Sleeping With A Serial Killer

PROLOGUE

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Serial killers are psychopaths.

But people who sleep with them are Psycho-Gods.

My name is Kiara Grantt, eighteen years old and I am sleeping with a serial killer. My man kills for fun, for satisfaction, for pleasure. He's currently twenty five years old and his first kill happened when he was fourteen.

He looks innocent and delicate, he is the kind of man you will wish to marry. Handsome? Check. Hot? Double check. Sexy? Unlimited check. He is the type of guy that you will drag over the bed and ride remorselessly.

But also the person you will fear to death. He can make you feel the luckiest girl in the world, and suddenly the most famous murder victim.

That is how we met. I became his victim and I almost die.

He was hired as part-time teacher in my school, he's really intelligent and good at pretending to be normal with his charm and being the gentlemen. One evening, he offered me a ride home with his black Toyota Auris and I thought I was very lucky to have the opportunity. After a while, I suddenly felt dizzy. Seems like there's something with the air condition of his car, until I drowse off.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a cellar. A smell of rotting flesh and blood greets my nostril, I want to puke but there was a duct tape on my mouth and my hands and feet were tied in an old-rusting chair.

My heart leap a beat when the metal door slammed open, revealing a man who's wearing an anonymous mask. He stared at me for brief moment, I can't see his eyes, all was there were the dark hollows of the mask.

My gaze fell on his hands and I realized that he's pulling a large garbage bag. He moved quickly and marched down the stairs, dragging the poor bag with him. He threw the bag inwards and it landed just in front of me, for a second I thought it'll hit me and somehow breaks the chair.

The force caused it to rip open, the first thing I noticed was a hand covered with crimson blood. I wanted to shout but the tape muffled my voice, I tried to struggle off the rope but it's all useless. My body was shaking. The man grabbed a black bag used to dispose off dead bodies, and guess I was right. He removed the corpse from the garbage bag and carefully put her inside the new one.

I was crying silently as I watch the poor girl about my age, her throat was slit open, blood were still dripping from the large wound. Her eyes were wide open and seemed to stare at me, lifeless and void.

I was doing my best effort to make any noise, to at least move the chair but it was nailed on the floor. The man was still ignoring me, like I wasn't there in the first place. He's focus on scrubbing the floor until it was clean again, he grabbed the bag and goes out of the room.

Believe me I tried every crazy possible ways to escape but I failed. The next day, the same man came back. He untied me from the chair and finally he spoke... I won't forget those words he said.

"You have ten seconds to run."

I was given that opportunity to escape my death. To flee away, but I didn't.

I recognized his voice,

"Mr. Matthews?" I managed a faint whisper.

He removed his mask and I was right again. The charming professor, but that day he's nothing more than a mad, serial killer. He is the culprit behind the missing teenagers in the town. And even I, didn't suspect anything with regards this man.

"Ten seconds is over Miss Grantt," then he raised a knife in the air.

My heart was pounding hard against my chest, I am about to die and my feet were frozen on the spot. My brain wasn't functioning very well because the person I admire the most, the man of my early fantasies... Is the murderer of Riverpond Village.

I closed my eyes and was ready to accept the stab, until I felt my muscles again. But instead of running, I took a slow step forward until I am already face to face with him. The knife was pointed on my neck, another movement and I'm dead.

I raised a trembling hand and traced a finger across his jawline. The fear was too dominating, I think it already swallowed me whole and there was nothing left but to take a risk. Before I knew it, my feet tip toed and arms wrapped loosely around his neck and then I kissed him.

Deep and passionate kiss, my tears continued to fall on the ground. After what it seems like forever, where my heart almost stop beating, he finally responds to my kiss. He smelt good, surprisingly. The scent makes me forget that he is a psycho.

His big hand cupped the back of my head and pulled me closer to him, I could see hunger in those navy blue eyes, and they're very gorgeous. It turns me on.

I heard a loud clanking noise on the floor, he loosen grip on the knife as he briskly pushed me onto the wall. He slammed me hard that I thought I broke a spine, I decided to ignore it since it was easily replaced by pleasure. His tongue parted my lips and started to explore my mouth, he ripped open my shirt and torn my bra. His hand roughly cupped my breast while the other one undid my pants.

Then it happened. I had sex with a serial killer, and it saved my life.

There was something more I realized after that day, I didn't just do it for the sake of my life, but because I love him... I love my abductor.

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How's it? I know this is kinda mad. But that's what I've planned for it so I hope you liked it!

Comments and vote will be highly appreciated.