I kissed Stephie's neck as lay next to her on my small leather couch.
I knew she'd be leaving soon. But I didn't want her to go, I couldn't loose her again.
She giggled, her laugh sounding more beautiful than summer rain, and she smiled at me, her smile more brilliant than any star ever to fall from the sky.
She was perfect. She was Stephanie.
"Do you want to do this on your bed or what?"
It was her voice, but those weren't her words.
I watched as she faded in my arms, turned from my gorgeous girlfriend to the common whore I'd picked up at the stupid club.
I was livid and my purpose became clear again. To kill this girl.
"Of course." I said, faking a small smile, as I picked her up and carried her to my bedroom.
I threw her down on my circular shaped bed. She laughed excitedly.
"So you want to be on top then?"
I didn't answer Ashley. Just threw my body on the bed, almost over hers, and began to rip off her dress, carefully placing her belt where I'd be able to access it later.
"You sure have fast hands now don't you?" She winked at me.
"You could say so."
Then I made my move, whipping a tissue drenched in chloroform out of my pocket and smothering her face with it until she passed out cold.
I threw her passed out, naked, body, over my shoulder, and carried her to the basement. There I carefully handcuffed her to the clean, silver, table in the middle of the dark room.
I sat down on a wooden stool, and then I waited for about an hour for her eyes to flutter open so I could have the pleasure of closing them again.
When she did finally wake up she let out a disturbing screech. It was the kind of noise that makes the devil himself shudder with disgust and horror.
I smiled a wide, dark, smile. Thank goodness I had the walls sound proofed.
"Glad to see you awake, you sleep well?"
"Let me goo!" She howled like wounded animal.
She began sobbing so dramatically the entire table shook along with her body.
I eyed the long knife I had hanging from a hook and immediately grabbed it.
"Oh God no...oh God help me..." She yelled through her dramatic crying.
I began to crudely cut off her hair, strand by strand, in an uneven zig-zagging fashion, as I watched it slowly become shorter I couldn't help but notice how much it freaked her out, it was still long so I didn't know why she was whining, it was just shorter.
When I finished I stepped back to admire my work with a critical gaze.
She screamed again. It was beginning to make me horribly upset. I mean, usually I actually have to hurt the girls first before they start screaming like that.
She wouldn't last long.
I whipped around at the sound of the sweet voice.
"Stephie, Stephie are you there?"