Chapter 1

November 8th 1988

She was used to this...

The cold, empty feeling she experienced as she woke, once again, to find her bed void of any life other than her own. The disturbed bed sheets the only evidence of her gentleman caller as she sat upright and pulled a pack of cigarettes from the bed side table. Swinging her feet over the edge of the bed she held the cigarette, taking it in her lips as her hand shot forward, grabbing the Zippo lighter, the naked flame sparking into a sudden existence as she struck the flint. Taking a deep breath she inhaled the acrid smoke through the filter and closed her eyes, removing her black nylons before standing carefully from the unmade bed and beginning to walk, grimacing as the events of the previous night took their toll, pain shooting throughout her midriff. Entering the living room of the tiny, one bed apartment she felt her heart drop as she found the room empty, the silence knocking the wind from her sails, any semblance of optimism shot down in flames. Chucky had played her for a fool once again, calling by at his own convenience, seducing her with romantic words, promises of a brighter future, his highly strung demeanour giving way briefly and allowing a playful, romantic side to shine through. Or so she thought...

She thought he'd changed... But then she realised...

He'd never change...

November 9th 1988

The drizzle hung in the air, cool on the face as Tiffany prowled the streets, the soft breeze whipping around her stockings and up the incredibly short, tight, black dress she had thrown on before leaving her apartment. Tonight had been pretty uneventful so far. The roads clear of traffic as she emerged from the filthy, piss stained alley and into the neon tinted light of the street, hanging right and heading towards the movie theatre. She figured she'd been out almost an hour as she passed the electrical goods store, the TVs in the window playing to the empty street from behind a wall of ventilated steel, the shutters rolled down fully, the filthy Chicago neighbourhood home to more than a handful of less trustful characters. As she walked on she picked up the pace, opening her tiny black handbag, fishing around before retrieving the small compact mirror, flipping it open to reveal a mirror and a small bag of cocaine lying atop the various shades of foundation and eye shadow. Stopping on the spot, she opened the small bag and emptied the contents across the mirror, leaning forward, a finger pressed against one of her nostrils, holding it shut as the other remained open, hovering up the line of sweet white powder, the rush hitting her almost instantly. Not too much, but enough to put an extra spring in her step as she started to slowly walk on, discarding the now empty bag and staring at herself in the mirror, carefully touching up her makeup as she walked on. She'd not made it to the movie theatre when she heard the distant humming of an engine, far behind her in the distance, slowing before turning down the street and following her. Before long, the car pulled up alongside her, Tiffany not giving it a second glance as she carried on walking, eyes dead ahead. Suddenly the window squeaked audibly as the driver leaned over and wound down the glass.

"Hey baby!" He yelled as he leaned across the passenger seat of the beat up old Sedan. "You wanna party with a real man?"

Looking back over her left shoulder and spying the decrepit automobile, Tiffany gave a cackle of laughter and waved her hand, dismissing the loudmouth.

"Sure I do..." His eyes lit up as she spoke. "Let me know if you find one." She gave a giggle again as she stopped walking, spinning to look the guy dead in the eye as she rested her back against one of the various storefront windows, lifting her leg and flashing the top of her stockings, the soles of her heels pressed against the bare brickwork of the store.

"You fucking whore!" The guy shouted as he gave the car some gas, accelerating away as a thick plume of smoke clouded behind, the engine burning oil heavily.

She laughed to herself once more, the drugs beginning to dance around her system as she again reached into her bag, pulling out a cigarette and sparking it into life, the rush of the nicotine hitting her lungs enough to make her head spin. It was as she stood, her head gently flitting from left to right, that she breathed in the smoke and took a look around, finally noticing how serene the evening had become. Standing with her back pressed against the brickwork of the rundown building she felt the wind pick up as she looked at the clouds gathering above, the fork of lightning ejected from the heavens with such ferocity, an explosion echoing across the city as the storm exploded through the heavens, seemingly out of nowhere. Suddenly she found herself startled, her head turning instinctively as two Chicago PD squad cars raced down Wabash Avenue, lights flashing, sirens blaring as the cars passed the end of the narrow street Tiffany found herself occupying. The rain started to hit the sidewalk, softly at first, but within a minute it was bouncing well over two feet from the ground as she held her hand bag over her head, a valiant effort, but not enough as the drops of water started to soak her to the bone. As she looked for shelter she spun her head, noticing the headlights hang a right at the end of the street, where the movie theatre sat, and approach her through the downpour. Her luck seemed to be in as the Ferrari slowed to a stop, the windscreen wipers working overtime as the engine roared underneath the hood of the immaculate vehicle. As she stood, increasingly drenched as the seconds ticked by, the driver's window slowly lowered itself as a face emerged. Late fifties, grey hair, suited and booted, the gentleman behind the wheel was obviously a successful man. Why he was crawling the kerbs in this particular neighbourhood was anybody's guess, but Tiffany had heard every excuse under the sun. The wife, no longer understanding and giving her husband a free pass to no strings sex. The business man with so much stress that he just needs to find an outlet, and if he can help a poor young girl in the meantime, all the better. She'd heard all the excuses, and although she was by no means high class, she did set out each night targeting the wealthier clientele, and it looked like she'd just struck the jackpot.

"You know you're gonna catch your death out there." The man smiled as he looked at her, turning the radio of the Ferrari down a touch.

Tiffany played dumb, choosing to simply smile as the rain lashed her body, soaking her to the bone and making her already tight dress cling to her body even more. She lifted her hand and swept her hair away from her face as the man spoke again.

"What's your name?" He asked, breaking the silence.

"Tiffany." She replied as the rain cascaded down her face.

"Well Tiffany it appears we have a problem." He stroked his chin, the stubble, built up over the course of the day, irritating him.

"Do we?" She asked, her eyes widening a touch as her sexy, voice floated through the air.

"We do indeed." He answered. "See... I'm not from around here, and I really need a friendly face to keep me company tonight."

"I see." Tiffany replied once more.

"Let's cut the bullshit." He spoke honestly. "How much for the night?"

Straight to the point, she liked that...

"$200." She answered immediately, examining his reaction. The man behind the wheel cast his eyes towards his lap, the money in his hand as he counted. Within a matter of seconds he turned back to her, holding aloft a wad of notes as he spoke.

"What say we call it $300... And you show me something none of the other girls ever could?" He smiled.

"I think that can be arranged." She smiled as she used her heel to push herself away from the wall, smoothing her dress out as she approached the passenger side of the car, her heels clicking on the tarmac as she allowed her ass to roll seductively. Opening the door and climbing inside, her new friend admired her curvy figure, her legs among the most beautiful he had ever laid eyes on.

"You're not a cop are you?" She asked as she grabbed the handle of the door, pausing as she was about to pull it shut.

"No baby, don't worry." He laughed.

"Because you have to tell me if you are." She slammed the door shut.

"Relax," He turned his attention back to the car. "You have somewhere we can go?"

"I have an apartment." She answered. "It's not much, but..."

"It'll do for what we need right?" He laughed.

Tiffany nodded as she felt for the seatbelt, pulling it across her chest and hearing the 'click' from the housing down by her left thigh. The client dipped the clutch and put the car in gear, the rain hammering against the windscreen as he revved the engine.

"Let's go have some fun." He grinned as he tossed the money in her lap, releasing the clutch as the car sped off down the street.

"You have no idea..." Tiffany whispered to herself as she allowed a smirk to cross her face.

No sooner had they fallen through the front door of Tiffany's damp riddled apartment when she felt his hands moving over her ass cheeks, the fingers sinking in as he felt the firm, tender flesh hiding beneath the short dress adorning her incredible figure. He leaned in and kissed her neck, Tiffany pulled away, a playful smile as she spun around and held him at arms length.

"That's extra..." She whispered seductively.

Digging into the inside pocket of his jacket, the man removed his wallet, a wedding ring falling from the silk lining and hitting the floor, rolling off towards the bedroom door as the man noticed and gave pursuit.

'Married...' She thought to herself, disgust spreading throughout her.

He finally dropped to his knees and grabbed the ring, picking it up, eyeing it with care and attention. As he knelt on the uncarpeted floor of the hall, Tiffany's legs suddenly appeared before him, her hands on her hips as she stood, a slight bend in her right leg, the sole of her heel playfully twisting into the bare wood. As his eyes made their way up her thighs, across her waist and heaving breasts, pushed up by the tight fitting chest of the dress, they eventually stopped at her face as she playfully bit her lip and swung the bedroom door fully open, the dimly lit ambience of the room spelling out all manner of sexual bliss. As she stared back, his eyes perfectly fixed on her, she nodded slightly towards the bedroom, her client's excitement getting the better of him as he fumbled the ring back into his jacket pocket and stood, a smile appearing as he made his way into the run down bedroom.

"I guess this'll do..." He sneered as he looked around, the intimate lighting going completely unappreciated as he took his jacket and tossed it over a chair sat in the corner of the stagnant bedroom. Without saying another word he began to undo his tie, the knot falling to pieces in his hands as he feverishly fiddled with it. Meanwhile, Tiffany made her way down the side of the bed and to her bedside table, opening the top drawer and removing a jar, the multiple colours within reminding her 'guest' of a jar of candy. Snapping the lid from the jar, Tiffany reached inside and removed a piece of foil, blue in colour and square, the man instantly recognising the contents. She threw the condom on the bed as the man spoke once more, undoing the buttons of his expensive looking white shirt.

"How much to go bareback?" He asked, zero emotion in either his tone or his expression.

Smiling, Tiffany leaned forward over the bed, her breasts almost cascading from the top of her dress as she calmly grabbed the unused condom and placed it back in the jar.

"Consider it 'on me'." She replied, her voice music to his ears.

As his shirt dropped to the floor, he kicked off his shoes and began to unbuckle his belt, Tiffany casually walking past and running her fingers across his bare chest as she spoke, her voice now a whisper, sensual.

"Everything off." She grinned, his pulse beginning to race as she felt his heart ever so slightly, banging beneath his ribs, the excitement of the moment having the desired effect.

Leaving the room, her heels clicking constantly as she made her way down the hall, the man tore off his pants and removed his underwear, quickly jumping onto the bed, his erection standing proud as he waited for her to return. Sure enough, within minutes she appeared in the door way, her hair hanging slightly over her face, her dress missing as she stood before him, her bra, thong and stockings leaving very little to the imagination as she leaned against the frame of the door and held her hand aloft, an assortment of handcuffs, chains and whips clenched in her palm.

"Jesus!" He gasped, excitement, exhilaration and anticipation all present in his beaming grin, his face wrinkling under the strain of the smile now aimed at her.

"You said you wanted something nobody else could give you." She smirked.

"Hell yeah!" He laughed. "Fuck, yeah!"

Walking slowly forward, her breasts wobbling with every step Tiffany reached the foot of the bed and grabbed one of his legs, looking into his eyes as she clamped one of the chains around his ankle and secured him to the bed post, moving onto the other without ever letting her eyes leave his. Within a matter of seconds she had finished, his lower body now completely shackled to the frame of the king sized bed. As she walked down the side of the bed she sat beside him, his hand instantly shooting out and running up and down her leg, gliding over her stockings and trembling as he reached the top, continuing on as he very gently touched the lace of her black thong. Suddenly Tiffany grabbed his hand and shook her head as she started securing his wrist, the handcuff crashing down and almost breaking his bone, such was the force she used.

"That's naughty." She carried on shaking her head as she stood and turned, leaning over him, one knee digging into the mattress beside his chest as she repeated the same procedure, both his arms now completely restrained.

"Oh Jesus..." He smiled, letting his head flop back as he closed his eyes, his voice breaking slightly as he waited for her to climb on top of him.

Only she didn't...

He opened his eyes just as Tiffany grabbed his chin, lifting his head and squeezing his cheeks together, his mouth opening in shock as she held her hand aloft, her thong now removed and dangling in her hands. Without saying another word he smiled as best he could as she forced her underwear into his mouth, this sadistic act of ridicule serving only to get him even more excited as, from nowhere, Tiffany produced a roll of tape and tore a strip off, placing it across his mouth and smoothing it down with her hand. Looking into his eyes, she smiled once more and spoke.

"Are you ready?" She asked.

As he lay there, his penis throbbing to the point of causing an amazing kind of pain, he could do no more than nod his head and breathe heavily through his nose as Tiffany stood and made her way to the foot of the bed, disappearing for a second, before suddenly reappearing. Leaning forward she began to crawl up the bed, making her way towards him, filling the gap between his restrained, parted thighs. He took in the vision of beauty crawling towards his quivering body as she stopped and knelt up, removing her bra and giving him a prime view of her magnificent breasts as she winked at him, her body naked, except for the stockings adorning her elegant legs.

"Close your eyes..." She whispered as she tilted her head slightly.

The 'client' threw his head back, sinking into the pillow as he clamped his eyes tightly shut, feeling Tiffany move near his waist as he finally felt it happening...

Only this wasn't right...

This didn't feel normal...

This felt terrible in fact, the man's face contorting into an uncomfortable look as the pain began to spread upwards, through his stomach and over his chest, suddenly reaching his mouth as he opened his eyes and tried his hardest to scream, the lace and cotton securely fastened between his lips preventing him from making anything other than a low, yet intense, murmur. As his eyes flew open he looked at her, still kneeling there, knife in hand as she bit her lip in that playful manner that had just moments ago turned him on so much, delicately twisting the point of the knife into the palm of her opposite hand as she looked on. Between blinks of his eyes, as sweat started to appear across his face, he noticed her free hand reach down to his genitals, flinching at the sudden jolt of agony, the pain once more shooting up, clearer this time, searing through every fibre of his being. He opened his eyes once more as he began to panic, shock washing over him at the sight that greeted his eyes. Tiffany held her hands aloft and gave a small cackle of laughter, rocking backwards slightly, a bloodstained knife in one hand, the man's scrotum in the other, sliced clean off as the testicles hung free from the skin of his sac, the two chunks of red and purple gristle dangling by a solitary blood vessel each as the blood began to drain from his former body part. He began to feel cold, like ice, as the colour left his face, Tiffany taking great pleasure in holding his hacked off scrotum above his chest and squeezing the blood from within, running free as she turned his testicles into a bloody pulp before releasing her grip and letting them fall, eventually coming to a rest on his chest, his eyes growing wide in horror. Suddenly he started struggling, his arms flailing as he tried with every bit of strength to get free, his legs kicking as the pain began to grow, stronger and stronger with every kick, the bed beginning to bang against the wooden floor of the bedroom, the chains making all manner of noise as the man struggled, desperately fighting to break free. As Tiffany knelt back, letting the cheeks of her peachy backside rest on the heels of her stocking clad feet, she leaned to the side and grabbed her bra, quickly fastening it around her back before slipping her arms through the straps and adjusting for comfort. Looking down, she could see the blood, pooling around where his genitals once sat, pride of place on his disgusting, dishonest body, the penis still very much attached as it lay dead, flopping this way, then that as the man continued to struggle, convulsing in both rage and shock as the noise from the bed and the chains cancelled out what little noise was allowed to escape his mouth. Before long Tiffany had to stand, the blood flowing over the foot of the bed as tiny bits also started seeping over each side, the man's legs acting as a fleshy dam as he struggled, the torrents of blood staining his legs a maroon shade as he started to tire. Spinning on the spot, the entertainment on offer beginning to bore her slightly, Tiffany skipped over to the chair in the corner of the room and reached into the jacket pocket, withdrawing the mystery man's wallet and wedding ring. Opening the wallet, Tiffany was amused to find pictures. A woman, children, obviously the family of the man dying before her right now, staring back at her with a childish happiness she was completely unfamiliar with. Flicking past the pictures, she soon discovered his driving license, the man's name apparently Keith, fifty four years old and from the well to do area in the north of the city. Behind the pictures and license Tiffany discovered a wad of notes, yanking them out quickly and counting through them. Mainly fifties, the odd twenty, her female intuition had been spot on as she counted the better part of $8,000 in notes. Of course, when somebody pulls up in a flash car, immaculate suit and throws a few hundred dollars at you like it's loose change, their isn't really much intuition involved, but nevertheless, she remained happy with the nights work. Chucky would be happy, the ring alone would cover the month's rent as she squinted at the hallmark etched along the inside diameter of the gold wedding band. It was at this point that a neighbour from one of the occupied apartments above started hammering on the floor, the pounding echoing through Tiffany's ceiling and making her jump.

"Valentine!" The voice hollered through the floorboards. "Keep it down you fucking whore!"

The noise from the bed had picked up slightly as she had become engrossed in the contents of the wallet. She had been careless in that regard, but luckily enough there was still time to rectify that error. Returning to the bed, Tiffany grabbed the knife from the mattress and hurried to the head of the bed, Keith squirming still as she simply ran the blade across his throat, blood spilling across his chest as his eyes looked into hers as if to ask 'why?' It took less than ten seconds before the body ceased struggling and remained lifeless across the bed. That was the hard bit done as far as she was concerned. All that mattered now was to get rid of the fucking creep and be done with it, no trail, nothing. Leaving the room with a smile across her face and a happy feeling filling her sadistic little heart Tiffany headed to the kitchen, the meat cleaver resting in the cutlery drawer her intended target as she danced past the living room door, her feet moving quickly across the bare wood. As she passed, she glanced inside, the TV playing to itself, as it often did just in case anybody should drop by and find her 'indisposed'.

That was the moment she noticed it.

Subconsciously at first, not registering until she had more or less reached the kitchen, making her stop dead in her tracks and freeze. She slowly walked backwards, her footsteps lacking the enthusiasm that had been present just seconds before as she reached the living room door again, taking in the sight as the WDOL nine o'clock news played to itself in the corner of the room, the only light in the room emanating from the flickering picture of the TV set. She couldn't believe it, almost breaking down as her spine stiffened, the blood rushing from her face as the ice cold feeling enveloped her and seemed to submerge her under a wave of disbelief. The headline scrolling across the bottom of the screen was dancing from right to left as though taunting her, just as she thought things were going to be alright, ripping the carpet of life right out from under her feet.

LAKESHORE STRANGLER DEAD: CHARLES LEE RAY GUNNED DOWN

Unable to speak, Tiffany sank to the floor, sitting open mouthed as she looked at the screen in terror and rage, the newscaster taking great joy in announcing the death of a man, her man, thought to be behind a series of brutal murders around the Laksehore area over the past couple of years. The words were blaring from the TV, but they were entering one ear before shooting straight out the other, Tiffany unable to focus, to acknowledge a word that was now being said. She'd always feared this day would come. She'd warned him to be careful, only do what he had to, not get reckless, now it would seem her worst fears were coming true, the scenario playing out on the news confirming the gravest of information. Unable to do anything else, Tiffany sobbed. Her face a mess as the tears streamed down her cheeks, eye shadow and mascara beginning to run as she sat heartbroken.

Half an hour she had sat there, the paralysis sinking in and unrelenting, eventually letting her stand and make her way to the bathroom as she reached the toilet just in time, the vomit spewing from her throat as she shivered in the cold, remembering just how little she was wearing. The instructions from Chucky had begun to bounce around her head, to get rid of anything concerning him such as photographs, presents, clothes, anything the police may be able to link the two of them together. They each had their own circles, but they were both as bad as each other when it came to occupying themselves. It was only after she had gathered all Chucky's belongings that she remembered the body on the bed, bled out and in need of disposing. Like it or not, she had business to see to. Now as she sat outside the fire burning in front of her, she felt a warmth, the glow of the fire, the burning embers giving off a furnace like heat on this cold November night as she leaned forward and threw more items into the flames. A photograph, a jacket and a shirt, calmly followed by an arm, a head and the driving license of the man Tiffany had killed just over an hour ago, a happy time before her world had been kicked out from under her. There was one thing she couldn't bring herself to do though. As she had been gathering everything linking the two of them together, she had come across a ring, the diamond big enough to sink a cruise liner, sitting on the mantle as she gathered various paraphernalia ready for the fire. Her eyes had welled up again as she looked the ring over, only one explanation in her mind.

He was going to propose...