One hand closed around her throat, fingers gentle at first. Her skin was so smooth, nearly ivory. He rather enjoyed the way she trembled beneath his touch. Her fear was nearly palpable and it was making it hard for Chance to control himself enough to make this last.
It had been far too long since he had felt the cool hardness of a blade in his hands and to say he had been a little lost without the carnage he craved was an understatement.
The first press of steel had the girl practically screaming and he smiled, content as he dragged the blade down from her shoulder to her clavicle. It wasn’t even deep enough to need stitches, but she had caught on to what he was doing rather quickly. She didn’t even beg, she just screamed and thrashed.
The hand left her throat in favor of gripping her hip, steadying her before he plunged the knife into her abdomen. He needed her as still as possible to make sure he didn’t hit anything that would end the fun too quickly. Not that it mattered because her pain tolerance was far too low.
Between the pain and hyperventilating, the girl was already losing consciousness and his interest was fading with it.
Still, Chance continued on, carving flesh from bone before carving a pattern into her skin. It was a signature. One he knew his family would recognize and that was all he really wanted out of this. The next one would be more fun, he would make sure of that. But for now, they would know he’s home and that was enough.
ofviolentdeath 