This book is a collaborative series of dark one-shots by myself, tenpointsav, and buckyndean (Go follow them!). Just the little ideas that pour out of our twisted gremlin brains and make it onto a page.
These stories are NOT for the faint of heart...
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CW: Murder, gun violence, elements of non-con and dubcon, slapping, gun kink, knife kink, choking, spit kink, inappropriate use of bodily fluids, bondage, overstimulation, oral sex, face slapping, rough smut.
This was such a fun collab with @tenpointsav and @buckyndean <3 Go and follow them if you aren't already because they're both fantastic writers! Please remember that the three of us wrote this together and they deserve all of the praise for being talented as fuck!
Please remember that this is dark and for readers 18+.
The clock on the wall grated on Sofia's nerves with every tick, night creeping in more and more with each pass of the hand. She groaned, shifting in her somewhat cushy office chair while her boss sat in an emergency meeting. He'd called Sofia last minute, demanding her presence only to leave her in the fucking hallway. Asshole.
Sofia sighed and checked her phone. Maybe she should text him. It had been almost an hour. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw NO SIGNAL on her phone. She frowned as the clock continued to tick, the hands almost grinding now. Louder and louder. Dread crept in and she glanced at the door.
It had been quiet in his office for a while.
Suddenly, she wanted to be anywhere but here.
She got to her feet and headed for his office, knocking gently three times. The sound echoed ominously through the hall, sending a chill down her spine. When there was no response to her knocks again, she pushed the door open slowly, silent over the carpeted floor. Sofia stuck her head in, her gaze sweeping through quickly, bouncing around before landing on a man behind the desk, mostly hidden in shadow. Her shoulders relaxed and she stepped through the opening, nudging it open further before it was suddenly stopped by something.
Glancing down, Sofia frowned when she saw a pair of dark leather shoes, leading up to a dark suit, and the pale face of the senator. She tried to scream but her throat closed in fear, the sound dying as she turned back to look at the man behind the desk. He was leaned back in the chair, shadows covering everything but his eyes, dark even with their icy blue hue.
Sofia dared to look again at her feet, to the lifeless body of the man below. His throat was slit and eyes bulged, blood pooled and touching the tips of her black heels.
"Fuck," she whimpered, "What the fuck?"
Stumbling back, the door pressed closed behind her as her body hit the heavy oak. Her mouth went dry and there was a pounding in her ears, her eyes returning to the occupied chair.
Someone sat in her employer's place, broad shouldered and barely lit by the street lamp outside. No flicker of fear, no reaction whatsoever in their - no, his body or his face.
Or what she could see of it.
Dark hair framed his face, most of which was covered by a black mask and shadow. But she could see soft smatters of blood on his skin, some of it dripping from the base of the mask and down his throat.
