Chapter: First Hunt: The Beginning
Have you ever been hunting before? I think that I have finally understood why so many people do so. It's a thrill. The way the adrenaline flows through your veins, enhances your senses... it makes you feel ALIVE! The thrill only increases when the creature you hunt has the ability to kill you as well. The prey I've chosen is very much like that. Not only does it have the intelligence to think, react, and fight back, there is something so much more intoxicating inside it. They have emotions like anger and fear. The look of fear in their eyes drives me to a level of excitement nothing else can match. Seeing the life drain out of their fearful eyes is like an extremely powerful orgasm after a nice good fuck. And I'm sure you have figured out what I'm hunting by now. I hunt what is widely considered the most dangerous of prey; humans.
A sad, bitter smile crosses my face as I think back to why I started to play my game. I tried; I really, really tired to live a peaceful life. I wanted to be a normal person who went to work, came home, and was greeted by his wife and children. But I have no wife, nor children. I have no need of a job. I've had several lovers, but none of them ever satisfied me. I slowly lost interest even in the things I loved. Friends, quidditch, magic, all of it became lackluster to me. Then one day, I had the unfortunate luck of being attacked by a dark wizard trying to make a name for himself. For months I denied I felt the thrill that I did killing the man, but after it happened three times, I couldn't lie to myself. I liked it far too much. It frightens me to my very soul that I love to do what I do. But I can't stop. It's a high I can't live without.
Looking up the road, I see a young woman nearly a block away. My pace is slow and casual, as I'm not afraid of losing her. I know where she lives. She's been my chosen target for two weeks now. I've watched her, studied her entire life. I've memorized her daily schedule, favorite restaurants, foods, and friends. She is a young woman, slightly older than me, just turning twenty seven this year. Her name is Alexandra Crevan. She is an electronics store clerk who plays tennis and golf in her free time. Her body shows the barest hints of being athletic, but doesn't look special. A tall woman, she reaches five feet nine inches in height. She is by no means rich, and has very little to call her own, but loves her life nonetheless.
As I turn the corner, my heart races in anticipation when I realize we are only four blocks from her apartment, which is three doors down the hall from my own. I plan to make my move after she enters her home. I've already prepared it with silencing charms and confundlement wards to insure confusion of Ministry monitoring spells. That is the only magic I will use for my fun. I had seen the victims of Bellatrix Lestrange's torture, and for the life of me couldn't understand why she tortured them without magic like when she had placed the Longbottoms in St. Mungo's. Now I know. The screams of pain, the pleading for mercy, the begging for life intensifies the experience.
Alexandra is a lovely girl. She has a personality that is hard to dislike: kind to generally everyone. Kind as she may be, her temper is something fierce. She also has a mean streak to her. I think that is what drew my attention to this girl. She's a fighter and I can almost smell it rolling off of her. It exhilarates me to my very core thinking of the possibilities. Oh, how I long to dominate her. How I long to squash the fire in her beautiful crystal blue eyes. I want to taste her flesh and soul. I want to see her ruby life flowing from her body, pooling around her, and staining her indefectible black hair.
Her apartment building was small, considering the normal size of apartment complexes. It was only three floors, with nine apartments on each floor. Hers was on the top floor, three doors down from the end. It was small, having one bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a small living area. The majority of her home was decorated in blues and spare, unused, disassembled computer parts of every kind.
After waiting five minutes for her to arrive in her apartment, I start the trek of the final block towards the building and three flights of stairs. As usual, the door is unlocked. Though not a rich area, the area is considered very safe, so Alexandra doesn't lock her door until she turns in for the night. I could hear the shower running, so I slowly open the door, attempting to be as quite as a mouse. I probably failed at that, but was quiet enough to escape her notice with the running water as loud as it was. The bathroom door is ajar, causing light and steam to spill from the small room. I enter her bedroom as silently as I can and set the backpack on my shoulder down on the far side of the bed, hoping its location and dark color will escape her attention until I've captured her. I pull a small black baton from the bag and hide behind the open door and wait.
After nearly ten minutes the shower cuts off, and another three minutes later, the front door was locked and Alexandra walked in, clad in pink satin panties, toweling her hair. As she lowered the towel I struck her, being careful not to hit her hard enough to kill, merely render her unconscious. Her nectarous body fell gracelessly to the floor with a thump.
Tossing the baton down, I lift her gently, placing her on the bed; a queen size if I judge right. I place the discarded baton back in the bag while I also retrieve a set of handcuffs and a small vial of … something. I believe it's called smelling salt, though I'm not sure. I make sure I take time to admire her soft body as I bind her hands above her head to the headboard of her bed. Her skin is smooth and unblemished, a tan only ever so slightly present; even though she does spend time outdoors quite often. I think it's a natural reaction to being involved with computers. Her fingers twitch as I run a finger from her neck, down her chest, and circle her navel. An action as simple as this causes my excitement to jump in impatient desire behind restraining jeans. Her normally average breasts are made smaller as a result of her stretched arms. Soft as a summer's breeze I brush the same finger across her nipples, erect from the cool room, eliciting another shudder from her body.
As I decided I've waited long enough, I climb onto the center of the bed and straddle her abdomen, resting my weight on my knees, and slowly wave the muggle potion under the girl's nose. A strong shudder and shake of her head is my only reward. Failing twice more, I heave a frustrated sigh and toss the failed potion back into the bag, which now rests next to the unconscious woman. First, and most certainly the last, time I use that worthless substance. Grabbing the woman's head, I give it a violent shake before releasing it. She groans and rolls her head about the pillow. I steady her head and slap her semi-gently calling her name. Slowly, her eyes open, and she looks about the room before focusing on me. Confusion crosses across her eyes, before trying to sit up, she realizes she can't, and then, finally the fear. That delicious, unmistakable look of terror develops in fields of blue.
"Hello." I greet her as if we were old friends, with a mockery of a kind smile and an equally kind voice. In a different situation, I expect it would have brought the beauty comfort. It does nothing in her current position, not that I could blame her for that.
"Wh… Who are you?" She asks in a shaky voice, from her bout of unconsciousness I suspect. "What are you doing here? I demand you release me at once." He voice screams bravery and authority, but her eyes betray her. They always do. Only the most powerful of occlumens can hide their emotions at that level. Not even I can do that. I'm a poor occlumens in reality. I can keep nearly anyone out, but nothing more.
I frown down at her, and attempt a disappointed look, though I'm sure it's ruined with the look of insanity and lust burning in my unnerving green eyes. "That's rather rude of you, don't you think? I greet you politely, and you brush it off and start making demands. Tsk tsk tsk." I attempt a reassuring smile as I bask in her glare.
"Now, there is no need to fear, Alexandra." Her eyes narrow in suspicion at the use of her name. "As long as you cooperate, this won't hurt one bit."
"Excuse me if I find that a little hard to believe." She spits sarcastically, desperate to maintain her strong façade. The poor girl, she doesn't know she's only feeding my lustful fire, causing it to grow and want more and more.
I flash a smirk that, despite my assurances of safety, promises much pain and suffering. "Oh, it's quite true, dear Alex." I tell her as a fish in my bag, and pull out a long sharpened butcher's knife no different from the one she would have in her own. "After all, if you cooperate, I won't feel a thing."
"How very … kind …of you." She sneers. "And how in the fuck do you know my name?"
"Such vulgar language for such a pretty lady," I say mockingly. She glares. My smirk widens. So easy to press this ones buttons. "I know your name, Miss Crevan, because I've been studying and following you for the past two weeks." She looks vaguely concerned about this, but tries valiantly to hide it. "You see, I went through a lot of trouble picking you out of all the other women in the British Isles. You have this certain … Fire … About you. Even in a situation like this, you put forward a brave face, even if your eyes to show just how terrified you really are. I respect that."
"Well, gee. I feel so very special now." She mocked right back. I grinned at her. "How about you just let me go, and we'll forget this ever happened. I give you my word I won't tell anyone. Just let me go." Her voice had an undertone of hysterics and pleading, but the faux courage was still present.
Hands placed at either of her sides, I lean down and place a gentle kiss upon her lips despite her attempts of cowering back into her billows. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Alex." I ignore her protests of using my newfound nickname for her. "I went through a lot of trouble setting this up, you know."
Pushing the bag off the bed I get sit next to her. I caress the soft flesh of her stomach and she squirms and wiggles trying to get away from me as if my touch was acidic. Stopping, I reach up and caress her cheek for a second before backhanding her quite hard. "Now, now, Alex, that's not very nice of you." I tell her as if I were talking to a small child. "Here I am trying to make you feel nice, and give you pleasure, and you fight me." I ignore the tears welling up in her fearful eyes. I can see she finally realizes she isn't going to get out of this, though it doesn't stop her pleading. "What a rotten, spoiled child you are."
"Please…" She begs, fear creeping farther and farther into her voice as she speaks. "Please… Please, don't do this. I… I'm a virgin with a fiancé." Dear lord, the girl can't sense she's only exciting me more. "I'll give you whatever you want, just go away."
Listening to the symphony of her pleading, I stroke her flesh, lowering to her secret bits. She tries desperately to clamp her legs closed to prevent my access. I violently grab her by the chin and forced her to look me in the eye. "I've got ropes and other handcuffs, you know. I can make this hurt a lot more than it has to. It doesn't matter to me really, my pretty. I'll have you one way or another." Despite my warning the girl still struggles fiercely.
I sigh, getting irritated, as I reach down and viciously grab and twist her exposed nipple, drawing blood with my nails, and causing her to scream out in pain. "Listen to me closely, you nasty little harlot. I'm not in the mood to be remorseful about hurting you!" She's trembling in fear, and pain I suspect, as her breast must have hurt horribly.
With the assistance of my dear friend, the knife, her panties are easily removed. Her pubic hairs are very neatly trimmed, a very fine isosceles shaped patch of dark fur. I play in it for a moment, twirling my fingers, pulling it gently. It's very attractive, if I do say so myself. Satisfied with my exploration of her garden, I slide down to her clitoris. Despite the situation, she can't hide the small groan of temporary pleasure as I pass it. I force a finger into her crevice, wiggling about. Looking at her, I find her eyes clenched shut, muttering a mantra of 'please don't' over and over again.
Leaving my knife at the far end of the bed, where I expect it's out of her reach, I position myself between her gloriously appetizing legs. One quick thrust and one long, tortured scream, and I've invaded her most private sanctuary. Her muscles tense and push, trying to eject the foreign object causing her such excruciating pains. It only serves to heighten my pleasure as I pump furiously at the poor, struggling woman. The act itself is quite quick, but as I spill myself onto her stomach and pubic hairs, I can't help but feel incredibly satisfied. More so than any of my previous lovers had induced. Glancing down at my mess, I weigh the pros and cons of leaving my excretion on her body as she cries. I finally decided after nearly three full minutes of thought that I should remove it, and as completely as possible, which leaves magic as the only option. I promised I wouldn't use it, but if I don't I risk far too much. A sigh, a quick search, and a quick wave that she doesn't notice, cleans the mess as if it was never made.
I sit on her stomach yet again, still hanging out, as I pinch her nipple to the best of my ability in my post orgasmic state, which isn't very much, but it is enough to cause pain and draw her attention.
"Have I got your attention now, my dear?" She nods shakily, fearing what is yet to come, though she only knows at a subconscious level. I pinch, pull, and fondle her nipples and breast freely as she trembles beneath me. I play with her body and release twice more as I stimulate myself, cleaning it magically. As I observe the broken woman, I notice around her neck, a plain silver chain, with a suburban man's ring. A quick yank and the ring and chain is mine, with a bonus sob from the girl.
"Do you know what happens now, Alexandra?"
Alex nods shakily, "You… you're going to kill me now."
"Nope." I answer back cheerfully. She finally looks up to me, a strange hope shining in her eyes. I raise my knife to her ear, and with a quick flick, remove the ear and she screams such a beautiful, beautiful song to me. "Now, my dear plaything, the real fun begins." I giggle in insane, childish glee. For a good half an hour I amuse myself with Alexandra's body and my knife. Alexandra subsequently lost three toes, a nipple, an ear, and several fingers, as well as gained a gaping hole in her throat.
I examine myself in her bedroom mirror, and am quite repulsed at the sight. Parts of my body that shouldn't be covered in blood, were. This is why I brought a change of clothes. A quick shower, change of clothes, and an incineration charm on my bloody clothes, and I'm ready to face the outside world. My neck is even adorned with the now repaired silver chain and ring, yet another souvenir from my fun. A quick wave to remove my precautionary spells, and I walk out the door, being careful to leave no evidence of my presence behind.
London Times
Police Suspect Fiancé To Be Serial Killer
Article by Yvonne Ridley
Suspected of being missing for several days, twenty-seven year old Alexandra Crevan of London was found in her home, when police forced their way into her apartment early this yesterday morning. The Chief of Police has refused to release her exact condition, stating only that she had been 'mutilated quite a bit'. Investigators believe Crevan was targeted specifically as the injuries sustained were blatantly premeditated and found evidence of rape, but no evidence to identify the perpetrator.
"We found no evidence of forced entry, which makes us suspect the suspect was known to the victim. No one saw the victim entering her home that night, or heard any sounds of a fight, causing some of our investigators to believe more firmly in a friend of the victim." Chief Parfit's assistant stated in part of the official press conference. "No finger prints nor murder weapon(s) were found at the scene, though the amount of blood and environmental evidence points to the victim's bedroom being the scene of the crime."
"I don't know who would want to do this to her." Crevan's best friend, who wishes to remain anonymous, sobbed. "Almost everyone loved 'Xandra."
"I heard she and her boyfriend, Jason something or other, were going through a rough spot that was driving Alex up the wall." A coworker told this reporter. "I've never met this guy, but from what she told me he had been in trouble with the law a few times for assault or something like that."
"Jason's a nice boy," Mrs. Crevan, the victim's mother, said in regard to the previous statement. "He would never have done this. He loved Xan dearly."
Police have announced after hours of discussion that the rape and murder of Alexandra Crevan is of such a similarity to the rapes and murder of Marina Dowding, nineteen, of Faversham, and Elspeth Carnac, twenty-six, of Folkestone, that they suspect they were commited by the same individual. Police Chief Mycroft Parfitt refuses to confirm or deny the claim of Jason Moxon's name being amongst suspects. It is this reporter's firm belief that Moxon is the Police's chief suspect in this case.
Hermione Granger threw the morning paper down on the table irritably, and looked at her companions with a look of utter disgust. "What kind of sick people do things like this?" She angrily took a gulp of her tea, ignoring the burning sensation as it traveled down. "It's … It's… It's effing disgusting! These kinds of people should be locked up for life!"
Granger's fiancé of two years glanced at the article curiously. "That's what your pleasemen are for, love."
"POLICE men," Harry Potter corrected his best friend. "And Ron's right, 'Mione. The police will take care of this. Try not to worry too much about it. I'm sure they'll catch him." He said, in what he hoped was a reassuring voice. "It's their business anyway. This Moxon guy is a muggle; they'll deal with him. Personally, I still don't understand why you still order that garbage. It's as bad as the Daily Prophet, you know."
"My family is muggle, Potter. So, therefore, I like knowing what's going on in both worlds. Your family is muggle as well, Harry. You should be concerned about their world as well." She said irritation still evident in her voice.
Harry threw her a glance that said he was beyond agitated at her statement. "My family is dead, 'Mione. The Dursley's are NOT family." He snorted in a somewhat amused way. "Hell, I think I'd even pay this guy to go after them."
"That's disturbing, Harry." Granger told her friend, looking at him oddly.
He shrugged in reply. "You didn't live with them, you don't know them like I do." He said calmly sipping his tea.
Ron, eager to prevent an argument between his friends, spoke up again. "Come on, 'Mione, We've both got work to be at soon." He nodded at Harry. "Later, mate." Hermione looked reluctant, but bid her goodbye, as did Harry. When they were both gone, he pulled out a plain, ordinary silver ring, and rolled it between his fingers; a dark smile crossing his face as he read of the London Time's article on Moxon and his previous crimes.