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This story will focus on a female serial killer named Raven and her odd relationship with Henry Lee Lucas. It is rated M for mature and XXX for tons of smut. This fanfic will have cussing, violence, blood, murder, and eventual BDS...
As I awakened the next day, sunlight from my bedroom window blinded my eyes. Groaning at the unwelcome intrusion, I covered my head with the blanket to block out the brightness. The next thing I did was feel for Henry. I sighed with disappointment when I discovered his side of the bed was vacant. Judging from the high level of coldness under my hand, it had been vacant for a while.
"Henry?" I called groggily. Maybe he was in the bathroom or the kitchen. When I didn't receive an answer, I cleared my throat and yelled louder. "Henry?!"
The apartment remained silent. My heart sank. I had hoped I would wake up next to him, or that he would at least be somewhere in my living quarters.
"Why would he skip out like this after everything that happened last night?" I wondered aloud.
Yawning, I stretched and spread all my limbs. When my hand brushed what felt like a piece of paper, my disappointment faded to curiosity. Henry had left a note explaining his absence on the pillow he had used.
After pushing down the blanket and rubbing my crusty eyes, I snatched up the paper. The note was written on a piece of stationery from a pad I kept on my end table for when I needed to write down phone numbers and messages from my answering machine.
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Scanning his handwriting, I chuckled quietly. He wrote in small, pointy, half cursive and half regular print with a slight slant to the left, much like I did. He had written on both sides, too. I wasn't surprised we had similar handwriting. I wasn't shocked by anything when it came to us anymore.
Henry's note read:
Raven,
I woke up about 10, but you were sleeping so soundly I didn't want to wake you. I made some coffee, then decided to go to the library while I was watching TV. I have some questions I want answers to. I need to do research if I want those answers. Plus, I want to go to the store and get some things, and I want to brush my teeth and change. I know we showered in the middle of the night, but I never washed my dick after we fucked (which was really good, by the way), so I might as well do that again, too. Get out that picture for me, and write down those full names and last known addresses. I'll be calling you this afternoon.
Love, Henry
"Aww..." I muttered, my heart melting.
His signature was almost illegible, also much like mine, and he had written, 'Love, Henry'. My mind went back to the middle of the night when I had fallen asleep while lying on top of him. I had thought he had said he thinks he might love me, but I wasn't sure if I had been dreaming or not. Maybe I really had heard him say that if he was writing 'Love, Henry' on a note. Maybe that was one of the questions he needed answers to. Maybe he was going to research the signs of being or falling in love while he was at the library.
After I laid Henry's note on my nightstand, I rolled to the side of the bed he had slept in and smelled the pillow he had used. The bed and pillow still smelled like him even though he had used my products in the shower. I reveled in his fresh scent for a few seconds before looking at my alarm clock.
