Camille Loren Series, Book 1: Queen Nymphet

Blood in the Swimming Pool

        When Camille woke up, she had one hand taped a thousand times to the motel radiator and tape on her mouth. Luckily, given the hot summer weather, the heater wasn't on. She groggily sat up to survey her surroundings. 

"How fortunate the radiator isn't on." Elio called from the kitchen, as if reading her mind. He came back to sit on the bed with a cigarette in his hand. He took out his small metal lighter and held it up to his face. He looked at Camille in her eyes and passed his tongue through the flame, showing her he is not easily hurt. He then lit the cigarette, and held it so gracefully, letting the smoke crawl out of his mouth. She looked at Elio, making her best "I'm not afraid face". In a weird way she wasn't. She didn't cry, she didn't scream, she just looked at her beautiful prince who had transformed into a monster before her very eyes. "We can compensate though." Elio said walking toward her. For a moment he just knelt before her, and he seemed like his old self. He looked into her eyes and curled the left side of his mouth up to show that handsome smile he sported so well and took the tape off her mouth. This he did while jamming his cigarette into Camille's arm. Camille exhaled the pain and squinted to hold back any waterfalls. She bit her lip hard and looked back at him, unchanged. "Hm." Elio said before sitting back on the bed. 

         Camille ransacked her diamond mind for ideas. She was smart, but Elio knew that of course, given the closed blinds, the duck tape, etc. There was one thing Elio didn't know about though. Camille still had the little knife he'd given her in her sweater pocket. He's an idiot for not checking, she thought. How do I get it out without him seeing?  How do I get him close enough?

"So here's the plan, nymphet. I have a gun, the same one I used on Paloma. The same one I used on perfect Vera, and whining Charlotte. Here's the unfortunate difference: I care about you. I wanted you. I needed you to love me-- this is new. You seemed different. I actually thought we'd make it. So I'm sure you can imagine how disappointed I am to kill you," Elio lectured. Camille tried to force his words out of her ears, out of her mind. She couldn't hear this. Elio got closer, pulling his hands through his hair. "I think I loved you. You know how important that is to me? Love? And then, and then you make me do this? God, you're sadistic. Always have been. Little rose thorn..."

"I love you, Elio." Camille whimpered from the floor, her plan in action. Elio looked at her with a flicker of remorse in his eyes. Of course this wasn't going to persuade him not to kill her, but it would buy her time. 

"Nymphet, why are you making me kill you then?" Elio questioned.

"Elio, this is your decision. I want to be by your side forever. I want you too. I need you too." Camille said, allowing "tears" to fall.

"I have to do it, I have to."

"I understand, Elio." Camille started, still crying. "But before you do it, would you kiss me? Give me something to hold onto. Something to take with me." Elio eyed her suspiciously but came close to her nonetheless. "I just want to hold you one last time." Elio sat down next to her, blocking her from the door. Camille stood up as much as she could while being cuffed, and sat down again on top of Elio, straddling him. She took her free hand and pulled his face toward hers. She kissed him, eyes wide open, and her hand groping around in her sweater trying to find the knife. She felt him pull away a bit and kissed him more forcefully, keeping him there. She finally felt the sharp point. With the knife in her hand, she softly put her hand around the back of his neck and kissed him just to kiss him. She knew even though she was scared to death of this man, and twelve years younger than him, she loved him. She held the tip of the knife parallel to his neck, and pushed. Feeling the sharpness, Elio pulled away, fury in his eyes, but it was too late. The silver tip of the knife was already coming out the other end of his neck. Camille looked into his eyes as blood sputtered out of those lips she loved so much. He grabbed for her neck, resorting to choking her, but his grip was too limp. He was about to die. Camille half stood up and watched him writhe on the floor. Now came the real tears. She hysterically pulled the knife out of his neck and tried to get him to hold onto life. She hacked at the tape keeping her on the radiator and when freed, knelt by Elio and propped him up. 

"I loved you." He gasped. 

"No, no, I'm so sorry" She cried. "Please, sit up. Come on." 

            She pleaded with him like this for an hour after he died. She held him until her eyes had glazed over and her mind was fog. She had blood all over her and couldn't even see straight. The purple-red goo was in her mouth from kissing him, in her hands from holding him, and seeped into her skin, deep into her core. Everything she looked at was moving and blurry. Drunk with delirious, dream like, vision, she pushed past the screen door and trudged away from the cabin. She had no desired destination in mind. She knew only to walk. 

           Everything moved in slow motion, including her hardly obeying limbs. She looked ahead of her at the glimmering pool. She thought of how cold the last one was, and hoped this one would be a little warmer. Unable to stop herself, or perhaps not thinking to, she fell into the pool. She let the chlorine wash away the blood, the Elio, and the guilt she could finally stop feeling for Paloma. She let herself sink, down, down, down.

Down.