Fuck a princess, I'm a king
Bow down and kiss on my ring
Being a bitch is my kink
What the fuck else did you think?
The girl had been staring at me for hours. She had shamelessly ranked her eyes up and down my body more than once, taking a very long time in my boobs. I had no clue if she knew I had noticed her, but she was either aware or not of her flirting. I was, in fact, into both worlds, so I could've approached her and taken her home.
She was hot. Tan skin and chocolate afro-like curls. Her lips were plump and full, just like her tits. Exactly what I liked. But I had a date for today already. And, sadly, it was a guy. Yes, I was into both worlds, but dick could never replace pussy. I mean, c'mon, dude.
Not that I hadn't done threesomes before. It was hard though, since my parents were always around. Two weeks ago, I had finally declared my plan as started. I had "disappeared" and, now, I was a step closer to being completely free.
I had been going on with this life for almost nine years now and my parents were too fucking naive to even suspect. Not that I didn't like my parents, I loved them, but the life they gave me wasn't the one I was meant to be in. When I arrived late, for example, fuck, I wasn't partying, I was finishing some job. Buying drugs even.
I barely ever did drugs, only occasionally when things got too heated. It was a good feeling, but I was aware of my health, so I barely ever bought them. Which was ironic, because I didn't give a fuck when it came to cigarettes or alcohol.
My parents always thought I was a sweet little angel, and I most definitely wasn't. I was pretty sure they even thought I was still a virgin. Please, I was twenty five. When I turned sixteen, I made some dangerous friends that worked here, at Serpento. I bought drugs and cigarettes from them, but we ended up bonding so I stayed longer. Maybe longer than I should've, because look at where I was now. I even fell in love with one of them, Zayn Malik.
My relationship with Zayn was still ongoing nowadays, but it was more of an open relationship, mostly because he knew I'd rather fuck girls than guys. So he let me have the independence I wanted as long as I only slept with people and nothing else. I loved him, I really did, and he was my boyfriend, but I needed to get some freedom.
About my job, I guess I was just interested and curious about new things. Zayn's uncle, John Agarwal, was the one who trained me. When he was sure I was the best, he hired me as a killer for his drug organization. Now, I had a job that I loved, dope friends and someone to fuck every night. My job consisted in drug delivery and killing, and I was, by far, the best.
My fighting skills were flawless, as well as my aim with weapons and my recklessness when it came to torture or murder. I really couldn't give a shit about the people that stained my hands with blood, only because I knew they weren't good people. I wasn't either, but they all had done things that made me want to puke with the mere thought of them.
Most of them were pedophiles or rapists, and those guys were the ones with the best jobs out of all my body count.
My fantasy had always been breaking free and starting to kill people on my own instead of following orders. If I did, of course I'd always stick to the old protocol of killing only people who deserved it, and I'd be careful enough not to have the whole FBI after me on the first day. I even mentioned it to John and he told me it wasn't necessary for me to 'break free' since he'd let me go on my own some day. But until then, he said I still had too much to learn, because, sometimes, I was way too reckless and things tended to go south.
Now, we had started with the plan of letting me go.
Ashton Agarwal, John's son and Zayn's cousin, had leant me one of the thousands of unused apartments his family owned, and I was staying there, Zayn visiting from time to time. Most of my one night stands happened here because I liked being comfortable in a place I knew, which meant the living room had been seen by thousands of different people. My parents thought I still lived in the old apartment they had given me -the were mistaken.
I always made sure my dates were really drunk and left before sunrise. I couldn't risk myself like that, especially now that the FBI was looking for me. Not in a bad way though. My parents were worried.
It had been two weeks since I had been led on my own path, meaning I had killed fourteen men. One day each, all of them mutilated and with a rose as a signature. A red rose. Red like the blood they ended up covered in.
I had a strange fanaticism with roses, especially with their color. Why? Blood. Simple. My job had made me grow up as a deranged psycho. I loved blood, the metallic smell and the color. Crimson red. So artistic.
When John had started helping me part my way, he told me there was this organization, D.M.G., that worked with killers. At first, I rejected the offer because I thought that included having another boss. But when Agarwal explained to me that the organization was just to keep us away and safe from the FBI, I realized it would be stupid of me not to accept the deal. They helped me find the men I wanted to kill, giving me the information I needed.
My pattern always consisted in torturing the men during the early morning in an old warehouse on the outskirts of town. Not to get answers, just for the fun and adrenaline of the moment and to make them suffer. Then, I would slit their throats or crack their necks, something to kill them, and leave them in different municipal garbage dumpsters with my emblematic red rose. I figured disappearing in the same place all these men were murdered would confuse the FBI, making them think I was kidnapped or some shit. Still, there was another meaning behind the place choice.
So here I was now, working as a killer for an assassination guild.
My attire choice tonight was a bold one. A colorful short, tight dress that ended right under my ass and was nearly spilling out my tits. A pair of black stiletto shoes and my jet-black hair loose. I had always wanted to cut out bangs, and Zayn said he would help me whenever I wanted, but I still wasn't ready to let go of my precious hair. It would be a great change.
My date tonight was this guy, no ides what his name was. He was cute, with the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes and brown hair. His tattoos really called my attention, since he had whole sleeves on both his arms and some other drawings peaking from under his shirt. We hadn't talked, but we had been staring at each other all night, so I figured he'd be my fuck buddy. But then I saw this girl.
Basically, I just said 'fuck it' and stood up, walking towards her. Most of the times, other people were the ones who did the first move on me and I'd choose out of them, but she was really waiting for me and I couldn't waste such an opportunity.
She watched me as I approached her and I'm pretty sure the other guy was watching, too. The girl had a whiskey glass in her hand and she was sitting on the bar, one of her legs crossed on top of the other. She had an amazing body. Her outfit was intrepid, like mine; a black pair of jean shorts and a white tank top that exposed her beautiful cleavage. Her nails were short, round and painted in black, just like her lips. Wrapped around her neck was a black leather choker with a silver cross pendant. Hot.
"Alone tonight?" I asked, sitting on the stool next to her.
I placed my own glass on the stool, my whole body facing this beautiful girl. I took a swift glance at her collarbone and I noticed how smooth her skin was, as if nobody had ever touched her. I'd like to touch her. She was, by far, the prettiest girl I'd even seen, and I had been coming to Serpento for nine years now.
"Alone tonight." She confirmed, and I laughed lightly.
I couldn't describe her voice. It wasn't deep as I thought it would. It wasn't loud either. It was like a mix between both of them, a low acute or something. Kinda raspy and so hot.
Her hair was divided on one side, her brown afro curls falling on her eyes and all over the place. Her lips were even prettier from here and they curled in a very specific way when she talked. About her makeup, she was wearing a light shade of pink on her eyelids with a black cat eyeliner and matte crepe pink lipstick. Some freckles were visible too on the bridge of her nose, as well as the glow on the tip of her nose. All of this noticeable under the blue and red lights the bar was illuminated with.
"Haven't seen you around. Is it your first time here?" I trailed.
"Not really. I've been coming here ever since I can remember. Weird, though, I haven't seen you once either." She pursed a bit her lips with a cheeky grin on her face.
"I'm just good at my job." I shrugged my shoulders, taking my whiskey to my lips and drinking as I kept direct eye contact with her over the rim of the glass.
"And what exactly is your job?" She leaned a bit forward unintentionally, teasing me in a way I couldn't explain. I let out a deep sigh.
"I don't know, what's yours?" I ignored her previous statement and she furrowed her brows, her jaw dropping with a playful smirk.
"That's not fair. I want to know." The mischievousness on her voice made me smile, just for the simple fact that I never thought I'd find anyone cute in an asexual way.
"Tell me your job and I'll tell you mine." I offered, and she rolled her eyes.
"I'm a stripper at Neamhaí." She pointed the door, talking about another famous bar. As much as I would've liked the fact she was a stripper, I knew she wasn't. She couldn't. I mean, dude, she looked so innocent... sometimes.
"I have the feeling you're not being completely honest." I squinted my eyes at her, waiting for her to mention her actual job. I didn't even know her name, but she was fun and I liked her. Not that I cared about the names of the people I fucked anyways, though I was actually interested in hers.
"That's because I'm not."
I tried acting angry, rolling my eyes and huffing in frustration, but the tender grin that I was trying to repress wasn't willing to stay undercover. I smiled shyly and she smiled back, a genuine smile.
"I am a stripper because I need money, but I work at an organization. It's called D.M.G." She explained, lowering her voice on the last part. I was really surprised that she was actually a killer, like me, and that I had never seen her. And well, as the annoying ass bitch I was, I decided to play a bit.
Acting surprised, I raised my eyebrows. "Really? What does this organization do?"
And my joke worked, because she turned red. So red I could notice it even under the colorful lights. Her mouth opened in order to say something, but nothing came out. The uncomfortableness she discharged could be noticed by anyone in the bar. Luckily, nobody was watching. All of this as I stared at her expectantly.
"Relax, I work there, too." I motioned with my hand and she immediately let go of all the air she was holding.
"Really? How come I've never seen you? I mean, I guess you've been to the Main Hall. What's your name?" She blurt out all at once.
The Main Hall was what we called the building were the organization was settled. The owners of the establishment kinda lived there, though no one had ever seen them, and every member of the gang, to call it somehow, went there every time they needed information or just to chill and hang out with a bunch of other killers. Zayn spent a lot of time there with some friends. Fun fact, I had never been to the Main Hall. Agarwal knew how independent I was, so he talked to the owner and I ended up having my personal information delivery. This was the reason I didn't know anyone and no one knew me.
"Actually, I've never in my life been to the Main Hall. I'm Natalie Perkins." I formed my lips into a line, the girl's features expressing slight shock.
"No way! You're like famous among the killers there, they call you... god's killer, I think? That's so cool, dude, everyone talks about you." She explained with eagerness.
Huh?
"God's killer? That's so lame. And what do you mean everyone talks about me?" I furrowed my brows.
"Yeah, you're like a celebrity in the guild. Everyone admires you. They like your way of killing people, the rose, how you challenge the FBI. They really fucking love you." She added, sipping from her glass. "I'm Alissa, by the way. Alissa Chambers."
"Your dad's Nick Chambers? That guy's like a fuck up." I said nonchalantly, shrugging my elbows and thinking about all the horrible stuff he had done. "Oh, my god, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. He actually is a fuck up. I tried killing him several times and I'm not even joking." She said sternly but with a tad of playfulness, which I couldn't help but chuckle at. "Hey, I don't think it's safe talking about... you know, the guild, here. Do you want to leave?"
Hell yeah.
"Are you flirting with me?" I arched an eyebrow, seeing as her beautiful lips formed into a cocky smirk.
But, when I thought she'd stay quiet, she talked. "In your dreams."
Alissa proceeded to jump off of her stool, walking towards the door. I stayed still, frozen at her words. I was usually the confusing one, but there I was, confused. She was just so pretty and funny and I was sure we'd end up sleeping together, though I was scared that she'd be the dominant kind. I was always the dominant one.
I followed her out of the bar and ran a bit to catch up to her pace, checking my watch which read 1:40 in the morning. I had five hours and twenty minutes and then I had to leave and kidnap my next victim. The schedule was permanent; I kidnapped them at seven in the morning and tortured them till nine thirty, leaving them in the dumpsters at ten.
And my next victim was Desmond Styles.
Bow for the queen.