Pedokiller

Chapter 22

I had to admit I was afraid of her. I'd never killed anyone before. She was showing me the ropes. I looked in her kill box. I was impressed. She was clean and calm. I liked the way she operated.

"Kelly grab the rope like this, and do this," she instructed while strangling a punch dummy.

I followed her instructions. She nodded in approval. Her long blonde hair flowed down her back like a cascading waterfall. When she blinked her eyes fluttered like butterflies. She was so beautiful to me.

"Why do you want to do this?" She asked me.

"Because I want to be with you," I stated.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" She asked.

"Yes baby," I replied.

"Have you ever been raped?" She inquired.

"No. I understand in a way how they must feel, but I've never personally experienced the horrors of molestation," I explained.

"I hope you never do," she stated.

"I understand the importance of your work. This killing career is very intriguing to me. I want to be your literal partner in crime," I said.

"A couple who slays together stays together," she joked.

We both errupted with laughter. I held her hand. I imagined it bloodstained. I felt myself getting wet. The power and control over those useless parasites made me hot. My girlfriend was a real knockout.

"I'm going to let you kill this one," she said without emotion.

I froze in place. My hands trembled a bit. I shook my head yes. I knew I had it in me. Everyone has an inner serial killer. She inspired mine to manifest with murder. I loved her. I would have done anything to please her.

We arrived at the brink of dawn at an old farm house. I had driven 143 miles away in my car. She had put her tool box in the trunk. I woke her up. She stretched like a cat. She sprung into action. I popped the trunk. She grabbed the box. We suited up. I wore an itchy black ski mask and thin gloves. She wore the same items of clothing. She looked sexy in them. I had to stay focused.

She handed me a gun. A gun was in my hands. A real life loaded gun was now in my hands. I felt the power of the cold steel. I couldn't believe we were doing this crime. I had never felt so alive in all my life. My heart beat super fast in my chest. My mind was clear. I was ready to kill a piece of shit.

She opened the door with a knife. She did it very fast. I was impressed. The man was home alone. He did have a wife and daughter they were gone. He had been convicted of raping animals. Bestiality was a hidious crime. Most people never spoke of such filth.

"Hands up sheep fucker!" I shouted.

His hands flew up in the air. He spilt an entire bowl of popcorn all over the floor. The remote had hit the floor too. He turned to see us. We looked like two sexy burglars. His eyes darted toward a shotgun in the corner. He threw himself toward the gun.

I shot him in the ribs. He rolled on the floor screaming in agony. Blood spewed through his chubby fingers. I shot him again in the back. He screamed again. The .22 caliber revolver was a punishment inflicter. I put one last round in his head. After I watched him bleed and yell for a few minutes.

"Good job," she whispered while she took the gun from me.

I felt guilt flood into me. I started sobbing on the way home. She was driving. She held my hand. Her other hand was on the wheel. She pulled over in a safe place.

"It's ok babe," she stated while holding me.

"I-I just k-killed a man," I stammered.

"He wasn't a man. A real man doesn't fuck barnyard animals. A man stands up for his family instead of beating them into submission. You killed a monster not a man," she asserted.

She was right. Most people in society would have agreed with her; however, I felt dreadful. I knew it was wrong to kill him. I felt like it was purely sinister. I didn't want to kill again, but I loved her. I admired her. I was her partner and she trusted me.

"The first kill is always the hardest. After that it gets easier and easier," she explained.

"That's what I'm afraid of," I whispered under my breath as I sobbed on her shoulder.