Femme Fatale: The Serial Killer
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I walk through the club's door. The smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke hit me instantly. I sway my hips to the beat of the music as I walk through the thick crowds of people.
I feel several pair of eyes on me as I seductively climb up the bar stool, making sure everyone can see just how short this little black dress is.
I scan over the club, searching for my next assigned victim. I turn to the right, my eyes are immediately met with a pair of vibrant green eyes. I smirk as he walks over to me.
"Hey, Good looking," he winks before continuing. "How'd you fit into that tiny, tiny dress?"
He eyes me up and down before handing me a business card. Gorgeous, rich, and powerful, that's just what I like.
I smirk before whispering in his ear, "You have no idea what you're getting into."
He lets out a deep, raspy chuckle, "Lucky for you, I like a good challenge."
"Don't say I didn't warn you." I wink before walking off.
Men. So stupid and gullible. Dare I say naive. The thing that gets me is the fact that I always warn them. They just never listen. They'll fall for anything as long as you have a nice body and tiny dress.
My name is Scarlett JoHansen, but to my victims, I am Natalia Dawn. I am Femme Fatal, and I am a Serial Killer.
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Oh, Scarlett, if only you knew what horrors lied in the future. Everything is going to change.
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#104
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