"Jenny, I love you."

Peter spoke as he wrapped both his hands around my neck, strangling me from behind.

*guuk*

Gagging and gasping for air, I pulled at Peter's grasp choking me in an attempt to free myself from his clutch. As that proved to be of no avail, I frantically clawed at his arms and dug my nails into Peter's fingers. Yet Peter's tight hold remained as stiff and unmoving as steel.

Air began to run low, and throating noises involuntarily escaped from my mouth.

"Gug, uggugh!"

My eyeballs shot upwards as the eyelids trembled. Once asphyxiation had deprived enough oxygen so that my arms drooped down and no longer was helplessly fluttering about, Peter released his choke and violently jerked me away.

"Guugh, ack!"

I initially was smashed against wooden wall of the building, then fell limp on the concrete floor, coughing. In my moment of desperately trying to regain breath, I heard Peter encroach closer as he rustled around through the pockets of his black windbreakers.

"Jenny, I want you to stay still while I prepare, okay?"

Peter's hand reached out to my right arm and pressed it firmly to the wooden wall. He grunted out.

"Hup!"

With a bang a screwdriver drove it's way through the back of my right hand, skewering it to the wall. In my dazed and breathless state, I felt every moment of the pain which followed. First the outer layer of skin ripped. Then the cold steelwork rammed into the flesh, grinding against the bone and muscle. Finally another hole opened up in my outer skin at my palm as the screwdriver completely penetrated my hand and was nailed to the wall. The sensation was as if a trillion bee stings and paper-cuts were simultaneously applied on to a narrow spot on my hand, both inside and outside, while my fingers were being sandpapered away.

"Ahhhh-!, *gulg*, ugrgh, uh-"

My body instinctively let out a shrill shriek of suffering, which quickly transitioned into fluctuant coughs and gags as I still hadn't inhaled in the sufficient amount of air to even scream.

"Gu ugh, ack.."

In a trifecta of wanting to howl in pain, attempting to stabilize my breath, and the head clouding with confusion of what was happening; I experienced absolute hell.

Why? Why is Peter doing this?

That question continuously rang within my head as I twitched pathetically on the cold stone floor.

When I had first met Peter, he was every bit perfect no matter how I look at him. One part gorgeous, and one part heartwarming. He was from India, with dark brown skin and an all-consuming pitch black gaze. Peter never talked to anyone; he always sat at the back of class in school doing everything but pay attention to the teacher rambling about grammar and other nonsense.

He was the dream boy. However, no other girls in the school ever could manage to get as much as a single word out of him; much less strike up a conversation. Students had zero information about Peter. No one knew any of his friends, or if he even had any. He was just someone I could admire from a distance, and not someone I expected to get close to.

Yet all that changed over a single lunch break.

I was seated in the cafeteria, munching away at a Subway sandwich the boys had smuggled in and sold. Suddenly there was a tap on my shoulder. I turned back and there was Peter, wearing a smile on his lips.

He knelt down like a knight, stared into my eyes, and spoke.

"Jennifer. You are the single most beautiful being I have ever seen. I love you."

Sure, it might be odd that someone who I had never once spoken a syllable to came to me and confessed their love to me out of nowhere.

But this was Peter.

Hell, he could've said the same thing covered in blood and holding a severed head, and I still would have freaked out(in a gleeful way) and bombarded him with kisses. No need to say what happened then when he was dressed in tight jeans and a magnificent jacket.

From that forward day Peter would call me on the weekends, inviting me to restaurants or theme parks. We had it going pretty well; Peter seemed to adore every aspect of me, and I was just happy to exist in the moments I was with him.

One day as we walked home from a date, Peter stopped me in my tracks and held my shoulder with a hand on each side.

"Jenny, I think I finally do love you enough to tell you this; I love you more than anything else, and I can't imagine a single day without you. That's why I want to take you somewhere. Somewhere really special."

How could I say no? I hopped into his car, and Peter drove us to an odd, forest-y path. Whenever I asked where we were headed, he joyfully said;

"A place where we can truly love."

I recalled thinking that he's awfully poetic and straightforward about sex.

After an hour-drive, we reached a small, wooden warehouse. Eh, kills the mood but I'll make do. It was half past 10pm, and the surrounding foliage and woods were sodden with a tenebrous mist.

Peter creaked the door open, flipped some switches, and the light came on. The place was absolutely empty except for a drawer that rested on the corner of the warehouse.

I walked in, facing forward, studying the place. When I was just about to ask if there were any blankets in the car, Peter spoke.

"Jenny, I love you."

Then the hand came to my neck.

Why? How did I get here?

I broke out of my flashback and was back in reality. My breath finally caught back up; and as I wheezed in a couple deep breaths two thing came to my attention.

First, the screwdriver rammed into my hand. The throbbing torment was brought clearly and directly to my brain as I took better grasp of the situation. The bee-sting sensation morphed to the feeling of having a magnifying glass propped over your hand as the lens glared down a condensed gleam of sunlight and heat to the flesh. In other words, it burned like an inferno.

Second, Peter had walked toward the single drawer that had been in the warehouse, had scavenged through it, and was now slyly creeping back with a sheathed survival knife to where I laid helpless.

While I still had only little understanding of how thing ended up like this, the sight of a blade gave me an educated guess as to what was going to end up happening. I raised my intact left arm, and pled for mercy.

"...Pe-ter... ...please...."

The black, leather sheath came off the knife and landed on the floor with a thump. Peter had the same smile he had on the day he spoke to me.

"I love you, Jennifer."

Peter gripped the blade with his left hand, and pressed my forehead down against the wall with his right hand.

"I love you."

Swiftly, the pointed edge was thrusted unto my neck, and was quickly pulled out. Bits of shredded meat and blood spewed from the knife's entrance.

*uhguck*

I simultaneously choked on my own blood and saliva. In that moment my eye's met Peter's, gazing delightfully at the wound on my neck. He carelessly tossed the bloodied weapon to the ground. Clank clack clack.

"Oh god, Jenny...."

His voice shook with an odd, crazed... glee.

Peter knelt down to my eye level, and laid his mouth over my open esophagus and central arteries. I felt... sucking, and blood being rushed out from me even more rapidly than before.

*uhhhhhh*

Air channeled into my mouth as Peter's sucking drew out immense amounts of it from my neck. It felt as if a giant, liquid needle was shoved down from the mouth and made an exit through the middle of the throat.

Peter jerked his head back, and screeched in a blood-curdled speech.

*glug* "Oh god, OH GOD! JENNY! Jenny, I LOVE YOU!"

He went back to leeching, continuously going back and forth.

"I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, YES!"

My vision darkened, as my body grew colder with the blood being drawn out.

This was the end.

CANDYGIRL202
1204 words.