Dead men don't catcall

Chapter four page 2

I couldn't stop laughing as he squirmed in pain, it was rather entertaining. His fragile little body turning left and right in an attempt to get away from my sharp knife. He squeezed his eyes close as if he thought if he couldn't see the knife he wouldn't feel it. He was wrong however, he screamed in pain as I jabbed the tip of the knife into the rough skin on his arm. I pulled the knife out smiling as blood shot out of the wound and all over the both of us, "Ugh look you made a mess. I should make you clean it up but watching you'r pathetic face yell in pain is much more fun." I said as I continued to glide the knife down his body, " I bet you regret what you did, Right?" He frantically nodded, once again begging for my forgiveness.

I quickly got bored of his constant whining. I untied one of his hands and handed him the knife. I held up a gun conveniently placed on a table nearby. I pointed the gun at his head, "Obey my orders or I'll shoot you." I ordered as Luke eyed the knife in his hands. He squeezed his eyes closed again as he nodded tears rolling down his face. I smirked at him as I hissed, "Stab yourself. If you want a chance at survival stab yourself or ill end you here and you won't even get a chance to make it out alive." I lied about letting him live, as soon as he stabbed himself, I would make sure he was dead and if he wasn't I would shoot him. He didn't know that however and jumped at the slightest chance of survival. He threw his hand towards himself impaling his own stomach with the knife. He pulled the knife out with one fast movement. Blood splattered everywhere before the body in the chair went limp. I walked towards the body checking for a pulse. Nothing. He was dead. Definitely dead. I untied him and placed his body on the floor next to a fake suicide note I made. I didn't plan on bringing any attention to this murder if someone found the body oh well. If no one found his body he was going to rot here forever. Equal punishment for the crime he committed if I do say so myself. I grabbed his laptop and left the house hopefully to never see his disgusting face again. I hoped in my car and drove home, I blasted my playlist named "Songs for when I feel like a badass" at full volume the whole way home taping my fingers on the steering wheel as if it were a drum set. I glanced over at the grey laptop placed on the passenger seat. The rather large computer looked clean almost new as if it had never been used before. Of course besides the bloody handprints I made on the laptop when I grabbed it.