Into the Woods

Chapter 8

The Killer
**Trigger Warning**
Violence Against Women

I didn't spend nearly enough time as I wanted to with my sweet, sweet Julie. I heard one of the women say that they were returning to their vehicle to get help to find Julie. I don't think so. I tossed Julie's body over a branch above in the tree, where she breathed her last hot breath, and made my way closer to the other women.

I see the brunette cross back over the creek and follow her closely but stay far enough away to remain unseen. I see an opportunity to get ahead of her and lay in wait. Come on, baby, just a little further. I see her checking her phone for a signal and take this as my opportunity to run up to her and tackle her to the ground. Her phone flies out of her hand. Before she can start to scream, I place my blood-soaked hands over her mouth.

Her brunette hair smells like strawberries. Fuck! I could eat this bitch up! I can't help the growl that comes from deep within me. The blonde was sweet and alluring, but this woman was exotic. Her beauty is unmistakable, and I can't wait to rip it from her.

While keeping my hand securely over her mouth, I wrap my other arm under her arms and pull her from the path. My one hand is on her ample breast. I can't help but give it a firm squeeze as she writhes in pain; my cock instantly hardens. Her breasts are much larger than sweet Julie's, and I can't wait to mutilate them.

I plan on taking my time with this one. Instead of knocking the brunette out, I lay her on the ground and stuffed my government-issued tee-shirt deep into her mouth. I hate that, just like Julie, I can't relish in the sound of her soul-soothing screams. Her gagging noises make me smile. Her eyes are wide with fear.

Regretting that I wasn't able to take my time with Julie, I wonder for just a second what this beauty's name is. It doesn't matter if I know her name or not. It's just good to put a name on my victims' faces as I relive their demise.

I quickly pull her sweatshirt up over her head and pin her arms down to the ground with my knees. I see her face scrunch up from the agony of the pain from my total weight upon her arms. With my hands now free, I rip her bra off of her chest.

Taking a moment to admire her plump breasts I place them in my hands and crush them while pinching her pink, pebbled nubs hard. She is twisting and crying out in pain. I smirk at her muffled screams, which get me going almost as much as if I heard it at its full decibels.

I pull the sharp stick that I used on Julie out of the pocket that I stuck it in and grin when I see it's still wet with Julie's blood. Hmmm. Where to start? I decided to begin on her soft, silky arms. I insert the blood-slicked stick deep into the fleshy part of her upper arm. Slowly and methodically, I pull the stick down her freckled arm and chuckle as I imagine myself playing connect the dots. As I scrape and impale her milky flesh, blood trickles down her arm. I'm amazed at how each victim's blood creates patterns as it oozes from their wounds.

Once I complete my art on her arms, I move to her flat stomach. It's the point where many of my victims pass out from the pain that I inflict upon them. Will this brown-haired beauty impress me with her strength, or will she pass out like my weaker prey? I press my stick into her pliable abdomen, and it slides in quickly as I put more and more pressure on it. I carve and slice jagged edges into my canvas. I'm used to the smooth edges that my knife creates, but I find these rough edges intriguing.

After finishing my masterpiece on her stomach her squirming has stopped. I wonder if she has disappointed me and passed out from her suffering. I look and see that her eyes are closed and know just how to find out if she has indeed passed out.

I raise my weapon and slam into the center of her breast, piercing her rosy bud with my bloody stick. It smoothly impales her. Her eyes flew open, and her back arched in agony. There's my girl. I continue to stab holes in both breasts. That's her undoing; she passes out either from her pain or the blood loss from her wounds.

Pulling down her pants, I continue my assault on the rest of her body but save her gorgeous face for last. When I'm satisfied with my work, I puncture her carotid artery and hear a shriek coming from the direction of the creek. I quickly toss my beauty over the branches to finish bleeding out and make my way back in the direction that I heard that fantastic scream just moments ago.

I smirk. Ready or not, here I come.

*****