Two Were in May [ON HOLD//COMPLETE REVISION]

I

She had begged and pleaded for her life but he had no sympathy.

He tore his blade across her throat just as fiercely as her screams ripped apart the night. She fell to the floor, ankles bound together, hands tied behind her back, as blood spewed from her throat.

His back was facing her and he smirked at what he had done to this beautiful girl. He placed his blade on the wooden table by all of his other instruments. He crouched down next to the quickly dying girl and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

"Oh Victoria, darling, you were so beautiful. Why did you have to be so cruel?" He said to the now dead girl lying on his cold concrete basement floor.

He flung her body over his shoulder and put her up on the shelf next to other victims of his. He slipped a plastic bag over her head, straightened her up a little bit, and made his way towards the stairs. He stopped in the middle of the floor reaching for the chain that turned out the single uncovered lightbulb in the room.

"Goodnight, my beauties. I promise to give you a new sister tonight. Two in one night? Isn't that exciting?!?" He smiled and waved to the 32 dead young women lining the shelves in his basement. He turned off the basement light.

-

His brown hair was styled up, his leather jacket on. His outfit was all black; black t-shirt, black jeans, all black converse. He dressed like a mortal whenever he was outside his home, and he acted the part, too. He pulled his black sunglasses over his darkened brown eyes as he stepped out of his house on the countryside to his all black Harley-Davidson motorcycle. He straddled the bike and made his engine roar. Pulling out of his dirt driveway and onto miles of dirt roads, the night engulfed him and made him feel human again.

-

As soon as the bouncer opened the heavy black doors for him, the beat of the heavy club music seemed to be coming from inside his ribcage. He did 't like the feeling of something consuming him, controlling him. His hands started to shake. His long, slim fingers started to grip his hair. All the air in his lungs was whisked away and his vision was steadily becoming more hazy. 'Every fucking time.' Dylan thought to himself. He put his hand on the cold wall and leaned up against it. Steadying his eyesight for a little while, he searched for his muse.

There. He spotted her. Sitting alone at the bar with a drink in her hand. The straight expression she displayed clearly showed she was bored and lonely and that she would gladly welcome someone like Dylan to keep her company. He smiled to himself as he looked at her. Wearing a tight blue cropped halter top and a simple pair of black skinny jeans, her pieces of clothing did little to hide her curves; it seemed as if she would've liked it that way. She timidly sipped on her mysterious drink and looked towards the dance floor. He was sitting up straight now; he had his victim locked in and there was no way she would ever escape her terrible fate. His moments of panic had faded because she had calmed him. He imagined what it would be like when he killed her; would she be typical and scream? or would she silently cry her last few moments away? The thoughts crossed over his brain as he was making his way towards her. As he got closer to her, he noticed her spiky shoes. He annoyingly sighed as he knew those shoes would cause him pain sometime before she was dead.

Silently he sat down on the stool next to her. He rested his left arm on the bar and leaned in close to her ear.

"What's your name, darling?" He whispered in her ear. He didn't need to speak loudly at all. He was so close to her and his voice instantly captured all of her senses. From how his deep voice filled her mind to how his minty fresh breath awakened her from the heaviness of the party.

She immediately gasped out of shock as she gripped her drink tighter and brought her plain black clutch to her chest. She looked to the foreign man who whispered something in her ear that she had already forgotten.

Everything about him overwhelmed her. He was unbelievably attractive. Beautiful brown eyes, gorgeously tan skin, and perfectly styled brown hair she would love to rake her fingers through. She couldn't help but admire his strong arms and the sense of pride and somewhat vulnerability he carried with him like it was cologne. His nose was cute too, she thought. The only thing you would deem 'cute' about him.

"So I guess I'll just have to play the guessing game? Since you never answered my question." He said as he took the cherry from her drink and put it in his mouth.

"I, uh, I don't remember your question.." She blushed as she said this and turned her head down at her lap, fiddling with the black stir straw in her drink.

"I said," he took her chin in between his right thumb and his index finger, "what's your name, darling?"

"It's-uh-Caitlin."

"Chaste, pure."

She had a brief moment of confusion. She looked up at him to discover he was already looking at her.

"Chaste means virgin. And you're not stupid so you know what pure means. But I do have a question for you, Caitlin."

He took the cherry stem out of his mouth to show it was tied in a knot. He threw it on the floor and moved in inches away from her face. His minty breath now had a hint of alcohol that came with it. His brown eyes never parted from her hazel ones as he said,

"Just how pure are you, Caitlin?"

-

Faster than Caitlin could control, the handsome stranger had led her by hand throughout the club. He had, of course, asked her if she would dance with him, but it seemed as if he already knew she would say yes. She had barely set her drink down when he led her to the dance floor. She felt like she was in bumper cars; bodies constantly pushing her in directions she didn't want to go. This made her grip Dylan's hand tighter and he enjoyed this very much. He had already intrigued her and made her feel safe around him. That was the first step and it became easier and easier for him because of his charming and clever ways.

The DJ apparently liked older songs. His selection was mainly from earlier 2000 to about 2012. They were all fast and upbeat and she mixed the songs together very well so nobody cared. No one would've minded anyways. You were either wasted, banging someone's brains out, or having the worst time of your life. Caitlin had been occupied with having a horrible time, and she really didn't want to be involved with the other two options. Specifically option number two.

Dylan stopped near the middle of the dance floor but somewhat near the speakers. Caitlin flinched a little at the blaring music that attacked her eardrums but slowly adjusted. She saw him whisper something to the DJ and he stepped down from her platform. The DJ changed songs to Breathe Carolina's 2011 hit, 'Blackout'.

He had a specific reason for why he chose this song. It was his song. The bass filled the club walls and he could taste blood as the lyrics 'cut up, and I can't feel my hands' came from the speakers. She looked up him and froze. His stature loomed over her, but she wouldn't have chose to be with anyone else.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Unless you want to tango between all these people her, I suggest we have a little fun; you and me." His minty breath tickled her neck and she flushed. She had never done anything like this with a guy before. Dylan knew this and that was precisely why he chose her.

"I'll show you." Dylan spun her around so her back was up against her chest. He had done these things many times with many other girls. She has not. They were polar opposites in terms if innocence.

He pressed her up against him more firmly as the lyrics 'I'm only getting started,' oozed from the speakers.

He set his strong and commanding hands on her waist and told her, "Dance with me, Caitlin."

His words awakened her, and suddenly a whole evening's worth of alcohol consumption went into action. She lost herself in the music and she lost herself in him. She was putting on quite the show and Dylan knew what he was doing.

Gaining her trust, then capturing her innermost desires. He had discovered her wants. It was only a matter of time before he fulfilled his.

This was all a part of the game. He wanted people to trust him and admire him as he had done to others. Then, he would betray all of that as others had done to him. Except he took his revenge just a step further.

The song ended with the words 'I'm only getting started.' And Dylan laughed to himself at how true the words were.