✔️ GOT GUTS? | How To Escape A Psycho Serial Killer

CHAPTER 25: Too Far Gone

A malicious grin covered my face as I stomped my way up the stairs not giving a shit about the flaming stairway beneath me, not giving a damn about my wounds, and not caring about the heat slapping my shirtless body. All I was thinking of was capturing him and teaching him not to mess with me.

I allowed myself to be fooled by a kid!

'He's not a kid. Age is just a number, anyway,' the voice told me.

I agree. No kid would attempt to do what he did! A kid would whimper and cry in a corner, begging for his freedom, not actually plan his whole escape!

'Look at that ass! And those lips. Mmm. Let's grab his head and force him to deepthroat!'

Don't get me all horny yet. I need to teach him a lesson first.

I almost reached the top of the stairs while patting my jeans to put out the fire that had caught on them. I saw Kevin shaking so hard while still trying new keys to insert in the doorknob's lock, breathing loudly in panic.

As soon as I stomped my last step there, the keys slipped through his fingers and fell down. He got on his knees quickly and tried to grab them, but since he was so nervous and shaky, he pushed them further, sending them rolling over through the boards of the handrail.

He screamed, "No!" and tried to catch them before they fall, but he missed. The keys fell down to the basement floor.

I released a manic laughter, then I looked down at him and said, "Looks like you ran out of luck."

He grabbed the handrail and slowly stood up, looking like a complete wreck. His face was colorless and appeared to be turning grey. The kid was too tired to even stand on his own! When he balanced his stance, he put his shaky hands up, surrendering in peace, heh. His hands changed color too. The tips of his fingers were turning blue. His breathing was unsteady, short, and fast.

I can see now where I scratched him, I scratched his left arm at a bruised spot. The fabric was torn and the cut was slightly bleeding dark-colored blood. I couldn't care less about his health this time.

"You win. It's over now," he tried to calm me down with a lil frown on his worried, tired, sweaty face.

I always win.

"Wooh!" I exclaimed while leaning back in excitement, Then I looked at him with crazy eyes and declared, "That was a fun fight," I tilted my head and shook it in disagreement, "Though it's far from over."

And I always make them pay.

I grabbed him by the throat and pushed him against the door.

I could feel the blood pulsing strongly through his veins. His skin was really cold. His whole body was shivering, not only his lil hands.

He clutched one hand at my arm and the other at my grip to loosen it up. His clutches were so weak. His hands felt colder than his neck.

Now I have a pretty good idea of what's wrong with him. This disease spreads very fast. I don't think he'll survive the night.

He looked so sick, so tired, and so scared. Just the way I like it.

I closed my eyes, held my head up and talked slowly while biting my bottom lip, "Mmm. Finally, I'm touching some skin."

It felt good to finally catch him.

I gazed back at him pouting like a sad toddler and told him, "But I want more." Then I burst into a calm, sinister laughter.

He freaked out and panted, "Please, don't be mad."

I leaned over closer to his face and he tried turning away, but I put my knife on his cheek and pushed his face back facing me.

I then scoffed, "Mad?" while staring at his lips, which were also changing color to purple. I grit my teeth and aggressively replied, "I'm turned on."

I was about to kiss him. He quickly shut his eyes and closed his mouth. I chuckled at his helpless acts.

He's worried about a kiss? He must really hate me. I wonder how he'll react when I finally do him?

I leaned my body closer to him until our bodies touched. I pushed myself at him. He suddenly shuddered and gasped with a muffled voice.

I brushed my lips against his ear and he flinched again. I whispered, "Ya see? I just got a boner."

I wanted to scare the crap out of him. I wanted him to know that I was serious. It's working. He knows me now. He knows what I'm capable of doing. He knows what happens when I get mad.

He was terrified to the point that he was almost hyperventilating. Then I backed away and laughed amusingly at his weak attempts to unfold my fingers from his neck.

I like this. I really like it. But I wanna do more than just scare him.

I stared at the bottom of the stairs and said, "Oh, look."

He opened his eyes. I jerked my head pointing down the stairs and stated, "The fire is almost out. Too bad. I wanted to burn ya like you burned me. I guess I am a bit mad. But I can settle for this."

I swang him with one grip on his neck and threw him rolling down the stairs. He groaned all the way to the bottom. He passed a few flaming areas without catching fire. His back received most of the damage from the fall.

Once he reached the basement floor, he landed on his stomach with a loud thud, his face was turned facing me, his eyes were closed, and he wasn't moving. I watched him for a few seconds, hoping to see any signs of life. I couldn't believe that the fall would kill him!

I guess he was already too far gone.

Poor Kevin :(