Page 20 of Mara
Mara lived in a Mary-fucking-Poppins type house. It was bright yellow and screamed joy and happy rainbow shit.
I glared at the preppy Halloween decorations and kicked a fake plastic ghost across the lawn and into the street. The lock on her door was pitiful and beyond easy to break.
Perhaps I needed to install proper cameras in this place to deter some of those idiots from using her dating site. I walked into the house and closed the door with a soft click, disturbing the silence.
Mara was deaf, but she still has those hearing devices. She would hear me if I were too loud. Making my way into the living room, I kicked back on her couch and ate some leftover popcorn. Mara had left her TV on, and some shitty movie was playing.
Watching the ending while finishing off the snack, I missed the two beady, red eyes glowing in the dark corner until they charged at my foot. I felt a sharp sting on my ankle and looked down in surprise. Mara’s guard dog was a fucking elongated rat, and it was chewing on my ankle with some sharp teeth.
“Owe, you little shit. Get the fuck off me.”
I shook my foot, but the beast stayed latched on and bit down harder. Blood droplets coated the little shit’s white fur and dripped on the floor.
“Do I need to make a coat out of you, asshole?” I warned, trying to pull the ankle biter off me.
I didn’t actually want to murder Mara’s weird pet, so I regrouped on my tactics for tonight. I took a blanket off the couch and rolled the bloodthirsty creature into it and waited for him to release my ankle. Not having much luck, I resorted to scratching the fuckhead’s fur. His grip loosened.
“Ah. So a whore like your owner then, huh?”
Cementing my point, the thing snuggled in the blanket and nudged its head into my hand.
“You try to eat my damn foot and now want me to pet you?”
Shaking my head at the rodent, I laughed to myself. “Guess you are just like your goddamn owner.”
I managed to get away from the attention-hoe of a pet and made my way into the kitchen. My flower was sitting on theisland. She hadn’t thrown it away, but hadn’t put it in water either. It likely scared her.
I’m starting to think you like what scares you, Little Reaper.”
I looked over to the stairs and felt my cock harden. My obsession was just upstairs, asleep like a peaceful little baby. I took two steps at a time. Mara’s room was easy enough to find. The door was wide open, probably so that furball could have access to sleep with her.
You invited a different kind of hot-blooded animal into your bed tonight, Little Reaper.
Mara didn’t look peaceful. Her body tossed and turned as she struggled with her dreams. I wondered what was haunting her mind, and hoped it was me. Studying her flailing body, she definitely looked like she was running from something.
“Are you truly afraid of being caught?” I taunted her in a whisper. “Or are you anticipating how much you’ll like it when you are?”
She could try to play the innocent card all she fucking wanted, but she was an easy little slut for me. It barely took looking in her direction to be invited into that bathroom with her. My needy whore was up against that sink for a complete stranger, begging to come on my face.
The memory of her taste made my cock throb.
God, I fucking felt unhinged for her.
What was it about this annoying fucking woman that made me want to rip her apart, piece by fucking piece, and fuck every part of her.
I checked my pocket for the syringe. I loaded this fucker with some good shit, and I was going to make this ride a good one.
For me, at least.
She wouldn’t remember shit, but I would finally sink my dick into her body where I belonged. Gianna’s come still coated mycock. I wondered if Mara would get soaked for the taste of her come. One day, she was going to lick me clean so I could get dirty all fucking over again.
I walked over to her little vanity, the mirror reflecting my special mask just for her. I had built this with my own hands. While the face-painted mask’s bone structure was all man, the intricate color palette replicated the Day of the Dead. My eyes were blacked out, but the pale reds, blues, and yellows created an ombre effect that replicated the day of celebration.
I was a reflection of her.
Life and death.
Her darkness with her light.
