It was a good choice to bring duct tape to suppress the screams from the victim. After I sprayed on hefty amounts of perfume and slipped on gloves and a mask, I grabbed the small knife hidden as a comb in my backpack. She was screaming, but I whispered huskily, "Be quiet, and I'll spare your children."
I chuckled as I traced my knife around her chin. She closed her eyes, and froze. I waited for them to open, before ramming it straight to her heart. She screamed, and I laughed. I laughed and laughed and stabbed her as hard as I could. Blood was everywhere. I slowly smiled as the heartbeat stopped, and I made a small incision on her stomach, pulling out the guts, slowly but surely, with blood on my hands, forming an I shape. That was my name to her, Isaac. I whistled, and for extra decoration, I wrote out the name on the floor next to her. I smiled at my masterpiece, another beautiful piece done. I whistled, and casually left the bathroom, casually dumping all my stuff in the nearest trash can.
"Hello, mum? I'll be flying off tomorrow morning again. I'll see you soon," I left her a message. As soon as I checked into my hotel, I heaved a sigh of relief. No more work to do, and I could relax for the night. I showered, got most of the dried blood off of myself, and jumped onto the big bed, opening a pack of crisps and soda while watching TV.
Grace was nothing. One of easy kills, in fact. No struggling, and her guts were frankly, quite easy to deal with. Not as gory as some, but enough for my enjoyment as I saw her dying breath.
I love my job sometimes.
YOU ARE READING
Crimson Red
Mystery / ThrillerAnd as I stared at my now blood-stained hands, I finally realised. I realised how precious life could be, I realised how ignorant I was, I realised something; I could not control how others' lives work, and when was their time to go.
