The POV will switch between Jeff and Christina in third person. I will not say when the change occurs and simply write the story in third person omniscient. I hope it is still easy to follow. Please let me know if there is confusion or a misunderstanding and I will go and correct any mistakes.
Special Shout Out to Dustin. Without her beta reading, this would have never been published. Consider her the Co-Author of this story.
.o.o.o.
The girl danced to the booming music with her eyes closed. Her leather sleeved arms were up in the air, as if being pulled by an invisible string that was sending guiding tremors down the rest of her twisting and swaying body. Her leather mini-jacket covered the most sensual parts of her, but left her stomach and much of her cleavage open for all eyes to see. She worse tight black shorts that reached down to her knees. The girl danced alone on the floor, in the middle of a group of other sweaty dancing bodies. Her thoughts were drowned out by the heavy bass and techno-like voice coming from the speakers around the room.
This wasn't her first night here, dancing as her body became almost numb from the alcohol she had consumed. This was how Christina spent most of her Friday and Saturday nights, drunk, and dancing alone to forget her life. From the moment the club opened at seven at night until two in the morning when it closed, she could always be found indulging in socially acceptable self-destructive behavior. Drinking dangerous amounts of alcohol, dancing until you're dizzy, and hooking up with random men who want to use you was socially acceptable emotional and physical self destructive behavior that no one ever questioned.
A large body pressed up against Christina's back, their hands grabbed her waist and pulled her into them. Christina didn't question the person, instead she leaned back and began to grind herself into the bulge she felt poking against her clothed ass.
"I've seen you here every Saturday night for weeks now. You're always alone. I thought you could use some company," a gruff male's voice spoke into her ear.
Christina smirked as she danced against the man holding her, enjoying the physical contact. "How sweet of you," she replied with a smooth glide against him.
A hand snaked around her waist and lowered to her inner thigh. The calloused hand gave a tight squeeze, to which Christina resisted wincing out from the stinging pain that shot through from his touch. He was simply groping her, not even that roughly, she couldn't risk showing discomfort. The young woman began to grind herself again her company in rhythm to the song. Her thoughts were absent as she danced with the man, simply enjoying the physical contact and trying to not wince out in pain or tense up when his hands gripped certain areas of her body.
Much to her comfort, the pain began to guide her through the dancing sweaty bodies. Still without turning around to see the man, Christina followed his guidance to the edge of the dance floor. Soon the two were on the edge and squeezed out of the many bodies. Christina turned to look at her companion but before she was given a chance, his hand took hold of her wrist and she was being led down a dark hall, further into the club. Christina followed without question as she took in is appearance from behind. He was large and muscular, as if he had built his body up for football when he was younger. The man wore dark blue jeans and a black shirt, his semi-long hair in a low pony-tail at his shoulders.
The two went into a dark room, and instantly Christina was pushed up against the shut door, a mouth trailing down her neck. She breathed in deeply as she closed her eyes and allowed her head to lean back against the wall. She let her arms wrap around the larger man who was now biting her neck. The man's hands began to travel down her body, finally coming to a place between her legs. Christina's breath hitched as the man snuck his hand into her tight shorts and cupped around her underwear. She gasped out, her eyes widening from the contact, then instantly froze.
"S-s-st-st-st-op," she stuttered out, her eyes widening in fear, as the man's fingers moved the thin clothing out of his way and began to rub against a small bundle of sensitive nerves.
"Hhhhmmm," was her only reply as the man began to bite down harder on her neck and suck.
Christina began to shake slightly, whether from the sensations going through her from the man's touch or from what her eyes were seeing, she wasn't sure.
"St-stop!"
The man in front of her pulled his head away and looked at her scared face, his fingers momentarily pausing in their movement."What's the problem," he grumbled.
However, Christina was not looking at him; her eyes were trained to something else behind her partner.
"I've always loved these large clubs. So many people, everyone drunk, and music so loud you can't hear anyone scream. It's the perfect place."
The man pulled her hand out from Christina's shorts and whipped himself around, coming face to face with another male.
"Go to sleep!"
Christina froze in shock as her companion was stabbed, the sound of flesh squishing as he was stabbed again and again echoing in the dark room. Finally, there was silence. The young woman stared at the man she hadn't taken her eyes off of since noticing him. He was slightly taller than her, with long dark brown hair that swept forward unevenly. He wore what appeared to be black jeans and a white hoodie, now stained with the warm vibrant red liquid that had spewed from her companion.
With a soft 'thud', the large body fell to the ground at her feet. The sound momentarily snapped her out of her stupor before a cold hand gripped her neck and pushed her into the door.
"You're quite beautiful for a whore, a bit modest for one too," he cackled in a hoarse voice.
Christina stared at the man holding her, his white hood was pulled over his head, covering much of his face along with the thick brown locks. Her heart beat fast against her chest as if it was going to break out, yet her body remained calm.
'He…he just killed him,' she thought to herself, 'This guy… he doesn't even care…'
"Since you're beautiful, I'll give you an option in how I kill you. Would you like a smile to enhance your looks, or for me to cut your head off," he began to laugh.
Christina stood there, her heart continuing to pound as her body and mind remained calm.
'This is my chance.'
"However you want," Christina whispered, her eyes becoming glazed over as she thought of her impending death.
"Oh? Not going to beg for your life, are you?"
Christina's heart began to move at a slow-paced jog, the muscles in her body becoming less tense. In a matter of a few short seconds, Christina was no longer trying to hold herself up; instead gravity was pulling the weight of her body down as she relaxed. The only thing holding Christina upright, was the tight grip of the cold hand around her neck.
"Please kill me," she whispered out, a grateful warmth in her voice.
The killer tensed, his chuckling now silent. He was quiet as he stared at her through the gaps of his hair. Confusion, anger, and curiosity bubbled in his stomach and spread to his mind like wildfire.
"You want to die," he questioned in a hoarse whisper, his fingers tightening around her neck. Most of his victims would be begging for their lives, or at the very least struggling in his hold. Yet this woman seemed to be completely calm, even somewhat relieved. The murderer stared into her glassy eyes, not a sliver of the familiar fear he relished in was apparent in her eyes. Instead, he saw a different emotion that made him uncomfortable, something he hadn't seen someone look at him with in some time.
Hope.
"Yes," the relaxed woman croaked out, the tight grip around her neck making it difficult to speak.
The butcher stayed in his position for a moment, contemplating the look he saw in her eyes, his thoughts, and his own natural urges. Something was different. He had killed angsty teens before who seemed to have a death wish, but even they had struggled at some point or shown fear to him. This woman however, wasn't struggling at all, fear absent from her eyes. It unnerved him.
Christina groaned in pain by the impact of her shoulder slamming into the hard ground.
"You're not worth my time," the male growled and then exited the room.
Christina laid there on the ground clutching her bruising arm. She was going to be killed. She was supposed to be killed. The man was going to save her the pain, struggle, and effort to kill herself. He was going to make up for all the times that she had been a coward and failed. But here she was, lying on the ground, air going in and out of her functioning lungs.
A cry of despair escaped her chapped lips.
'No! No! This was my chance! He was supposed to kill me! He killed the other guy! What makes me so special! He-'
Then it registered. A man had just been stabbed to death and was laying a few feet away from her. Christina shot up and backed away from the body which was soaking in a pool of blood. The long-awaiting fear and adrenaline began to pump through her blood, causing her to run out of the room and get help from the bar tender.
.o.o.o.
First chapter. What do you all think? The song for this chapter is Chandelier by Sia for multiple reasons that I will leave for you to guess. If you keep reading though, you will understand why this song fits perfectly. I personally prefer the live acoustic cover of Chandelier by the youtube account unexpectedsunday. Look that version up at some point, you won't be disappointed.