Breath Of A Murderer

Chapter 13 ~ Why

Lynne awoke, making her way to the room where Dakota's body was.

Flies swarmed around him already.

Eew.

She swatted at them, grabbing some gloves out of her drawer.

She slid them onto her hands, putting her hands on his throat.

Dragging his limp body off of the bed, she sighed at the dried blood on his chest.

"This one was really cute, too."

Lynne lived in the woods, so disposing of his body wouldn't be difficult.

She dragged it out the back door, and over bumps, rocks, and logs into the forest.

His body bumped along each stump, rock, and hole.

Lynne sighed heavily as she broke a sweat, dragging his about 143 pound body into the woods.

She wiped the sweat off her brow and continued to drag him.

About 10 minutes later, she was completely surrounded by trees.

She threw his body against a rock and covered it with leaves, leaving parts of his body sticking out, hoping that an animal would find him and eat him, getting rid of the evidence.

She made her way back to her house, kind of upset that her mind forced her to kill him.

She changed into a comfy band tee and some skinny jeans.

Bates padded up to her leg and wrapped his tail around it, purring loudly.

Lynne pet the soft cat and walked into the kitchen to his bowl.

"Here you go sweetie," She said as she poured food and water into each side of the bowl.

The cat meowed, as if to say "thank you" and then bowed its head and began eating.

Lynne made her way out of the house.

She received a call from her brother.

"Hey, Lynne I need you to come over."

"Why?"

"I have some..." He paused.

"... things I want you to do."

Lynne trembled slightly at his words, afraid to go.

"Oh, ah. I don't know if I can..."

She was interrupted by her brother's voice in a snap.

"You will come if I tell you to now get your ass over here."

Dread filled her body.

She was terrified.

She got into her car and started it, the revving of the engine calming her slightly.

She pulled out of her long driveway, onto a small back road in which she followed all the way to another long driveway that lead to a small house.

She pulled beside the jet black truck, putting her silver 1967 Chevrolet Impala in park.

She sighed, bracing herself for anything that might happen in his house.

He stormed out the front door before she could even get out of her car.

"Hurry the fuck up," he snapped at her.

She hurried out of the car, crossing her arms quickly.

"Why the hell are you covering yourself get the fuck inside," he shouted.

He grabbed the back of her shirt and shoved her, making her wince slightly.

She tried to walk faster than him, but he grabbed her arm and yanked her back, "Stay with me, idiot."

Tears stung her eyes, she was being forced to go inside.

She made it inside without letting a single tear drop.

Her brother grabbed her arm, yanking her towards him, his forehead pressed against hers.

"Michael please..."

"You're going to do whatever the fuck I tell you to," he shouted at her.

She held her tears back, fearing of what he'd do.

He grabbed her by the throat, pinning her against the wall, "Got it, punk?"

She let out a few tears, nodding softly.

"I can't hear you, rat!"

"Yes sir..." she cried.

He lightened the grip on her throat, bringing his other hand to caress her face.

"Your cheeks were always so soft..."

Tears fell down her freckled face.

"Quit crying you pathetic bitch!" He slapped her face, making a red mark.

She held back her tears, unable to get him to stop.

Michael kissed her freckles, then her ear.

She held in cries of help, knowings she'd get punished.

He made his way down her neck, kissing it softly.

She felt so wrong, so dirty.

She started to cry.

Lynne screamed for help, hoping someone would find her.

Michael punched her in the face, knocking her out.

He had his way with her.

And she couldn't do anything about it.