Post by thomaselliot on Jan 24, 2010 8:12:08 GMT -5
There was a fiery looking redhead giving him a look over from the end of the bar couple of hours ago. The memory of the events of the last couples of hours were blurry. In fact, the only thing that Thomas remembered was that she tried to make a move on him. It isn’t long before Thomas finds himself in a small, well-kept apartment. Ruby’s place (that was the name she used to introduce herself) wasn't so surprising. She was a stripper, and he couldn’t help the smirk on his face at imagining her in couple of minutes. Ruby was not going to know what it was just about to hit her.
Thomas' hands up her legs as she gently guided him to the bedroom. Elliot simple shed his shirt along the way, his left hand reaching behind him, for the large butcher knife tucked in the sheath in the back of his jeans. And then she stripped for him. She untied the belt of her coat and starting from the top began to unbutton it. The flawless pink swell of her breasts was revealed first and then the lacy arabesques of her white silk bra. Her sleek torso, tiny waist, and taut belly came into view as her elegant fingers undid the lower buttons. Finally, as she opened the coat, her white lacy thong and creamy thighs were revealed as kneel before him. She tossed the coat on the floor with a languid sweep of her arm.
Gently, he fingered the handle as he slipped into her bedroom just to find her lying across the bed in red lingerie, his favorite color. Her eyes hungrily traveled all over his torso and chest as he cattily climbed on top of the bed, crawling toward her. Thomas got closer, but bypassed her mouth all together, getting a mewl of disappointment out of her. And unexpectedly his hands were around her throat and she stiffened beneath him, her eyes going wide. Ruby shoved and pushed harder against Thomas, but everything was fruitless. He was much stronger than she was. Tears began slipping from the corner of her eyes, and he bend down, his tongue hot as he lapped at her tears.
Hush was eager to see as much blood as possible. He pressed the tip of the knife a little too firmly at the hollow of her throat, a fountain of crimson bubbled up and he leaned down to taste it. A sweet coppery taste, god, he loved it. He brought the blade closer to her body. Thomas was an artist with a knife, he pulled the blade open, slicing into her flesh, blood from the knife making a single sweeping arch up the pale wall, splatters along the edges and top to add to the artistry. His job was done here.
Thomas wasn't even worried about leaving evidence behind him. The bed was too saturated with her blood for him to have left any fingerprints on her, the blood was still wet and bright red, still fresh. Quickly, he examined the room and took her blouse from the floor and then he used it to wipe down any of the surfaces he may have touched and then he got out of the room. He picked up his shirt from where he dropped it, pulled it over his head, and again goes over all of the surfaces he may have touched in the room. He took a last glance at the clock in the apartment, four A.M. Time to leave. Thomas put on his mask, moved down the hall and took the stairs. No one sees him, but then again, with all his years of training . No one had ever done it before.
Thomas' hands up her legs as she gently guided him to the bedroom. Elliot simple shed his shirt along the way, his left hand reaching behind him, for the large butcher knife tucked in the sheath in the back of his jeans. And then she stripped for him. She untied the belt of her coat and starting from the top began to unbutton it. The flawless pink swell of her breasts was revealed first and then the lacy arabesques of her white silk bra. Her sleek torso, tiny waist, and taut belly came into view as her elegant fingers undid the lower buttons. Finally, as she opened the coat, her white lacy thong and creamy thighs were revealed as kneel before him. She tossed the coat on the floor with a languid sweep of her arm.
Gently, he fingered the handle as he slipped into her bedroom just to find her lying across the bed in red lingerie, his favorite color. Her eyes hungrily traveled all over his torso and chest as he cattily climbed on top of the bed, crawling toward her. Thomas got closer, but bypassed her mouth all together, getting a mewl of disappointment out of her. And unexpectedly his hands were around her throat and she stiffened beneath him, her eyes going wide. Ruby shoved and pushed harder against Thomas, but everything was fruitless. He was much stronger than she was. Tears began slipping from the corner of her eyes, and he bend down, his tongue hot as he lapped at her tears.
Hush was eager to see as much blood as possible. He pressed the tip of the knife a little too firmly at the hollow of her throat, a fountain of crimson bubbled up and he leaned down to taste it. A sweet coppery taste, god, he loved it. He brought the blade closer to her body. Thomas was an artist with a knife, he pulled the blade open, slicing into her flesh, blood from the knife making a single sweeping arch up the pale wall, splatters along the edges and top to add to the artistry. His job was done here.
Thomas wasn't even worried about leaving evidence behind him. The bed was too saturated with her blood for him to have left any fingerprints on her, the blood was still wet and bright red, still fresh. Quickly, he examined the room and took her blouse from the floor and then he used it to wipe down any of the surfaces he may have touched and then he got out of the room. He picked up his shirt from where he dropped it, pulled it over his head, and again goes over all of the surfaces he may have touched in the room. He took a last glance at the clock in the apartment, four A.M. Time to leave. Thomas put on his mask, moved down the hall and took the stairs. No one sees him, but then again, with all his years of training . No one had ever done it before.
