No, You Hang Up

by A.J. Merlin

“You’re a deliciously feisty thing, aren’t you?” he coos, and the plastic of his mask slides coolly against my face as he pretends to nuzzle my cheek.

“How is my karma this bad, huh?” I’m still talking to myself. “Fucked over as a kid, and now the state’s most prepared serial killer is in my house. Damn it!”

“Want me to be your wolf, little bunny? I’ll gladly close my jaws around this pretty throat and remind you that you’re prey. Oh, fuck—” He thrusts hard into me again. “We’re into some dark shit, aren’t we, Kai?”

“You little fucked up thing. Drugged out of your mind and you still want this. You want me to be your predator. To ruin you, to tear out your throat with my teeth.” He leans down to click his teeth together near my face. “That’s it. Your greedy pussy grips me so good when I do that.”

“No one is going to call the cops for you if you scream. Do you know why?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Because you’ll only get one chance. You’ll scream once, if that, then this night will become a lot less fun for you. I’ll carve out your pretty tongue.” “I can still scream without a tongue.” “Then I’ll slit your vocal chords and fuck your mouth while you bleed out in the grass.”

“Oh, that was really scary of me, wasn’t it?” Huxley laughs. “Sorry, pretty girl. I get a little carried away, sometimes.” He sheathes the knife, his gloved hand coming back to grip my face in his long fingers. “This is new for me, you know? Playing with someone without the intention of…” he trails off pointedly, but I don’t need him to finish the sentence.

“You always taste so good, little bunny,” he groans. “So good for me, you know that? Fuck, maybe God finally loves me for something, or I’ve pleased the devil enough for him to have sent you to me. You were made for me, weren’t you? Made to be fucked like I own you.”

It’s hard to be afraid of him when he’s like this. It’s hard to remember that he’s a murderer. Or that he drugged me, then came back and threatened to cut out my tongue.