Chapter 5 - I'll Break Your Heart...Literally

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THIS IS A REALLY LONG CHAPTER DEDICATED TO DAEMON. THIS ISNT RELEVANT TO THE STORY WITH RILEY BUT IT DOES DESCRIBE THE DEATH OF THE GIRL FROM JEFF'S. IT IS ALSO VERY IN DEPTH AND SHOWS A GRAPHIC SCENE. YOU DONT HAVE TO READ IT IF YOU FIND IT TOO MUCH. I GET EXTREMELY EMBARRASSED ABOUT WRITING SCENES LIKE THESE, YET THEY FIT THE CRITERIA OF DAEMON'S PERSONALITY AND HIS WARPED MIND. PLEASE DONT TAKE OFFENCE. THIS IS NOT EDITED, AS I WILL FIX MISTAKES WHEN I AM HOME FROM VACATION. THANK YOU AND PLEASE COMMENT AND VOTE! I LOVE YOU <3

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DAEMONS POV

(a few days earlier)

She'd invited me back to her place. How perfect. If only this girl knew what I was capable of. I silently thank my parents for their genes. After all, I wouldn't have this much luck if I wasn't attractive now would I? Call me conceited, but it was all part of the job.

I thread my arm around her tiny waist, giving her the illusion that I am leading her. In some ways I am, yet she doesn't know that. She doesn't know that I've stalked her on numerous occasions or sat outside her window and watched her sleep. There's a lesson hidden in there kids. Don't have trees right next to your windows, especially if you never bother to  shut the curtains. The leggy blond moves swiftly, but my pace is more laid-back as we walk. I am in no hurry. She is the one that seems eager to die after all.

I imagine all of the ways I can end the life that she's barely begun. She is, what, maybe nineteen? She is definitely beneath twenty. "Daemon, we're here." Her breath hitches, and I suddenly realise that she is excited. It somehow amuses me, how naive one person can be. I nod, not offering a response as I slip my muscled arm from her. She fidgets with the door key, anxious to pull me across her doorstep. I wait, casually placing my hands into the pockets of my jeans. I momentarily wonder how long I will be able to get away with this, mercilessly killing young girls in brutal ways. But then again, the thought doesn't worry me as it would a normal person. I can only gain from this experience. I am already supposed to serve life in the asylum, so the fleeting freedom of this escapade will be seen as a short vacation for me, a holiday if you like. Obviously others don't view it that way. They don't see the thrill in hearing the last words of another human, of choosing whether to call the ambulance or watch their breaths slowly fade. But I do.

The girl, Hayley, turns back and offers me an apologetic smile, opening the door a fraction. I dip my head, entering the house that she has lived in for most of her life. I glance around the hallway as the light flickers on and I picture the faces of her relatives when they find her dead. Regrets fill me, but only for a second. I do not show remorse for these people. I chose this girl for a reason.

I'd loved her, a long time ago. Back when we were younger and still trapped in education. Before all of my actions landed me a life sentence. But you see, she chose my brother over me. And now she is paying for it. Of course, they didn't last as a couple. My brother had only done it to get back at me for beating his ass when we used to fight. We don't fight anymore. Well, how can you fight with a corpse? I smile sickeningly at the memory and hear the floorboards on the landing creak. Hayley had left me downstairs so that she could 'get changed' as she put it. I look around the room, my eyes searching. Always searching. Weapons, escape routes, security cameras. You had to be careful when you were one of the most wanted serial killers in the United Kingdom.

My body spins to the sound of shoes gracing the stairs and my eyes ravish the form before me. Well, this should be fun. Hayley stands in the doorway, her arms clasping the open archway of the lounge. Her long, honey hair falls to the small of her back and her eyes glisten, her gaze carnal. All that she wears is knee-high leather boots with stockings and a chemise that clings wonderfully to her hips. She licks her lips, her once innocent blue orbs filled with hunger. I grin to myself, realising the transformation. Oh baby, you're putting on a show for the wrong type of guy.

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