Cease to Exist

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 2 (v.1)

Submitted: March 05, 2013

Reads: 86

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 05, 2013



Chapter Two


“Stupid...stupid...stupid!”  I knew it was a mistake, the moment I kicked open the door. 

Listening with my left ear not quite close enough to look suspicious if someone were to see me, I heard the clatter of the chain being lifted from the door.  I saw the doorknob slowly begin to turn, and without thinking I reacted like a predatory animal going in for the kill; instantaneous and viscous.

I quickly entered the tiny apartment and closed the door behind me, hoping no one had heard the commotion.  I slid the security chain back in its place and turned around.  The bitch was lying on the floor moaning, rubbing her forehead where the wooden door took her by surprise.  Before she had a chance to recognize me, I kicked her in the side of the head enjoying the connection my boot had with both flesh and bone.  Its pointed tip made a substantial gash allowing a flow of blood to slowly puddle around her head.  I knew without a doubt she wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

I stepped over her lifeless body unsure of what to do next.  Do I toss the place making it look like a robbery gone badly?  Or do I just finish the bitch off and hope everything works out as planned?  I had so many questions and too little time to figure out the answers.  The only thing I knew for sure was that she was going to die, and I was going to be the one to slaughter her.

I imagined putting the drill bit to the side of her temple then pushing the red power button ever so slowly.  I wanted her to feel the pain of a hole being drilled through her skull, deep into her brain, while I admired the curlicues of skin, then blood and bone dripping onto the floor below me.  I was becoming aroused just thinking about it.

I looked down at her while I tried to figure out what to do next.  Thankfully, I could clearly see the rise and fall of her chest so I knew I had not killed her. 

“At least I didn’t fuck that up,” I murmured.  I had already made the mistake of kicking in her door when I had no intentions of even confronting her today.  There was no use dwelling on what I knew I could not change.  The only thing I could do now was alter the plan and hope for the best. 

While I decided what to do next, I made my way to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of beer.  I twisted off the cap and took a long swallow, enjoying the iciness of the cold brew as it slid down my throat.

I was just finishing my second bottle of beer when I heard a soft moan coming from the living room.  Time was running out and I knew what I had to do.

I hurried back to the adjoining room, put my boot upside her head again to knock her out for the second time and quickly trashed the place.  I was like a madman tearing books off the bookshelf, emptying the contents of drawers, overturning furniture as I went through the entire apartment, as if I were a burglar looking for anything of value. 

I was just coming out of the tiny bedroom when I heard banging on the front door.  The sound startled me and my heart dropped to my toes.  I had to get out of there and quick.  I wasn’t worried about fingerprints or DNA.  I had been in her apartment many times and my fingerprints were no doubt already there.  I rushed back to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of beer to go and quickly left through the fire escape, hoping no one would notice someone hurrying down the rusted stairs.





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