Lucifer's Wings

Chapter 1: introducing Andrea

The screams of the 33 year old woman was like music to my ears, my sinister smirk growing when she pleaded and screamed.

Andrea cried, her dull orange hair that fell to her shoulders was matted to her forehead, "Please, have mercy. I have kids and a-"

"A husband," I mumbled thoughtfully, twisting the dagger in my hand, watching the shiny silver glint under the bright light on the otherwise dark side of the small town bar. The repulsive stench of garbage coming from beside me only further inspired me to get this job done quicker. "Your husband, the one who you were practically humping in his seat? Or the man at home, taking care of your kids every night, your family that you neglect for beer bellied drunks?"

Looking over her scantily clad body, my revulsion increased more. Her augmented breasts were spilling out of her two-sizes-too-small spaghetti strap crop top, her ripped shorts hanging on her thin body by the thread. She was a wanna-be 23 year old. She would've been attractive if she didn't look so whorish. Her vivid greed eyes surrounded by long, thick lashes, thin but pink lips, and heavily freckled face would be gorgeous if it wasn't Cakeface Island.

She stuttered for a response, having the guts to blush. She was caught red handed, just like all my other victims. I won't kill her, not now. She'll live. But not happily.

The crushing terror will be in her mind, with every step she takes toward a bar or club; with every drop of whiskey she drinks as her glazed eyes look over the heads of her children wanting her attention; with every time she hears my name: Lucifer.