Love Kills

Pain Is So Close To Pleasure

"Don't stop me now. Don't stop me, cause I'm having a good time-"

The hot water rained down over the tall, skinny man as he massaged the shampoo into his brown-blond locks. Queen was blasting on the speakers as the steam filled the bathroom and the water turned red.

It's a shame the blood can't stay on me any longer, Colin thought. He liked the look, smell and feel of it, but he had to admit it looked pretty mixed with the water as well, swirling towards the drain. However, not as pretty as it had looked on her...

As Colin was about to step out of the shower, his eye caught a red drop rolling down his arm. He quickly licked it up and grinned before grabbing a towel.

"Hello, handsome!" He winked at his reflection in the mirror and ran his hand through his hair. The sides were cut short and in the middle, his hair waved back in an elegant- if slightly cocky- way.

He removed the red stains under his fingernails, put on black skinny jeans, a fresh white shirt and looked in the mirror again. He was ready to go.

Colin grinned widely as he stepped into the room and sat down at the bar. He was the shining image of confidence itself as he ordered a drink and scanned the crowd. His eyes soon fell on a young woman with a little too much makeup on and a dress that was a little too tight for her. He picked out an expensive- but not too fancy- drink and asked the bartender to give it to her on his account. He observed her as she looked up in surprise and how she looked even more surprised when she met his eyes. Colin held up his glass to her in a toast and she blushed furiously as she took a too big gulp of her drink. For a moment Colin wondered if he had picked the wrong girl, but all doubt was erased from his mind when she came up to him and sat down next to him, flirtingly saying:

"Am I too drunk or are you always this handsome?"

"I'm all natural baby," he winked at her, making her giggle.

"I'm Tom by the way," he continued as he held out his hand. She slid her soft hand in his.

"I'm Susan."

"I'm very glad you presented yourself," Colin said with a serious look on his face.

"Why?"

"Because I don't like kissing strangers," he said as he leaned in for a deep kiss. He lightly bit her bottom lip as he let go, then licked his teeth and looked at her.

"Hmm. Strawberry!"

She burst out laughing and leaned her head in his neck, blushing even more than before. He stroked her hair behind her ear and lifted her chin as he brought his face close up to hers.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered before smiling as she let out a giggle. She was so easy to play with, following all the rules as if she was playing with open cards. Too bad for her.

"Can I offer you a drink?" Susan smiled widely as she invitingly raised a bottle of Whiskey.

"First luring me, a simple stranger, into your house and now offering me a drink? For all I know you may be an ax-murderer," Colin joked as he took the bottle from her hand and looked at it approvingly.

"Hmm, Paddy! I like your taste. As an ex-bartender I'll strike you a deal; you show me some lemon and ice and I'll show you an amazing drink."

"Deal," she laughed before locking her mouth on his. He folded his arms around her and made her feel safe in his arms while tenderly kissing back.

As he poured some of the liquor in two glasses, she bent down to find some ice-cubes in her freezer. She did not notice the white powder he poured in one of the glasses with a wave of his hand.

He smoothly undressed her as he kissed her neck and further down. As she gasped and moaned out in pleasure he grinned at the power he had over her.

The clean cut with the scalpel was made with surgical precision, though it was definitely not performed by a surgeon. However, it was enjoyed, highly enjoyed, by the grinning man who absentmindedly licked his lips as he directed the scalpel with a steady hand. He started humming The Invisible Man by Queen lowly and washed his hands in the stained sink before continuing; the last thing he needed was slippery hands right now. His coworker was waiting in the living room, impatiently waiting for him to finish. Colin made one last cut and dried his hands before standing up.

"I've got it!" He called out. Colin just heard a grunt from his coworker, but she seemed satisfied with his work, put the organ carefully in the coolbox and paid Colin before quickly leaving the place.

Colin stayed. He wanted to look at his work. Besides, he had to clean up after himself. He carefully sewed the wound with a few stitches and even took the time to write a short, melodramatic message on the mirror. He didn't really know why he did it, it wasn't like this message would really help anybody. Then again, why not? Not everyone got the chance to write melodramatic messages in blood.

Susan would soon wake up in the bathtub, having a little less weight, short-term loss of memory and a stinging pain in her stomach. The bathroom mirror would contain the message:

"IF YOU WANT TO LIVE, CALL 911."

Written in blood, of course.

Colin's humming got louder as he walked out of the building and drove to his apartment. By the time he got home, he was singing loudly. He didn't think of it as his home really, somehow the term home still described the house his parents lived in. The apartment was small, not in the nicest part of the city, though not in the worst either. The reason it didn't feel like home was the fact that he had never bothered to fill it up with carpets and pictures and flowers like his childhood home had been. Pictures were on phones and computers and really only hipsters got one of these overpriced Polaroid cameras. As for flowers, Colin did not see the point of them either. What else made homes into homes? Probably the mess. Colin never made or left a mess.

As Colin walked in, he went right to the LP-player and put on the album Sheer Heart Attack by Queen. He put on side two and closed his eyes when In The Lap Of The Gods started playing. As the music intensified he started swinging slowly from side to side before opening his eyes again. This is why he needed to do the job he did; it got him in such a great mood. He loved it, the blood, the scalpel, the flirting and tricking, the message in the mirror... He chuckled when thinking of the clishè message.

The fun thing is, he thought, that with crimes you can be as clishè as you like, it is not like the victim will complain when waking up. No, that poor girl will probably be mortified when waking up, checking her side in the stained mirror.

With a satisfied smile, Colin poured himself a glass of Paddy. He was already dreaming of his next victim.