A woman covered in blood lay panting heavily on the cold, wet cement.
Quiet footsteps slowly walked towards her writhing form; chains rattling as she tried to crawl away from him.
Zayne tauntingly circled her, being sure to keep the hammer in her line of vision.
She eyes it warily, already knowing what was next to come.
"You're very strong, Taylor. I'm going to enjoy breaking you." He whispers into the dark basement, lit only by candles.
Striking as deadly as a rattlesnake, he slams the hammer into her knee, making Taylor scream in agony as she struggles to get away from her tormentor.
But it was no use; she was chained to the floor, unable to move more than a few centimeters.
"Slow down. Don't run; we've only just begun to play." Zayne teases with an insane smile.
Next, he smashes her left hand; earning another scream from Taylor, who glares at him and spits at his face.
Gasping for air, she mutters out a spiteful "Go to Hell." under her breath.
His smile quickly turns into a dark scowl as he wipes the spit off his face.
Raising the bloodied tool over his head he calmly states "You shouldn't have done that."; before smashing her face in repeatedly.
Calmly standing back up, Zayne unchains her wrists and stuffs her body lazily into a garbage bag, before carelessly dragging her up the stairs and into the back of his truck.
Driving through the middle of nowhere for a couple of hours, he finally finds the perfect spot to get rid of her.
Grabbing a shovel from the back, he digs a rectangular grave six feet deep, and two feet wide.
Dropping the limp figure into the hole without the garbage bag, he casually walks back to his vehicle and siphons out some gasoline into a tin can.
Dumping the gas into the hole, he takes out his lighter and a piece of paper; then proceeds to light it before dropping the burning receipt.
He watches stoically as Taylor's body begins to blacken, skin peeling off and the smell of burnt flesh filling the air.
He puts the metal can he had used to siphon the gas in the back of the old truck; enjoying the feel of cold morning air numbing his face.
Once she was all ash, he carefully fills the hole and levels the dirt around the unmarked grave.
"May your soul forever be in pain." Zayne says emotionlessly before driving away; after of course covering his tracks meticulously.
On the drive home, Zayne found himself realizing something was missing in his life.
It wasn't anything as boring as a significant other; he has no need for something so idiotic. What he needed was a partner; an apprentice.
Of course, he was extremely picky and the potential student had to fit all of his criteria.
He wanted someone submissive; someone who was as twisted as he isand young.
He or she had to have an inner darkness just waiting to be unleashed; preferably someone who was blood thirsty like himself.
But what were the chances of finding someone who fit all of those characteristics?
When he pulled into the driveway, the first things he decides needed doing was to clean up the basement with bleach andget rid ofhis bloody clothes in his burn pile out back.
He never has to worry about neighbors since he lives in the middle of nowhere.
With no people for miles, and no main roads or highways anywhere near his house, he was safe to bring his victims home.
Yes, it was the perfect spot for his killings.
Soon though, it would be the perfect spot for his teaching.
Now the only problem was where he was going to look for his student.
Oh well, he would think more on it in the morning.
He was tired and the earlier he went to bed the earlier he would wake.
The early bird always gets the worm, right? Zayne thinks to himself with a sadistic grin imagining all that he would do to break his apprentice into their new role.