Page 53 of Brutal Prince

Dark wooden floor, dark wooden furniture, dark drapes to match my dark inner workings. The walls are white, that’s enough lightness.

Contrary to a popular myth created by popular TV shows, this serial killer is not fastidious about cleanliness to the point of being OCD.

Wrong story.

In this story the killer would soak in blood, spit and cum given the chance. However, I am aware that I must never leave a trail, so I have become an expert at cleaning up bodily fluids from carpets, floorboards and other surfaces.

I peered through the peephole to find that whoever was there had departed. Opening the door on the chain, I noticed a FedEx shoebox size package had been left on the floor. I wasn’t expecting anything, but was curious nonetheless. It was addressed to me, so it’s got to be for me.

The box felt empty when I lifted it but something rattled inside. Placing the box on the kitchen counter, I paused to check that Victoria was securely in another room, before I ripped the box open. I heard the sound of the shower water running followed by that distinctive sighing sound she makes when the water caresses her bare skin. That sound once got my dick hard.

I smiled for the first time in days, when I saw what was inside. A three pack of raspberry licorice logs, the brand that only she knew that I liked. There was a large red ribbon attached with a handwritten note that read I’d like to see you again soon xx

There was no need for her to sign it. Just like there was no need for me to sign my name to the bullet that killed her father and the lock of hair I stole from her young head.

I crept into the home office of my apartment and stepped inside the closet to slide back the false wall. Not even Vic knew this was here and I’d like to keep it that way.

The water was still running. A shampoo bottle fell onto the shower floor followed by a growl from Vic having to bend down and pick it up. Good, she’s still occupied.

Stepping back inside my cave, I punched in the code to the safe and it popped open. There are three items that live in this safe.

My wench phone, also used for dirty dealings of other matters.

A USB stick containing a logbook of Platinum members who have ever used the Snake and Chalice After Dark service. The list goes back decades and was transferred from an actual logbook to a USB several years ago and handed down to me when I became King of the Squalor Castle. Vanderbilt has the schedules and payments saved on his laptop, however only pseudonyms are used and payments are in code form not obvious dollar amounts. If anyone were to break into his computer and discover the schedule, they’d need my copy to decipher it. My copy has the real names matched with the pseudonyms.

A lock of hair of all my art pieces in separate small ring boxes, coded with the name I gave them, the date, time and location of their deaths. This pastime has nothing to do with the After Dark service; however, I may take advantage of the odd wench to satisfy an itch.

The shower water has been switched off and I estimated that I had another ten minutes before she’s out.

There’s a ritual she always followed - first she’d towel herself down, then massage rose geranium oil into her damp skin, and finally she’d brush and floss her teeth. Then she’d step out smelling fresh and succulent and I’d want nothing more than to sodden her with my cum.

There is a message on my phone received two hours ago, letting me know that a certain job was done. I replied: Good.

I borrowed the services of the After Dark S & C to complete this job and some bozo thug with charges to clear stood up for the task. Let’s hope he did exactly what I asked and not go overboard.

I found Cattus’ number in my contacts and sent her a message of when we should meet and paused for a moment to decide where. I had several choices - my apartment, Room 23, another hotel, the S and C chamber, forests, paddocks whatever.

Cattus was special in a completely unremarkable way. She’s the most ordinary girl I’ve ever been involved with and a part of me hungered for a piece of the ordinary, to be invisible, a wallflower, a commoner. A person shrouded in beige could get away with so much.

Alas, that was not my calling.

The sound of Vic’s electric toothbrush droned, so I knew I had only a couple more minutes. I was supposed to sleepover at her apartment tomorrow night, but I think I might find myself with a stomach bug.

I messaged Cattus my apartment address. I will wine and dine her and then split her in two with my cock when I fuck her so hard…

Silence.

The electric toothbrush has been switched off. I toss the wench phone onto the safe, locked it, slid the false wall across –

“Darling, what are you doing in there?” She’s suddenly right behind me and I startled. I didn’t even hear the bathroom door open and close.

I stepped out of the closet to greet her, breathing in the floral scent she’s dripping in. My cock lurched. “Just looking for a book Dad lent me. He wants it back.”

“What’s the name of it?”

“Rosemary’s Baby,” I answered, taking her in my arms and burying my face in the crook of her neck. Again, she stiffened at my touch.

“Strange book for a father and son to be reading.”

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