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.

"Shut up."

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?"


This usually happened. She always tried to stop me. I always got to see her.

"Kyle...don't do this..."

"I have to!" I screamed back to the ghostly whisper, turning in circles around the room to try and catch a glimpse of the beautiful face it belonged to.

Ashley made another grizzly noise. She was horrified.

I turned slowly to face her.

"You think I'm crazy don't you?"

She quickly shook her head.

I took the knife and cut a long gash in her forearm. She let out a long whimper.

"Don't lie to me, be honest. Do you think I'm crazy?" I asked again, my voice becoming louder than before.

This time she nodded, bobbing her head up and down like a piece of garbage being tossed around by a raging sea.

I grinned putting the knife back on it's hook. "See what happens when we're honest with each other?"

She nodded once more.

"Now, tell me you're story and I'll tell you mine."

"My...my name is..is Ashley Hansen. I-I'm 22 years-old and I work as a...a..." She paused inhaling deeply with fear, as black streaks from where her heavy makeup had smeared became more and more prominent on her gentle pale face.

"Continue!" I barked.

I watched as she shuddered and began to speak again, "I-I work as secretary for a make-up company..."

  "A big one?"

"C-Cover girl...the base in L.A."

She had an important job, and was in an important position.

I grabbed her phone from under her clothes.

"Calm yourself, call your boss, tell her your mother's sick and you have to take a few days off to take care of her. If you don't have a mother say your father. If you don't do it, if you cry, if you scream, I will not hesitate to kill you. The longer you obey me the longer you live," I paused to lick my lips, "now dial."

I held out the phone for her, observing carefully as she awkwardly grabbed it with a constricted hand, then I quickly hurried to retrieve a pistol from my toolbox on the other side of the small basement.  

I walked back towards her with the gun aimed at her neck.

"You calling yet?"


"Put it on speaker phone."

She clicked her touch screen with a trembling, manicured finger.





"Hi Mrs. Herring, it's Ashley, I was just calling to inform you that my mother's horribly sick and I have to take a couple of days out to take care of her." Ashley's voice was calm, normal, and although it was a little bit too played down for my liking, her boss obviously bought it.

"Oh. Well take as much time you need. I hope she feels better, mind if we have Angela fill in for you?"

"Not at all."

"Okay, well have a great day, and God bless your mother. She's such a sweet woman."

"Thank you. Good bye."

She hung up.

I clapped slowly. "Beautiful, absolutely amazing."

This was going wonderfully.

"Kyle...Kyle stop..stop this fray with your heart and mind..stop.." Stephanie's voice rung out, bouncing off the walls as a sweet, sweet echo.

I probably looked like I was smiling at nothing but she knew I was smiling at her, because as long as I got to hear her voice, and see her face, I wouldn't stop this war, this madness, wandering deeper into this fray.

Because my love for her far out-weighed all of this pain, and I needed to feel her around me.