A/N: Here's the full summary of the fic: A man is killing young college girls, becoming more vicious each time. Phillip "Pip" Pirrip is on the case, but each rare clue leads him to one man: his ex-flame Damien Thorne. After all, the brunette will disappear for hours at a time, with no believable alibi and the one witness to one of the murders describe seeing red eyes fleeing the scene. Not to mention the killer murders the girls the same way Damien's novels end...before they appear on the shelf.
Happy reading!
Long legs, slender body, wavy, obsidian hair cascading halfway down her back…walking alone in the dark. She is asking for something bad to happen if you ask him. He is only going to teach her a lesson.
He waits until she comes closer but miscalculates his move, coming out of the shadows too soon and she bumps into him. She mutters a quick apology, barely glancing his way as she shuffles through the stack of papers in her hands and keeps going. Another wave of hatred rushes through him. How dare she ignore him? Is he not good enough for a proper apology? That princess definitely needs a lesson or two. He quickly yet silently chases after her and soon his hand collides with the soft skin on the back of her neck and she slumps to the ground, unconscious.
He grins wickedly as he picks her up. Now all he needs is a crime scene….
~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~
He watches her struggle to pry the large fingers from her neck. There is never a moment when he feels more alive than when he is watching someone's last breaths. However he isn't doing this for just that reason. He doesn't need her screaming at the next part.
Right before the final breath will be exhaled, he breaks away from her neck. His amber eyes sparkle with mirth as he watches the relieved, shuddering breath filling her grateful lungs. He enjoys how she looks up at him hopefully, wondering if he will finally let her go. But out of all this, the thing he enjoys the most is when her beautiful, widened jade eyes roll back in her head as his head as his blade slowly and methodically cut through the flesh and bone of her arm. He continues this process, never stopping for a gurgled plea or strangled moan. He doesn't stop until all four of her limbs are detached from her torso, her face almost torn apart and almost all the girl's blood surrounds her. Using the pooled liquid, he spells out a message for the police who will find her later on.
Standing, he admires his handiwork. Soon it will be destroyed by flashing, noisy police sirens and covered by messy caution tape, but that is alright. He doesn't want to get upset by such a trivial thing. He only needs to wait until he reaches the one he wants. And he will too. After all, his mother always told him good things come to those who wait. In the meantime, he can satisfy his urges to killing as many girls as he can, staying just out sight. A slow smile graces his lips.
He has time. He just needs to be patient.
A/N: Finally back up guys! Sorry for the long wait. I'm going to write the scenes with the killer in present tense because I read somewhere that doing so helps build suspense. I came up with this idea from waking up from a dream that had nothing to do with this and when I looked at a corner of my room, there was a young, raven-haired woman who had all her limbs chopped off and just sitting in a pool of her own blood.
On a light-hearted note, I'm currently working on a Hetalia fic. (For those who don't know what I'm talking about, please look it up. It's the cutest little anime I've ever seen.) Alright, until next time!
Yours in literature,
~theflawintheplan