Page 29 of No, For An Answer
“Holy shit.” My breathing comes out in pants, and I begin to laugh. Dropping my head forward and laughing through the heavy breaths. “That’s new.” Pulling out of her, I sit back on my heals and steady my breath. Looking down at myself, dickhanging out and drenched in her cum, I laugh again. Looks like I can’t deny her as much as I thought I could.
Diary entry, Maisy
November 18th, 2022
What I thought would start as a really good day, turned into Hell on earth. Fran and her minions decided bullying me on a daily basis with words, just wasn’t enough. I don’t know what the hell I’m still doing here. My life is practically a living hell. Today, I was showering in the dorms once I thought everyone had returned to their rooms only to be greeted with a terrible beating from Fran. To make matters worse, she’s my roommate.
I don’t know what I did to get on their radar, and I don’t know why I deserve to suffer this daily, but I guess this is karma of some sort. They dragged me from the shower only to cover me, head to toe in a gallon of coke. After, they proceeded to smack me about between the three of them. I have a split lip and a black eye already beginning to show.
I’ve been allocated a single room by the Dean of Admissions, Joseph Chambers. I finally stopped caring what everyone thought and told him what’s been going on. During the fifteen minutes I spent in his office, he all but told me nothing would be done about Fran unless I gave him something too.
The moment his hand slid over my bare thighs; I knew what he was asking. It was then that I also realised that I was now totally alone. I have nothing and no one to look after me. I’ve even pushed my best friend away. I need to find a way out. A way to free myself from all this shit I’m wading through ts this piece of shit school.
I’ve never felt so alone, I’ve never hated myself more than I do right now.
I’m disgusted that I allowed him to touch me, just so I could have a break from all the pain. The last of my innocence fading away with his touch.
Maisy.
Ashley
Ilean against the tree and watch as Fran laughs with her friends while crossing the road. The orange tip of my cigarette the only light source. I’m far enough away so nobody notices me, wearing dark enough clothes, I easily blend in with the treeline. Seems she walks this way home regularly with her stupid airhead friends. Her cackle causes me to grimace. What a fucking rat.
I’ve spent the past three days staying as far away from her rapey ex-boyfriend, Jesse, who must’ve fucked me a little harder than I thought, because the day after, my pussy was sore as shit. I woke up the day after, with countless texts on my phone, ranging from Jesse threatening me, to Mia wondering where I was and what happened.
I’ve been spending most of that time, productively looking her up. Going through all the details about her life through the diary Maisy so graciously gave me, and I’ve finally come to a conclusion.
This Fran is the same Fran that’s been scribbled frantically in black ink over page thirty-eight. This Fran is the same Fran that tortured her daily. So,thisFran will be, you guessed it, thesameFran that I will take care of.
I watch as she denies her friends offer for a ride back home. What’s wrong with this girl? Doesn’t she know there’s a serial killer out there? I’m different, I don’t give a shit if death finds me. What I do care about, is if it finds me before I’ve finished my revenge.
Nobody is out here late at night. Lincoln State Park is a fifteen-minute walk from where she lives, so I decided to spend the day staying as close to her and her friends as I could. The three of them are oblivious. Who knew Fran was the outdoorsy type.
I chuckle to myself. They jump in the car, and she waves them off. With earbuds playing music, she obliviously passes me in the treeline. I need to make my move now. If I don’t, I might not get another chance. Walking behind her, I check my surroundings to make sure nobody else is about. It’s late, who the fuck would be.
Lifting my arm, I strike. Once, because I don’t want to kill her, just knock her out. The minute her skull connects with the rock in my hand she falls to the floor like a sack of fucking shit, and I finally release that breath that was, coincidentally, stuck in my throat. Even if someone saw me now, they wouldn’t know who I was. I’m wearing a balaclava with some fucking skull mask design over the top.
Nothing but my bright blue eyes on show. Taking her by the wrists, I drag her down into the brush and over the ditch. Deeper into the treeline and far away from the road as I can. If this was a year ago, I’d never have been able to drag a limp body like this. Dead weight is so fucking hard. However now, I do this with ease.
I think.
Who am I kidding this shit is fucking hard. This is why there’s hardlyanyfemale serial killers and also why we act mostly in crimes of passion. The workload is too much and dragging around bodies isn’t something we are interested in doing. Shit,I wouldn’t be dragging poor Fran through the woods if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Not that I’m planning to continue this after I’ve killed everyone. Let’s think of this as more of a means to a beautiful end.
My goal here is to hurt everyone who hurt Maisy and unfortunately, Fran will feel the brunt of it. This is my first time after all, and I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. But I’ve watched enough crime shows to get the gist.
“Come on, wake up.” I slap Fran’s cold little cheek three more times. She’s been out for the past thirty minutes. It’s laughable really. Who would’ve thought a rock would do that much damage. “Fran,” I sing. Her eyes shoot open and instantly she’s frantic, tearing at the rope I’ve tied to her wrists above her head. I may have also managed to hoist her over one particularly strong looking tree branch.
“Wha-what’s going on?” She asks, her lips quiver in fear. Frantically looking around at her surroundings as the panic builds in her eyes and I’m so fucking turned on by it. She panics, her eyes darting from left to right. “Help!!” she screams. The sound piercing through my ears the same way it does when a child has that awful high pitched fucking scream as they cry. God, I hate kids. “Help!!!” she screams again.
“Fran… Fran!” I hold my hands up. “Nobody will be able to hear you. We’re out in the middle of nowhere. And even if they did, they’ll never make it in time.” My voice coming out slightly muffled due to the balaclava. In that moment, the realisation hits her, and she begins to sob.
“Please, I have so much to do.” Tears streaming from her eyes.
“What, like sucking more dick,” I chortle. “Don’t make me laugh Fran, your fucking life is worthless,” I sigh. “I’m not getting into an argument with you. I came here to ask you a few questions.”
“Whatever you want, I-I’ll give it to you,” she stutters.
“Oh, I know you will.” I pull the knife from the back of my jeans waistband. She begins to scream even louder this time and if she carries on, I’ll cut the tongue from her mouth. Shaking the knife in front of her, I continue. “First thing, I hate repeating myself. So, when I speak, listen, and listen well. Get it?” Fran nods. “Good.” I smile behind the mask. “Now. Tell me about Maisy Lee.”
