AFTER THE YOUNG FEMALE BECAME obedient, I allowed her to seek first aid. Sabrina managed to tie a knot around her bloody wound. Blood dripped down from her, like those plenty of shrieks that dripped down from her mouth. She then comes back to her place on the couch, and our eyes flicker at the TV screen.

"When is he com..." I begin to say, but my sentence is slashed.

"I don't know." She quickly stops me; she doesn't want my voice in her body. There's a large pause again. I feel a type of dreadful anger in me. I grunt for a moment and I look at her. My eyes are burning red, killing my mental well-being.

"Can you call and ask..."

"... No, I don't want to bother him," she mutters with that horrendous voice.

"But I do," my argument slaps her right across the face. Her sour eyes turn to me, but they keep quiet. I remind myself that she's afraid of my power, but that quickly escapes from my mind. I think I'm becoming narcissist, heck, that's the first I've ever felt like that.

"You know I don't appreciate your goddamn attitude!"

"Is that so?" She puts her hand in front of my face, in a childish effort to block my words. I'm beginning to believe I'm in a Barbie's body because I appear fake. Not caring about her senseless action, I turn my attention at the clock. 

Half an hour has passed! 

Each minute, each tick of the clock stabs me. I’m tired of waiting, and I’m tired of Sabrina's bullshit. She switches the TV channel. The TV Screen is in on a hand carved, tinted wooded shelf. Books around flooding the shelves, all around the giant TV Screen.

"Hey! I was watching that hon," I cast my left eye at her, and study her. From a glance, she seems normal, as if nothing is happening to her.

"That's your problem, not mine." The melody of her voice seems polite, but her sarcasm isn't working on me.

"Oh yeah! I can fix it by killing Todd," Without a word, she switches the channel. The sudden sound of footsteps lingers in the atmosphere. I glance at the window and see a person coming towards the house.

My body freezes for a moment, but I get out of my budging fear.

"Go upstairs and get Todd... Now!" I groan at her.

"What!?"

Pushing her to the ground I drag her upstairs. She follows me upstairs and leads me to Todd's room. It's almost impossible for me to breathe, as the heavy and quick beats of my heart won't allow such a thing.

"Honey! I'm home," the familiar voice enters the bedroom. I try to ignore it and help Sabrina grab Todd's material. Together, we manage to stuff the baby items in her cheap purse. A tear rolls down her precious little eye, but she manages to hide it as she grabs the child.

"Go to your mom's house. If you say anything, I'll kill you and slice your kid before I drown him," my voice frightens her, but she tries to dismiss it.

"Don't worry, I won’t,"

"And just remember I've killed cops before," I say as we walk downstairs. When Drake sees my face I see the sexuality in him as well as sadness. Confusion is also in him, but he has too many things going on in his mind.

That dear old, boy next door face, mixed with the madness of a motorist is already mentally fucking me.

"I'm going to my mother's house now," Sabrina mutters as her feet quickly take her to the front door.

"Samantha?! Sabrina, what the hell did you just-" He is getting confused. A tornado of thoughts appears in the room, angering all of us. Her hand reaches the knob of the door, as her eyes flash at him.

"It's for Todd's safety. Don't argue with it," she says humbly. It's clear a pit is growing in her stomach. Drake quickly stops her from opening the door and gives her a sour look on his face.

"Listen to me-"

"No, listen to me! I've never loved you!"

"Sabrina, what the fu-"

"Bye!" Her sweet voice kisses him goodbye, right before she exits the house. She slams the door behind her, taking the negative anger from the room with her. A tear rolls down my eye when I see his fresh face.

We close in on each other and strangely hug. It feels like I am safe. Another tear rolls down my eye and it said the word vengeance before it came out.

I gaze at him for a moment, an action that my heart forced me to do. I feel unscrambled, but I'm slowly starting to unravel. 

"Samantha, Listen I'm so sorry," he begins to say with that familiar bad-boy charm.

"Sorry? Do you honestly think sorry fucking helps?” I shout at him furiously, followed by a slap. The slap was so fast and so hard, it reminds me of a lightening bolt. Heck, our relationship is like a lightning bolt. 

It only gets bigger, stronger and crazier.

He won’t have to say sorry, because I’ll go out of my way to make sure he is.

"No, it's too late isn't it?" His voice begins to lower itself into pure and plain misery. I'm trying to hide my tears but they don't want to hide, they keep coming out of me. With the sentence that just escaped his mouth, it's clear that he is simply dull.

"Even if it was early it wouldn't have made a difference," I reply to him. My ass finds its way on the couch, and he sits on the sofa, a few feet from where I'm sitting. We simply stare at each other, and our lips don't move.

We don't need to speak. We don't need voices to communicate with each other.

"Samantha..."

"... Don't talk listen. Drake, we've been through a lot," he nods. What a shithead, that’s what gesture he does!?

"Starting from the minute that you told me to wait for you. And I've waited for a long time to see your face. You asked me yourself if I wanted to date you for 5 goddamn years and you got it. You got me. Well, you had me," the speech isn't appearing the way I wanted it to be. 

With all of my mumbles and the heavy breaths, it sounds like I'm being murdered.

"Samantha don't cry...'

"... Why do you care? Then you joined Anna's group... I gave you permission because we never had time to see each other. We both agreed that when you rammed me in front of everybody... You did it cause, you loved me. But I think you got more than carried away."

I start to pause and I think about all the times that he beat me. The virtual images fly across the room. His face, his face was identical to that of Lucifer. His fists, however, now that was a different story.

"And at that night, you didn't stand up for me... And I went to prison because you couldn't say anything for ... Four... Four fucking years that I'll never get back!" 

My eyes are fixated at the ground. I stare at the blank space as the asshole is crying. I feel numb to the pain, but deep down I'm damaged. It's useless to describe the pain I'm feeling. Pain that rarely appears, and pain that hides from the act of copping. 

"And you go fuck, and marry Sabrina? She even tried to shag me! And now it's too late you have a baby," it's official I'm now being engulfed by a river of tears. Drake is trying to hold the tears but they're coming out. I then feel my head melting, making it almost impossible for me to think straight.

"Samantha, I know that I made mistakes and they can't be fixed but people make mistakes,"

"That phrase is only used for small things, YOU GODDAMN IDIOT!"

We share a ghost of a smirk.

"Cause of you guys I lost my best friend,"

"You know what Samantha, I can give you two choices."

"And what would they be?" I barely manage to say.

"One is me calling the cops." He says.

He's coming closer to me with his sensual mind. Is he trying to seduce me like old times? I look at his blasting eyes, which confirm that he is trying to seduce me.

"Two is... Me killing you," I get up and look at him. His hand starts to grab my stomach. I enjoy the pressure they have on me as they climb up my body and stop at my breasts... But I don't enjoy him.

"You killing me." There wasn't even a struggle saying those words. He unbuttons my blouse carefully.

"Drake this isn't right. You have a kid!" The words leap out of my mouth without my consent.

"What's right anymore?" I respond to him by taking off my blouse. I close my eyes trying to think about old times.

"I'm nervous..."

He grabs me by the top and looks at me. Our lips meet and we fall on the couch. He takes off his jacket. I have no emotion, but I want to hold on him one more time. I think that I can find a way to make this happen. It's worth it, as I glance at his eyes and notice the bright stars in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"This doesn't feel like old times," I say with a delicious smile.

"What do you mean?" He seems a tad shocked at me.

I grab him by the sec and start to kiss him. He begins to nibble my neck, I enjoy the bites and burns it causes my body to endure.

"It's every girl's dream... to... Have someone looking after them."

He doesn't reply.

"And shower them with presents." He kisses me. Then I stop him. I get off from the couch then I gaze at him for a moment.

"If we are going to do this, I need a drink or something."

"Or I can just kill you now."

As soon as one of us finishes a sentence, the other one spits their sentence out.

"But I don't want my death to feel like a tragedy."

"I don't think I can let go of you Samantha Ripply."

I smile and come up close to him. My eyes change sexually and I take a moment to think about the words that I'm about to say.

"Then promise you'll hold on."

"Maybe."

"Can maybe mean our always?"

I feel his moist plump lips on me with a few his fluids.

"Maybe,” he sexy voice almost fucks me. I push him away, fury builds up in me when I look at him.

“News flash, I’m not your boomerang.”

“Maybe! Be mine, Sam.” His arms pull me towards his hard body, with his lips seducing me.

"Make me ready to die."

***

My gaze floods to Drake's fat cock. He slides his pants off and reveals his pelvis, covered in dark hair. The dark hair leads me to the massive cock, in which a large vein bulges out. The vein leads me directly to his massive cock head.

He is circumcised, I feel it as my hips burn a little. They prop up against his passionate thrusting, which slides his dick in and out of my body. I lie on the bed, being shaken around. My eyes flood to his chest, hard rocked abs. I desire to bite them, then I imagine what it would be like if they were hard chocolate.

I imagine he'd taste better. He's getting close now.

"Oh, Sam-" he begins to say as he grabs his cock out of my ass. I feel the immense burn and spice removed out of me. My ass didn't have the chance to come, not just yet. I smile at him for a moment. The smile is murdered when he slaps my buttocks. The pain sends pleasure up through my body. The soft texture of his fingers compliments me, even as they slide around my clit.

"I want to taste you," I groan in pleasure. Carefully, he grabs the cock and slides it down my face ever so softly. Our eyes connect as I slide my tongue around it. Carefully I manage to lubricate it with my salvia.

He moans, I would think he wouldn't enjoy this. I guide him into to my mouth, not wanting to let go of him. He enters my mouth and I quickly begin to suck.  I try to breathe through my nose, but in the end, I decide to simply fuck breathing.

He thrusts his cock in my mouth, and it reaches the back of my throat. In an effort to please him, but also to get it out of my throat, I slowly push him away with my tongue. The soft piece of flesh quickly releases from my throat. 

I slide him onto my teeth and bite him delicately.

"Oh baby," he says softly. Our eyes connect for a moment, but they quickly are torn apart once my hand finds his sac. I give it a good squeeze, putting his balls into misery but him to pure ecstasy.

In a few moments, the hot and heavy liquid becomes the dominant of my mouth. He growls in pleasure, but it ends once I jump on him. Our lips meet, and our tongues eventually pull each other. The slippery flesh consumes my mind. 

After my tongue escapes his mouth, I slide it down his body. His skin is so soft, reminding me of a cashmere sweater. Either way, he leaves me breathless. I stop at my destination, his cock and grab a hold of it. I slide the condom on him and I find my way onto his pelvis.

"I saved the best for last," I say and laugh. Being the gentleman that he thinks he is, Drake grabs his cock and enters my body through my vagina. I instantly release a goddamn moan and fall onto him.

I don't even know if I have the power in me to move my hips. His eyes seem like they're in a trance-like state. Saliva drips down from his mouth, but I quickly clean him up with my lips. I thrust myself onto him and moan into his mouth. 

His tongue reacts to it, by flickering around my mouth. I feel his arm slide up my sides, and his hard hand grabbing my left breast.

I thrust again, giving it my all. It almost feels like a threesome, us two, and air. Both of us breathe hard. I feel my body opening, and the hot scorching pain entering me.

It hits me.

My orgasm hits me like a fucking hammer. I scream in pleasure and try to thrust again. I collapse on him, and quickly shiver into my own skin.

"Ohhh,"

***

I’m a dirty whore.

I swing the bathroom door open and stare at the shower. Christ, I can see Drake’s eyes flashing at me. They slowly become Martin’s eyes, and bring a stingy pain into my body. Heavy breaths swing throughout my body as I walk towards the shower.

“Sam,” the whisper of Drake is no surprise. I get into the large shower, with teal marbling around it, and glass doors. The shower’s length and width is about a coffee table times eight. My eyes roll at him at the moment I step foot in the shower.

God, he’s gorgeous.

“Can we make room for two?”

I shake my head firmly, no. Disappointment runs across his face. I start the shower, the steam rushes throughout my body. With my eyes closed, I begin to give myself a good scrub as the hot water massages my body.

“Get the fuck out of my shower!”

I manage to open my eyes, and catch the fucker jerking off.

“No!” I roar at him. Instead of continuing a verbal fight, he simply leaves the bathroom. Finally.

***

We don't need to say a word.

Our mouths don't move, and our vocal cords don't produce words. As a couple, we had never experienced the post-sex awkwardness. I strongly believe that is why we're like this. We hadn't fucked in a while, and he had moved onto another woman. I lie on the couch, buttoning my blouse, and gaze at him.

"So, have you find out how you're going to kill me?" I ask as I finish buttoning my blouse.

"Too early to say... But maybe we can-" I instantly know he wants more of me. The fucker already wanted a piece of me in the shower. I murder the rest of his sentence and continue to stare at him.

"... Drake stop it! I'm not attracted to you anymore," I tie my hair in a bun as he sits next to me. "And bitch, I'm going to be the one that kills you!"

"What did you-" before the moist lips could release the rest of the sentence, my fist comes across his face. My punch was so hard that it even hurt my own hand. It was so tender, it forced me to lick my own lips.

"Kid, it's not you... It's me, well it's really you!" Again, another pathetic joke I say to his unconscious body, and give birth to a foolish laugh.

My hands come in contact with the couch's pillow, then I focus on Drake. I don't want to do it, but I force myself to hold the pillow on his face. He fights back with his hand but I'm stronger. I keep the pillow on his face.

I want his brain to tire from the lack of oxygen.

His right and left hand try to remove the pillow from his face. A useless act, he should actually be trying to hit me. I grunt and try to put all of my power onto the pillow. In fact, I try so hard that I begin to feel sweats coming out of me.

A minute or two passes by, and he is still trying to fight. He slaps and grabs my arm, but it's too late. His body slowly stops moving. It doesn't stop me from taking off the pillow, but I do after a few moments. 

Adrenaline rushes through my body although it doesn’t bother me.

It's depressing to see that beautiful body, close to death. Those eyes, those gorgeous, stunning eyes don't have the power to seduce another girl, although, I feel awful for being the reason that they're closed. In an effort to change my thoughts, I laugh. 

I feel as if I've stepped into the Devil's skin. It feels fantastic to have conquered a male. I've always had a saying, one that has gotten me through hard times.

"Women can do anything they want and they can do anything that men can do in high heels too".

I check his pulse. I feel anger when I feel it still beating.

***

Drake's little eyes slowly open, but they're mixed in confusion. He tries to get up but the rope I tied around him doesn't allow it. His eyes circle the room until he realizes that he is in the boat house... tied to a chair.

Dragging the body and then putting it on the chair was easy.

Dragging it out to the boathouse was difficult.

Dragging him across thick brush in the woods was demanding.

The thick and tall trees blocked the sunlight from me, making me close to blind when we walked across the wooded area. Add the fact that the dirt was wet and I almost sank in mud, and how the dirt was even which, led me to trip.

"Samantha! Please, don't... Don't do anything stupid," I know he's trying to make me look stupid and he's trying to be the smart one. In reality or, rather in my world, it's the other way around. I’ve seen this way too many times in blockbuster films, or in cheesy heroic action movies where the person tied escapes.

Classic.

"Don't tell me what the fuck to do," I circle him with a crop. Before leaving the house, I took one of his favourite sexual objects in an effort to make my game, much better.

“So, I want to play a little game, Drake." I blurt at him and quickly notice his disgusted face.

"I'm a grown man, I don't play games," my ears don't resonate with his words, causing me to hit across the face. 

"Love hurts babe... You showed me that... But in this case, it abuses you."

He doesn't say anything. I walk around him, trying to duplicate a familiar horror film scene, in which, the killer shark surrounds the victims. Drake always enjoyed horror movies, mostly JAWS, and now it was his dream come true. He was finally in one.

"I'm going to ask you a question... You answer, simple." No words. I need words, not silence. In a fit of rage, I say the first sentence that I think of.

"Come on Drake! Talk or Todd meets the end of the knife," 

"Okay! What!?" His voice is covered in irritation, giving me more pleasure than I already have.

"What type of water did you give the donkey?" I ask. It was a clever game my father would use against me to punish me. The answers were cold or hot, but none of them were correct.

"This game is stupid!"

"Hot or cold!" I say while I grow impatient.

"Hot!!!" He bursts the answer out in annoyance. I pretend to be shocked.

"Hot? How dare you burn my donkey?! You are going to feel his pain!"

My hands get a hold of a bucket of hot water I had boiled before, while I thought of what I was to do with Drake at the house. Steam rushes out of it but I know it won't kill him. His eyes scream in agony as I walk closer. My hands toss the bucket and the water lungs into the air. It lands directly on him. I imagine the hot water enters his body, attacking it.

The burning pain engulfing his body. That's probably why he unleashes a bloody scream. The scream is so severe, it sends shock waves up my spine. It feels like the scream is made of thousands of voices being tortured.

His skin turns into rosy red. The water must be enflaming his body. His eyes pop out of his eyelids and his mouth stays open. His sweat and the water become one, as he still screams.

Perhaps he's still in shock or perhaps he desires to die.

"Alright, let's try this again. What water did you give the donkey?" I ask him. I lean forward and get a hold of his hand. The hand feels on fire, I then pay close attention to his face. His pure baby face is hidden behind horrid blisters. They seem a tad yellow mixed with the color of an angel's wing.

His mouth can barely move but it manages to spit out one word: cold.

"I thought you were smart, Storris," I reply to him, as I pinch his cheek. My legs take me to the corner of the boathouse where a bucket of ice water lays. I smile when I turn towards him with the ice water. I think he might enjoy the cold water as it might battle the hot water in his veins.

Drake keeps releasing shrieks as the hot water is still in effect.

"Samantha! Please help!"

"Sorry, right now," I point at my heart. "There's no heart here just a big black empty dark space!"

My arms make me throw the ice-cold water on him. It revives him as he releases a large heavy moan. I let him enjoy it, but I know that the pain will still be there. It’ll almost feel like an painful orgasm to him.

I creep towards him and my finger comes in contact with his face.

"Do you want to try this again? What type of fucking water did you give to my donkey?" I release my question in the form of a whisper. His eyes stay connected to mine, but I feel a warm substance on my face.

He had spit on me.

"Answer me, or your son will be in your place."

"The... The type that you wanted!" He looks at me again, but his face is covered in shame. I scowl with frustration and walk to the end of the boathouse. He seems confused as I open the door that stands right on the edge of the creek.

Light consumes the room. The boathouse is filled with plenty of spider-webs, and the light makes me notice the plenty of cracks in the walls made of wood.

"Drake, you're my donkey. Haven't you understood shit? And I want salt-water, which leads me to this creek. One of the few with salt-water," I take heavy steps as I make my way to him. He seems shocked, but I think he was prepared for this. I go to the chair in which he's bound and steadily push it forward. My target is the door, and that will be Drake's last spot... on land.

"Say your prayers," I roar at him. His eyes connect with mine and I feel his pain and regret. I won't stand for it, however; I made a promise to myself and to Esther.

"Amen," I say to him as I push the chair off of the edge. I see his face before it enters the salted water. The large splash devours both my view and my ears.  As the splash disappears, the ripples appear. I notice the wonderful view.

The sun is slowly leaving the view, and the virgin blue is leaving the sky. The water is calm, even though it has just engulfed a human. His eyes are looking at the sky, his mouth stays open and his cheeks are bright red. The chair instantly sinks, and I see a pack of bubbles emerging from beneath the creek.

"Forgive me father, for my sins." I look at the sky and recite my lines for forgiveness. At last the bubbles stop emerging, meaning that the creek's water had found its way into his lungs. “I don’t give a shit!”

***

My feet find their way in Drake and Sabrina's house.

I grab almost every green I can find. I break the house into millions of pieces, as my heart beats more than I expected it to. I do wear gloves, however. I know quite a lot about forensic evidence. I am indeed a sociopath, but not a psychopath. 

The victim's final scream will never exit your mind. That sudden chill in you, that wretched gut will never die. I try to exist that remorse, but the sense of guilt builds in me. My English teacher always told me, if you have no remorse, you’re as sick as a horse.

Fuck!

I also grab a portrait of Drake as a souvenir, something that most serial killers do.

But I don't want to be a serial killer so I sadly just leave the glorious portrait there. I blow a kiss to it though, just to show my respect and to show that this was simply business... I think. I pray that my heart will let go of him, so I won’t have to listen to, My Heart Will Go On.

As I'm about to leave I spot Drake's cell phone on the couch. My hand instantly reaches it and I quickly manage to dial Sabrina's phone number. She answers in the split of a second.

"Drake? Hello!" She says hopelessly.

"No, he's gone... It's Samantha," I say softly as I gaze into mid air. I can hear her gasp through the phone. Her emotions can be felt even through the phone. I'm waiting for an answer as I hear her shriek. The woman must be shoved into fear.

"Did you kill him?”

"No, he's doing alright, at the bottom of the creek." There's a pause for a couple of seconds. She's digesting the information that she's now a widow and the future of her child, or at least that's what I think.

"If you tell anyone, it will be the last sentence you say," I say clearly into the phone. I feel confident in myself. My heart still is trying to cope with Drake being gone and the fear of the electric chair.

"Alright don't worry. And Samantha," Her voice changes. It's a voice that friends would use to communicate with each other in a delightful situation.

"What?" I hesitantly ask. I simply want this conversation to be over, but Sabrina could never shut her goddamn mouth.

"I see us close in the future."

Before words can come out of my mouth, she hangs up. I feel like I didn't finish but I drop his cell. I need to leave this, it's best if I just move away from the cell and not create another fight. I grab the cash I found and exit the house. I make it towards the truck I had and see a yellow parking ticket on it.

I scowl with frustration as I crumple the tiny paper.

"You know what... I'm not going to pay it. I'll get a bus or something and get out of town." At least that's the only option to do. I'm outside and I don't feel like the others. I'm breathing different air.

The sun is almost gone, and the air is slowly disappearing. I feel as if I'm faced with a question: 

Where is home?

And it's a question in which I don't know how to answer.