
“Up til a minute ago, it wasn’t going nowhere.”
She giggled. “So where’s it going now?”
“Back to my place.” That was risky, but his dad always told him…
“Hm.” She didn’t look freaked out by that, so that was something. “Maybe.”
She smiled. Gorgeous. “Yeah, maybe.”
“I’m up for a challenge.”
She smiled, but said nothing.
Janis brought out the food, gave him another ‘piss-on-you’ look, and walked off.
“She don’t like me.”
“I don’t know. I don’t care. I care that you like me.”
She gave him that smile again. “Maybe.”
He laughed, and they ate, and flirted, and she got him worked up…
Jyan had taken good care of her body; it was toned and strong, and the reaper used it now to her advantage.
She was all over him, but his jacket was around his arms, and he couldn’t move them.
He kept trying to shrug out of it, but she kept doing stuff, kept pushing him back into the wall, kissing his lips off, almost smothering him.
“What’s your name?” he huffed, just to get her mouth off his for a second so he could breathe.
“Fia,” she said, nipping his earlobe. “Does it matter?”
“No, just wanted to…Fia, I gotta get outta my jacket.”
She was undoing his belt, and pushed him back against the wall, keeping his arms pinned,
He began to freak out a bit now.
“Let me get…” She forced her tongue in his mouth, and he tried to put his hands on her shoulders, but she tugged his jacket down and pushed him again.
“What are you, fuckin crazy? You one of these fuckin nutjobs?”
“Don’t you like it, baby?”
“No,” he said, turning his head from her questing mouth. “You’re a psycho. Let me go.”
She let up, looked at him, both of them breathing heavy.
He started to adjust his clothes, when she pushed him back against the wall again, and stepped in close.
“Who’s Judy Deadbeat?”
He froze. “What did you say?”
“You killed her. You killed Judy. You called her Judy Deadbeat, cuz she walked out on you, stopped making money for you to kill yourself.”
He tried to move his arms again, and those funny eyes of hers did something shiny, and he couldn’t move them anymore.
“Who are you, lady? You a cop, Fia. That it?” He kept trying to put her in context, but she kept eluding it. He was off-balance and beginning to panic.
She laughed, low in her throat, and it would’ve been sexy and turned him on if she wasn’t a psycho.
“You think I’m a do-gooder? Do I look like a do-gooder?”
He broke out in a sweat; her eyes were starting to glow, and he didn’t know if that was because of the drugs he took, or they were really doing it.
She came in close again, and her eyes grew brighter, and a sound came from him.
“You should’ve been nicer to Judy. She loved you, you know. She did everything you asked. She did everyone you asked her to do, and the whole time they were pumping her, pumping her full of chemicals, pumping her with their rancid manhood, she was thinking of you to detach herself.
“She cried sometimes, when they played too rough, and she needed you, but you did nothing to protect her. You said nothing when she told you.”
Her hand slipped inside his fly, wrapped around him, and stroked him.
“What do you think I should do, for you not protecting her?”
He stammered. “L-look, if you’re family, okay, she never told me she had anyone, okay? She told me there was nobody, that it was just me and her, okay?”
She put a finger to his lips. “Okay.”
Her hand was getting hot, and he began thrashing.
Her finger on his lips was glowing. What the fuck?! His lips were now dry and cracked, and starting to blister.
“L-l-look, I’m sorry, okay? I was just…I needed…Agh! Stop!”
She was burning him slow, her hand still moving, and he could feel the warmth of his blood soaking it.
Her finger went into his mouth, and he tried to bite down, but she was running her nail along the inside of his cheek, and he saw tiny sparks pop through the skin and fly up; she burned a hole in his cheek.
The pain hit him, and he almost passed out, but she was stopping it; he didn’t know how he knew that, but he did, as sure as he knew he was about to die.
Helpless and pinned, he moaned in agony. "I'm sorry...Judy, Fia, please stop."
She ran her lips along his neck and singed his skin.
Pulling back as he sagged against the wall, she gripped him by the hair and hauled him up, and smiled that gorgeous killer smile.
“Oh, lover, I'm in charge now,” she gave him that sexy, psycho laugh again, “and I'm just getting started…”