Page 37 of Under the Bed

I wouldn’t stop until she screamed and cried in agony until she came all over my cock.

“Going to come. Can’t wait, you’re taking forever.”

Couldn’t be any more seductive if he tried.

“I’m close, I’m telling you.”

“I’m closer.” Apparently, he didn’t feel like he hit rock bottom before. “Come, or you can finish yourself off in the shower.”

I’ve had enough of this. I’m bored out of my mind, and besides, this woman deserves better.

God, or whoever’s up there, will ensure she gets it in the afterlife.

Or they won’t.

Don’t give a fuck either way.

Back to my task.

They’re oblivious. Clueless.

Have no fucking clue that I’m approaching.

The couple says nothing when I walk around the bed, standing at its edge.

He keeps hopping on her.

Would you look at that, a real-life jackhammer. A soon-to-be-dead one.

I’m quiet as I raise the knife. Quieter still when I shove it into his back as far as it’ll go.

His scream comes first.

The woman follows right behind.

I pull the knife out and a river of blood rains down on her.

And what does Mr. Heartthrob do?

He staggers off her, then off the bed.

You’d think his priority would be to help her. To shield her.

Not this guy.

He’s backing up toward the door, dick swinging, one hand pressed to the hole I made in his back. He bleeds out, despite his best efforts to cover the bleeding gash.

The woman lunges at me. She’s far braver than he is, naked and reaching for my knife.

Like hell.

Her blonde hair is greasy, almost slipping from my grip. I yank on it while she screams, granting her a quick death by slashing her throat open.

The other people I killed had it coming. The torture. The pain.

She doesn’t. Not like I’ll lose any sleep over this.

Her hands flail. Blood sputters out of her mouth.

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