Muse of Ruin

by Stephanie Hurst

I hate the term serial killer because it sounds too trivial. Artist is more appropriate, and Graham just became piece number twenty-five.

Many girls dream of a knight in shining armour rescuing them from certain peril. Not me. I stripped the knight, threw his naked ass out, and used his armour to make deadly weapons.

Do you behave like this on purpose, Calliope? You enjoy my punishments, don’t you?

The pain of losing my home is nothing compared to my business. This place was home to my inner monster. My business tethered the good Callie, the person I desperately wanted to be. With that gone, only my darkness remains, and without my home, she roams free.

“I know Atlas is trying to stalk me like a shitty ninja while you hope to distract me.”

Calliope splits me in two. Half of me desperately wants to wrap my hands around her pretty little neck and relish the life draining from her sultry golden eyes. The other half begs to pin her down while twisting her fiery red locks around my fist and thrusting deep inside her warm cunt.

“Choking on my cock suits you. You take it too well when you expect it.”