She was screaming.
It was like music to his ears, he loved it when they screamed. The terror in their eyes and then the final look they would send him, the one that was responsible for their pain. That one look was what he was doing this for. The one filled with resentment, hate and most of all finality. They knew they were going to die and there was nothing they could do about it. It was that what he was looking for. The one moment when all became clear to them and they accepted their fate.
It was then when he would deal the final blow, they did not deserve to die by his hands unless they showed him that look. He could keep up his tortures for days on end. He had been down there with this woman now for almost 48 hours and he was still going, even if there seemed to be an impossible amount of blood around them. He knew that keeping her alive for another day wouldn't be a problem.
Picking up one of the larger hunting knives lying on a table nearby he watched as the woman's blue eyes dilated even more.
She could be classified as beautiful, even gorgeous, but he didn't care. All of his victims were different. He didn't go for any certain look or social status.
That was what made him dangerous. He was unpredictable, fickle even, what the police would classify as cereal killers did not apply to him. He was on a whole new level of murders.
Observing the woman before him while fingering the sharp blade in thought, he tilted his head.
Her once blonde hair was matted with the red of her blood. Her former clear eyes were bloodshot and puffy from the crying. Her flawless body was no more. Her palms were pierced through the center holding her to the table she was on, the knives impossible to move unless the hand was cut up even more. There were multiple cuts littering her arms and legs. The ones on her pelvis and armpits where strategically placed there to create the most pain with minimal damage to the body. Her red painted nails were lying on the floor, all twenty of them becoming lost among the blood. The burns on her abdomen were starting to get infected, even if he had burnt her skin to close larger wounds the burns would create more pain and only lengthen her pain.
Making up his mind he walked closer to her holding the knife with skilled hands. She screamed and begged as he slowly cut the skin covering her collarbone. Cutting double lines he pealed the lump of skin off allowing the large but shallow wound to bleed freely.
He always marked them as his. It was the one thing he would allow himself to indulge in. Taking in his handy work he knew that the time had come.
Thrusting the knife into her body was easy. He knew where to stab her for the most effective results. Knowing that he had pierced the bottom of her left lung, he looked her in the eyes. The knowledge that she was feeling her lung fill with her own blood slowly drowning her was thrilling for him.
Picking up a small but sharp scalpel he watched as realization came over her.
That was it, the look he was waiting for.
Standing as close to her as he humanly could with the hunter knife embedded into her, he absorbed it.
Those eyes were one of many that he would remember and smile over for years to come. He would never forget the ones he killed and their eyes were the thing he recalled the most. Pushing the scalpel in her chest he saw the pain and the life leaving her eyes.
His smile would be the last thing she would see and even in death his image would hunt her.
A/N: Yeah, this was my attempt to write something disturbing and creepy about a year ago and according to some of my friends I managed it rather nicely.
It would be great if you'd tell me what you thought of it :)
And maybe tell me who you were imagining as the torturer and the tortured as I have no idea who they are supposed to be, I just wanted to post it ;P
