Chapter 1 Fun for all

I kept screaming even though I knew it would do me no good. My throat was scratchy and bleeding, I had been screaming for hours. He didn't seem to care, he just laughed and let me go on. After a while I realised why, no one was about to hear me over the noise of the ocean, the honking ships floating past swallowed my screams. His greedy green eyes just stared at me, or more to the point through me. As if I wasn't even here, a part of me thought that maybe he wasn't all here either. I finally stopped screaming, I knew it wouldn't help me so why waste the energy? He got up and finally looked at me.

"Have you finished whore?"

I said nothing as I looked away, trying to stop the tears. I knew he wouldn't like them, the first time I cried he wrapped an electrical cord around my throat and pulled until all I saw was white spots, he pulled until I felt the life oozing from my veins and it was only then did he let go. I don't know how long I had been here, six days? A month? A year? I didn't know anymore and I guess it didn't matter now. He grabbed my cheeks hard and forced me to look at him, how I wished I didn't have to look at that evil face.

"Have you finished Kara?"

Kara. In the time I had been here I had forgotten my own name, now I was whore or bitch. Sometimes if I was really lucky he would call me slut. He grabbed my cheeks tighter until my pink tongue had slithered from my mouth.

"I asked you a question!"

I hated it when he yelled, yelling meant more pain and I wasn't sure if I could take anymore pain.

"Yes" I finally managed to get out. My own voice had changed now, no longer was I strong and confident, I was now nothing more than a broken mess trained to do his bidding. He let go of my face and went back to his tools. I hated those tools, stained with blood of the girl before me and now mine. I knew there had been others, he took great delight in telling me all about his previous girls. How he drained one blood completely and used it to paint his wall. How he had removed the bones from another girl's legs, I don't know what happened to them and I didn't want to know. I just wanted to go home. I still had it in my head that someone was going to burst through the door and save me. Hope is a powerful tool, it was the only thing that kept me going. When he came back to me he was holding a pair of blood-stained pliers, I knew those too. He used them to pull off my nipples, he didn't like my little pink nubs, now all I had was stumps that could never again be called nipples. I guess I should be thankful that I was at least still alive. He squeezed them together making me regret that I was still alive. He said nothing as he grabbed my cheeks again and forced my tongue out,

"You want to scream you little bitch? Lets give you something to scream about"

He clamped the pliers on my tongue and wrenched it from my mouth, flicking up his hunting knife I began to shake. It was plain as day what he was about to do and I didn't think I could live through this one unless he let me. All my other injuries he had fixed, I thought maybe he would let me go at some point but now I knew better, he fixed me so he could keep breaking me. He didn't care for my well being obviously. I had no way to describe the immense pain I was feeling as he cut through the soft pink flesh, I screamed but it only seemed to fuel him to cut faster. It came off and stuck to his fingers, a delighted grin crossing his face. His almost fluffy-like beard seemed to dance with the enjoyment on his face. Blood flowed faster down my chin, I tried to close my swollen lips but I couldn't, tears and blood mixed together on my face. Those green eyes looked back at me, now they were no longer happy, he was angry again and I just knew that thankfully my time with him was over. I don't know if he wanted my last night to be as pain filled as possible but thats what he made sure he did, he pulled my from chair and just started kicking at me, kicking until I heard the bones snap and my all ready bruised body gained more bruises. He just kept kicking until the life oozed from my body and I saw that infamous white light. He gave me one last kick before he pulled back, heaving and sweating. He spat on my bruised body as though I disgusted him. I didn't care anymore. I was free at last.

Dean Ambrose hurled the bloody package into his truck, he knew what it was but confronting his best friend meant answers to questions that he wasn't brave enough to ask. So he just loaded it up pretending it was a deer carcass and headed to the dumping ground. He had to admit that some people were so stupid, so far he had dumped his 'deer' in pretty much the same spot and the police had never asked him about it. Then again they were probably too busy trying to catch his best friend. Dean quickly disposed of the 'deer' and headed back home, he all ready had enough blood on his hands, he didn't need more.

When Dean got back, his friend was brushing his dual coloured locks as though nothing had happened. Dean looked his friend up and down, tight jeans and a nice shirt. He was hunting again.

"You're hunting again"

He gave Dean a smug grin "What gave me away Dean?"

"Why are you hunting again?"

"To replace the one I killed. Duh!"

"Ever thought of, you know, stopping?"

He gave him a harsh look before softening, Dean had been a loyal friend to him. It didn't seem to matter what he did, Dean was there supporting him, hell he even helped him take out the trash. There was no friend more loyal that Dean, for that he was thankful.

"I wish I could stop Dean but I can't" He gave Dean an almost sad look, like he hated what he was doing. Dean wasn't that stupid, he knew his friend didn't care about the lives he took. Or at least he would try harder to control his raging impulses.

He let out a chuckle, his hair now forgotten as he wrapped an arm around Dean's shoulders, "Maybe I'm just an evil bastard that didn't get enough hugs from Mommy?"

"Your mother loved you plenty"

"Or maybe Daddy beat me up every day whilst drunk?"

Dean rolled his eyes "You had a perfect childhood growing up, there should be no psychological reason as to why you like to kill people"

He let out that eerie grin again "Maybe I'm just evil, plain and simple and nothing more." He checked his watch like he was late.
"I should go before all the hot ones are gone. Don't wait up Dean!"

Dean could only shake his head knowing that his friend would come back with a new girl and once again he would be dumping her like the trash she was.

When he got to the club, his hunting ground, he thought more about what Dean had said, maybe he should stop doing this and get some help. He shook it away as he entered the hunting ground, maybe one more wouldn't hurt? His body moved to the music against his will, he couldn't help it, it was infectious. His dual coloured locks flying madly. He found his feet moving towards the bar, drunk girls were usually eaiser to get back home. He hated easy. He wanted a challenge. Not just hunting one, but torturing as well. His usual girls broke too easily, within minutes they were broken and willing to do what ever he wanted. Not to mention the crying and screaming annoyed him to no end. Ok, so a little bit of screaming he understood but to scream the entire time, at least have a little bit of a thresh hold for pain. Weren't women meant to have a high thresh hold for pain given the fact that they were the ones popping out babies. And yet he hadn't found one that could with stand his torture for more than five minutes.

He was about to give up, about to let the women feel safe for tonight when he saw her. A raven-haired beauty with legs up to her face. Subtle yet difinitive pouting breasts and the greenest of eyes. He felt his mouth grow moist as he kept looking over her. All actions of moving on and letting women sleep easy now lay forgotten. He had to have this one.

He had too...