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"Do you read Cosmo or something? Where do you get these weird lines from? This isn't 1850 when you need to court me like a princess to get me in the sack. I'm up for it tonight if you are."
Smiling sheepishly, Simon replied, "Okay, I might have gone a bit overboard with the clichés, but seriously, let's give it some more time. You are welcome to come home with me now, but we'll probably spend the night playing cards and watching TV."
"No thanks. I'd better head home in that case. I have a lot of work to catch up on."
"Is it regarding that guy killing hookers? I saw it on the news, how awful."
"Yes. We'll catch him eventually, don't worry."
"I hope you do."
"Listen, I had a great time tonight, but with the butcher on the loose I don't know how many free evenings I'll get. So I can't make a definite plan for the next date."
"Saturday evening, let's grab dinner and a movie."
"What if the butcher strikes again?"
"I have a feeling he'll hold off. After all, who kills on a weekend?"
They laughed at this bit of light humour as she climbed into the passenger seat. The drive was pretty short. She lived over on Washington Heights. He got out of the car and opened her door for her. She giggled at this antiquated show of courtesy. He proceeded to escort her to her apartment door. Then, he planted a soft kiss on her cheek and turned to leave.
"Wait. Did you really enjoy the date?"
"Of course, why do you ask?"
"Because you just kissed me like you kiss your grandmother."
Saying this, she grabbed hold of the back of his head and mashed her lips against his. Her tongue forcefully entered his mouth and explored around. She wrapped her arms around his neck and just hung on like that as he reciprocated back as best he could. After a minute or so, she unlocked her door and tried to pull him inside. Just at the last second, he pulled away from her lips.
"I'm sorry, I can't do it tonight. Maybe next time."
Even before Monica had a chance to reply he was gone.
---
As I climbed into the car, my mind was in a tizzy. A deluge of thoughts flooded me. This date was with the one person keenest to catch me. Yet, she seems like my best chance at salvation. To start with, I had been putting on a superficial show, but towards the end of the night, I had actually grown fond of her. She on the other hand, seemed to genuinely like me, unaware that the most wanted man in New York just kissed her. Small world.
Maybe that was why I pulled away. Subconsciously, I knew what had happened the last time I had sex. Of course, I didn't have a knife this time and even then the chances I could kill a trained detective were slim. Given Monica's strength, the more likely outcome was flying out of her window onto the pavement five stories below. But even then, I didn't want to risk it.
While driving back, I passed a corner teeming with hookers. I felt a twinge of sadness looking at them. It was probably the most unsafe profession right now, but economic hardships and drugs had made them immune to fear. They just waited, hoping the butcher didn't come along.
A few latent desires popped up in my mind. I was tempted to stop the car and pick one of them up.
"No not so soon. I just indulged a few nights back. I can't let this get more frequent."
I read somewhere on the net that serial killers kill with shorter gaps as they gain more experience. I can already feel the intent, but I have to restrain. After an hour of driving, I reached my house. It was late, but Mrs. Freemont was eagerly waiting for him. She wanted to know how the date went.
"Fine. I really like her. It might go somewhere."
She dropped her tone a bit, "I've known her and her mother for ages. She may be a tough, strong woman on the outside, but she hides a vulnerable core. I am sure right now, she is in her room praying for those dead girls on TV and crying. She cannot see suffering and death anywhere. That is why she went into the force, to wipe out scum like the butcher. Lord, help him the day he is caught, for she will extract a violent vengeance on him. He will probably wish he had killed himself too."
I gulped at the last sentence.
Seriously Lord, help me.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousabout 4 years agoI don’t know, I have mixed emotions. It’s scary reading from that POV. I’m still going to finish reading this story..because that’s all it is. A story. At least it’s something different to read.
Anonymousover 4 years agoI can't identify with a serial killer and consider the story a romance.
Anonymousabout 7 years agoLike someone else stated I'm not a fan of serial killer as main characters. Even if he reforms, I can't see a happy ending. So, on one hand, I would like to save myself from reading a sad story.
On the other hand, the story is original and there might be a twist. I hope so, otherwise I think I'm going to hate it.
Anonymousover 7 years agoThis is directed to the previous two hate-filled buffoons. Please add links to your highly rated respective stories or shut up. It's fine to suggest more adjectives and even to say that this is not your style. To criticize an author without providing examples of your own excellence is neither constructive nor polite. You are rude, shallow, thoughtless, and stupid. You may or may not be ignorant. BTW, is that enough adjectives for you?
Anonymousover 7 years agonot impressed.you cant write worth a shit dude. you dont even know what to emphasize or cut out all together. draaaaaaggggiiing nothing pertinent to the the storyline. the names are kinda catchy but devereux and simon. cmon played out..use more decriptive adjectives while painting an image of the atmosphere for the reader as they read.
example. As Simon glanced back up after fidgeting for his newports he never stopped smoking like he claimed, standing under the rustic 40s style saloon doors ndvjnjdlnadjlbhjdfbjvdjvcnxk the light from the rustic lamp shimmied off the freshly stocked indoor ponf
