Butch had the perfect body that would make any one jealous and unconfident. Buff, trim and tone, not grossly huge but not puny either. Butch had the ultimate workout jock body. His abs were so hard his friends have actually hurt themselves while play fighting him. Everything about Butch was rock solid.
But even a lifetime of athletic training and toning wasn't enough to stop the butchers knife from being driven into his stomach and turned clockwise by the sexy murderer in the white mask. The murderer was definitely a she, had it not been for the fact his blood was pouring out of his stomach it would have been rushing to his genitals. This murderer in a white mask was wearing nothing but a burgundy lingerie corset and she had a young body that was enough to make a man drool. Her long flowing hair had blond steaks in it, and a single bang hung over the forehead of the mask, enough to both arouse and terrify.
As she tore the knife from left to right like this was a high school science lab dissection, Butch attempted to conjure up screams but was losing life at such a fast pace he could do nothing but sit and watch the death before his eyes. Blood continued to pour out of Butch by what seemed like gallons, bits and loose pieces of guts and flesh began to pour out as the gap of the wound grew. Eventually Butch was able to focus his fear into one final bloody painful scream that squeaked like the little person he truly was.
“I DONT WANT TO DIE!” was the last thing he screamed in a gory scene horrific enough to make even the most hardened criminal flinch.
Eventually his body was on the ground and limp. A lifeless pile of the drunk date rape party animal he used to be. He would be mourned as a lost kind hearted kid with strong cheek bones and a respectable athlete. The public would never know about his sexual misdeeds that would make Steubenville blush.
Our murderer washed her knife in the bathroom sink and returned it to the sheath she kept in her cleavage. She gave the body one good kick with her red high heel so that every piece of cartilage in Butches nose would shatter. She then stepped on his testicles and laughed maniacally at the pitiful specimen that was once the towns most proud sexist. She took out a stick of Ruby red lipstick and left her mark on the mirror.
Our killer strutted out of the room with pride.
The Black Widow had struck again.
***
It was the typical cliche southern California serial killer scare. That was all Lisa could think while she sulked in her room as she overheard her parents in the family room, watching local TV news about the most recent victim of the Black Widow.
Her parents sat watching the TV, terrifying themselves needlessly as her father checked the locks and made sure both barrels of his shotgun were loaded. Safely stored by the corner of the door ready to be used instantly. Her dad positioned it so that if he picked up the gun from there, he could shoot an intruder if he was to come from any angle of the whole house, either from the door, one of the front windows, or from the back hall. In any case Lisa’s Dad had figured out the exact spot where he could plug an intruder at the first sight.
Lisa was in her room checking her Facebook trying to keep herself mildly entertained. It pissed her off that she wasn’t aloud to go anywhere or do anything during this recent serial killer scare. Lisa really couldn't believe the extent of the paranoia this had created, serial killers were as southern Californian as plastic surgery or flip flops the way she saw it.
The Black Widow had a calling card, every victim of hers had a lipstick put on their lips, she put make up on the body after they were dead. Either on the chest or on the walls would be a lipstick drawing of what looks like the spiderman logo but with fangs and an evil angry smile. Each mark of the Black Widow had an aura about it that was almost artistic, that was clearly the focus of a steady and dedicated hand which probably added to the terror.
The Black Widow was causing more deaths and terror than she could possibly hope for, and it was pissing Lisa off.
Lisa shrugged and opened up her laptop and blasted her favorite songs to drown out the misery she was in. She was going through her Warped Tour Band phase and was obsessed with pop punk and skater punk. She slumped onto her bed and returned to scrolling through cat memes on Facebook and checking her new SnapChat account. Eventually Lisa got a call from her best friend, Abby.
“Hey Girl,” Lisa said with cheer finally relieved to have real contact with the outside world.
“Hey,” Abby replied. “Your dad got you on lock down to?”
“Yes, and its driving me NUTS!” Lisa exclaimed
“Dude I hear you, but check this out. Have you been watching the news report about the recent victim?” Said Abby.
“No, you know I never watch local news.” Lisa replied.
“Whatever you hipster,” Abby grunted. “Listen this big, they aren't saying his name, but word is it was Butch.”
“Big Butch? The douche bag from school?” Lisa pondered and remembered how much she hated the sexist prick. She could honestly say he would not be missed by her or most of the girls at her school. Still this was the first time she experienced the death of a class mate, she couldn’t believe that she would never see that nut sack of testosterone again.
“Yeah,” Abby blurted. “I know I can’t believe it, this is starting to get kind of real.”
“I guess,” Lisa groaned.
“You're not even a little freaked out by this?”
“Serial Killers are to SoCal as Pizza is to Chicago. We have the Black Dahlia killing, Night Stalker, Grim Sleeper, and Charlie Manson. I think we will survive the Black Widow.” Lisa said with sardonic confidence.
“Maybe we will, but our boyfriends won’t.”
“Ex boyfriend.” Lisa jolted back.
“Shit,” Abby groaned, “What happened this time?”
“I dumped the son of a bitch for cheating on me. I’m still a god damn virgin and he’s off fucking Carly.” She exclaimed.
Carly was the blond preppy slut leader of what Lisa and Abby had dubbed the Axis of Evil, the mean girls of their school. Carly the blond, Jessica the red head, known to the guys as the Bed-Head-Red-Head because she always had “bed head” from sleeping around so much, and lastly there was Bella the Latina brunette. Each girl representing a different ratio of the slut demographic, at least as Lisa saw it.
Needless to say though, Lisa was hurt.
“I honestly hope Collin gets his throat cut by that fucking killer. That son of a bitch deserves it.”
“Jesus,” Abby replied. “A little mad are we?”
“You know something I offered to fuck him and he got nervous and wanted to wait, but apparently Carly is more fuckable than me.”
Once Lisa was done venting and paused she was ready to let Abby do the talking.
“Do you think they will catch her?” Abby asked.
“Probably. I’m more scared of those copy cat killers.”
“I know there are a lot of them, I mean its sick enough to be a serial killer, but to be a killer who emulates other killers, that’s just messed up. “
Lisa Agreed.
“Any way,” Abby continued. “The reason I originally called you was to tell you that Jane’s parents aren't freaking out as much over this whole serial killer thing. So they are allowing her to have people over as long as they are there. She was going to have a kickback this weekend and I wanted to see if you wanted to go.”
“Of course I do,” Lisa replied. “I just need to get clearance from the overlords.”
“It’s not until Saturday, you have plenty of time to make your case.”
“Good because if I don't get out of this house soon I’m going to go insane.”
“Well get back to me when you know whats up, we’ll keep each other posted, k?”
“k, I’m gonna go, text me.”
“You got it girl,” Abby replied. The two hung up and Lisa was now excited. She knew her parents would be likely to let her go to Jane's if her parents were going to be there. Plus she could have her Dad drop her off and pick her up personally, so he could see exactly where she was. It was too perfect. She could finally get out of the house for a bit.
It really was just too perfect.