Twist 2
Footsteps echoed in the darkness. Shadowy forms climbed walls and ran through darkened alleys
lending the night an eerie populace that disappeared with the light of a passing car or truck wending
its way through the darkened cityscape. He made His way towards the strip, and one of the bars along
its snaky length of pulsing lights and music watching the young and beautiful, searching for the one,
the one, that would be His first blood tonight, the first of many this evening but always the best, the
one that would give Him the biggest rush of fear, that would make His heart pound with the ending of
its existence. It did not matter if it was male or female to him, the sex of his kill never mattered
to Him, only its termination. He selected a bar at random, its only significance
the fact that it seemed to have a young crowd and the steady beat of loud music that drew Him hypnotically.
Going to the bar, He bought a scotch and then selected a booth that had a view of the bar and the dance
floor. Almost at once He spotted her long lustrous black hair, large breasts, narrow waist and legs that
went on forever. All encased in tight leather. He noted her bright green eyes, visible even at this distance
as she gyrated and spun, high kicking, clearing a space around herself and a captive audience of both
male and female alike, He could see their eyes on her, adoring, entranced by her
beauty and grace
as she swept around, her voluptuous body twisting and flying, exciting them, evincing lust and
ardor.
He knew that she was the one. As her eyes met His, could see the faint question in them, the perplexity
then widening terror as the animal instinct took over. The step lost, the spell broken, she turned and
fled towards the door. He could see the patrons on the floor shaking their heads, their bodies jerking
as the glamour flew from them. He was already moving in pursuit of the girl, she must not escape Him!
He could already feel the passion and fear rising through Him, the bloodlust as He gained the exit and
saw her fleeing into the darkness. He raced after her, His heart hammering in His chest, desire lending
Him superhuman strength as it always did. His rucksack in His left hand, His right seizing one of the
weapons from its depths. His legs pumped faster, the urge to get her like fire in His blood. He could
hear her panting ahead of Him now, knowing that as fit as she was, she would not be able to outrun Him
indefinitely. Through the darkness they ran, Hunted and Hunter, Pursuer and Pursued deeper and
deeper into the night, farther away from the sounds and bright chiaros curo of the strip and its seedy population
until their footfalls echoed like thunder, blasting counterpoint to their husky breaths. She took a wrong
turning, her terror confusing her even further as she tuned into a blind alley. He slowed now, the chase
over, the endgame left to play. He could hear her crying, racking sobs, as she searched frantically for
a way out, hear her nails scrabbling against brick or wood as He stalked towards her, His hand tightening
on the cold iron grip of the knife. She was facing Him now, He sensed. He always liked to look in their
eyes when they met their end.
Twist 3
"Why?" She cried, "why can't you leave me alone?"
she pleaded. "I have money, you can have my body, anything, only please, don't kill me, I don't want
to die. Please! I know that you want me, I'm yours, anything!" "You know what you are," He
hissed," and you know that you have to die. Scum like you should not be allowed to walk the earth, your kind need
eradicating from the face of it!" She was directly in front of Him now as He dropped the rucksack with
a thud, He could hear her heartbeat, could smell her horror as she knew in her own mind what was to come.
She shrieked, jumping for Him, raking her nails across His face, pummeling
Him with all her might,
but He was as stone, grasping her around the throat, slamming her against the wall repeatedly, knocking
her senseless as He drew back the knife for the killing strike, straight for her heart, pulsing between
her breasts. She heard a shot, deafening in the confines of the alley, heard running footsteps as a second
shot was fired, felt His hand clench convulsively around her throat and heard His exhale as He fell away
from her, the clatter of the knife as it fell to the ground as if from a distance. She slid down the
wall, covering her face and crying with relief. as His life drained from Him into to dirt of the
alley's floor. She felt gentle hands on Her shoulders lifting Her to her feet "Come on, ma'am, it's OK now He's
dead, It's OK I'll take you to the station, get you some coffee and we can sort this mess out." She
held him close to Her, needing his warmth, his reassurance, could feel his discomfort and his maleness
and the lust in him even in this terrible moment as She cried against his shoulder. He tentatively stroked
Her hair, murmuring platitudes, trying to soothe Her fear as she turned Her head towards his neck and
kissed it, gently. "Thank you," She murmured, and bit deep into his throat, draining the life from him.
He spasamed against Her as the blood flowed from him. She drank him dry and laid him gently on the ground.
She wiped her face on his coat and stood, sparing a kick for Her would-be killer, She turned once more
to the body of Her savior, a wry smile turning up the corners of her mouth, then began to laugh as She
walked up the alley towards another bar, another victim.
