A Love to Kill

Part Three

Rodger stared at the computer screen. He couldn't comprehend what this girl was proposing. Someone that wanted what he had imposed on so many others? She wanted her blood smeared? It was strange to find one person in the world that wanted the same thing as him, let alone two. Rodger sighed. If there was only a way they could kill each other at once. But it was impossible-no matter the way or the how their souls couldn't leave at the same few seconds. Rodger pondered her request. This could be a trick. But then again the situation was too unusual to be a trap. Traps looked normal. Safe. They didn't stink of a trap. He clicked reply and wrote a single word.

Sure.                                                                                                                                

                Rodger pressed the send button, turned off the computer, and went to bed.

                The next day Rodger stood in front of his closet. What the hell did you wear to this type of thing? He felt like he was looking over a perspective client, and she was looking for an agent. An agent of death, that is. Maybe he should just wear what he was wearing now, splattered with yesterday's blood. Rodger grinned to himself. Give her a demonstration of what exactly he did with his victims. Although they weren't necessarily victims. Much more like reluctant volunteers to be a part of something unattainably beautiful unless he helped them along. In the end he settled on a black leather jacket and a pair of pants. On the way there Rodger was incredibly jumpy. He was always skittish on days after he hunted (had someone seen him? Did someone notice something? A pattern? A suspicion? Were they checking under the tree at this moment?), but today was different. Today was something other than ordinary, which put Rodger on edge. He didn't like not knowing what he was walking into, what to expect. There was something odd about this whole thing. People who knew they wanted death handled it themselves, and obviously those who didn't know they wanted death avoided it at all costs. Even he, who wanted death more than anything else, wouldn't approach one of his own and ask them to end his life. You couldn't trust them! Everyone knew that. So what could she really want?

                Perhaps she was insane. Rodger cringed. Insanity didn't serve him well at all. He'd rather steer clear of the crazies in the world. Still wondering what he was doing here, Rodger parked his car and walked into the Café Éclair. Round tables squared the perimeter of the room, and in front of his was the café's counter. He ordered a small coffee and sat down, asking himself how he would recognize her.  He had never seen her, according to her. He wondered if she lived around his home, or his hunting ground. Most likely the latter, considering she saw him kill. Rodger sighed. Maybe he shouldn't be here.

                A girl sat down at Rodger's table, across from him, placing two coffees in front of her.

                "I'm sorry-I didn't know you already bought a coffee." She smiled at him with small perfect teeth, white as a light. Her hair hung in her face, long, stringy, and bleached white, making her complexion paler than the whitest cloud, but sallow and papery. He could almost see the veins that rested right underneath her thin frame. Rings like black bruises circled dark blue eyes, so dark they were black until the sun touched them. She looked as though she was made of porcelain, and might break. She was so vulnerable, like a little doe, and white as a lamb. He immediately knew upon seeing her that he hadn't laid eyes on her before, for it he had, he would have killed her on the spot. She was as lovely as death itself, and so seductively vulnerable.

                She looked up at him with a little smile, rouge lips upturned. "My name is Dawn" she introduced.

                "I'm Rodger." His voice purred. "You emailed me?" Curiosity burned in the pit of his stomach. That and such a strong wanting. He longed to see her blood, watch that precious life seep onto his fingertips.  He quietly decided to kill her regardless what the situation was, one way or another. She was too beautiful to live. He was tempted to kill her now.