Death's Contest Entries

Her Only Fear - 1 (Short Story Competition)

TICK. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Brea watched the grandfather clock with an expression of boredom on her face, her ears alert for any sound that might indicate his arrival.

When she heard his faints footsteps climbing up the stairs, her red lips curled up at the ends and formed into a smile. Finally.

The door to the bedroom opened and in entered a handsome man in his late twenties with thick brown curls. He was wearing a dark suit and flashed a smile at the woman who was seated on his master bed. Keeping his hungry eyes on her, he shut the door behind him and locked it.

"I want to have you so bad," he growled at her, removing his tie hastily. "The meeting downstairs was such a bore."

She batted her eyelashes and traced her own neck with a slender finger and brought it slowly down to her to chest and stopped, which caused another growl to escape from the man's throat. In seconds, his shirt was off along with his trousers and he made his way towards her. Brea, however, didn't make any move to remove her red dress.

He climbed onto the bed and wasted no time in connecting his lips with hers and she allowed his tongue to wander into her mouth. But when he made a move to touch her breasts, she stopped him and broke away from the kiss.

Her blue eyes twinkled mischievously. "Whatever happened to ladies first?"

He smirked when he understood her and obediently lay down on the bed on his back, still watching her every move. Brea's hands were quick as she tied his hands above his head and chained them to the bedpost, winking down at him at one point.

He chuckled, "I love it when you play so dirty."

"Oh, trust me," she said when her work was finished. "I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve."

He raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

Her smile widened and her pearly white teeth came into view. "Such as a knife," she said slowly, as she removed the very object from the sleeve of her dress and held it in her hand. She was now sitting on his stomach, her pale legs on either side of his body.

He wasn't impressed by her trick. "Didn't Mommy ever tell you not to play with sharp things?"

She almost laughed out loud at the idiot's stupidity. "Apparently yours was busy sucking her boss's dick instead of knocking a little more common sense into her son."

She watched his expression change from lust to confusion at her sudden cold tone and he glanced at the knife in her hands with a weary look.

"Clara, what-"

"The name's Brea. Brea Casey."

His eyes widened in horror at the name. A name he had been told to be on the look out for. Being the second son of a man who owned one of the wealthiest companies around, the infamous killer, Brea Casey was a threat to anyone rich and well known people in the business circle were weary of anyone even slightly suspicious. However, he hadn't been too careful and this mistake of his was going to cost him badly.

"T-The people down there," he started as he struggled to free his hands, "they'll hear me and-"

"What people?" Brea asked him in mock surprise. "You already dismissed all your clients and your servants have been excused for the night." She smiled. "No one is down there."

The terror on his face enlightened Brea as she raised the knife slowly and brought it down hard, stabbing his chest.

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