The Voice of a Killer

01

I look at the time on the dashboard, it reads 11:34. The party started 34 minutes ago, but at least that means everyone else should be here already. First frat party of the school year, and surprisingly I wasn't invited. Ferran was invited by a classmate, some Irish kid Matthew KcKane.

"You sure we shouldn't ask Matthew before we go up there?" I ask Ferran.

"He's passed out drunk, I think it'll be fine" he replied.

He puts his hands on my waist to help me stay vertical, doesn't help much considering he is one drink away from like Matt. We make our way to the stairs without problem, but these stairs don't want to stay still. Lifting each leg is a task, and I stumble three time on my way up. Matt's room is the first door on the right, right across from one of two bathrooms. From the top of the stairs, where I am, I think, I can hear someone throwing up in the bathroom. I few more steps and I'm in Matt's room. Just past the threshold of the door I trip over my own feet, I reach for the bookshelf that is right be the door. It doesn't help, I only remove some books.

I think Ferran helped me up, I made it to the bed. He's fumbling around with the buttons on his pants, seems like he can't wait. Once his own jeans are undone he helps me remove me shirt. His warm hands move back to my waist as he pulls me in and passionately kisses me. First on my lips then he moves down my neck, and further down stopping at my bra. His hands circle around to my back. He struggles to remove it, but stops right before he gets it.

"Shit!"

"What's wrong?" I question.

"I left my condom in the car, I'll be right back. Stay here."

He quickly buttons his pants and turns to leave. When the bedroom door opens I see another set of eyes, green eyes looking into the room, looking at my exposed breasts. His hand stops the door from closing. He walks in towards me. Quickly I grab my shirt from off the bed where Ferran tossed it. My hands can't find the arm holes of the shirt. He gets closer, he can almost reach out and touch me, but still I can't get my shirt back on. He pushes me back onto the bed.

"STOP IT!" I yell at him.

Why did I think I dumb college frat boy would listen to me. He grabs my boob, and I jump back and crawl away. Once off the bed I run to the door, but he is faster. Of course he is, he is built and probably used roids to get there. As I open the door his hand is on the door and slammed it closed. On the top of the bookshelf that I tried to use to stop me from falling earlier I see some textbooks piled up. On the top of the pile is a calc book. I grab it and swing at him, hopefully to slow him down.

His body falls back and hits the floor with a thud. Who does this asshole think he his? I bet he will wake up and not remember a thing. Maybe I should give him something to remember, maybe I could stop him from ever hurting anyone again. I lift the book up and force it back down on his face. He will never be able to get another girl in bed with him now. His face has caved in a little with that hit, maybe another just to be sure.

When I pick up the book after what I think was the forth hit, I noticed a red liquid pooling around his head, the same shade of red as his letterman jacket. Funny how nicely the colors match, I would like to see some more. And plus, he deserves it. Before I can bring it down on him again, the door behind me opens up.

"Hey hun, I got it—"