"Listen babe, I'm not going to hurt you." I slide the tip of my knife under the crying girl's neck.

"P- please don't kill me. Just let me go I- I promise I won't tell anyone." She pleads.

I step back from the red haired girl pressed against the wall. "You know what? I actually let a bitch go in the beginning and you know what she did? She ran and told the cops on me. Can you believe that? I trusted her to not tell because I actually felt sorry for her." I purr in her ear. "I know you're not going to tell. Wanna know how?" She whimpers as I drag the tip of my knife down her cheek, leaving a trail of blood. "Cause you're not going to have anyone to tell it to but the dead."

She shrieks and starts to pull from the handcuffs, causing her wrists to become red and angry. "Why are you doing this?" She yells at me.

I laugh my psychotically evil laugh that I shamelessly practiced in the mirror so many times before. "Cause honey, I'm a psychopath." I drag a medical cart over to us, except it doesn't have medical supplies. It holds torture gear. "Shall we begin?" I smile at her and my heart beats fast as the adrenaline shoots through my body. My favorite feeling and this was the only thing that could do it. 

I brush my hand over the various objects that can hold certain death, feeling their cold metals against my warm fingertips. "You know what, sugar? I'm going to let you decide how we'll play. How does that sound?" I look up at her, drawing my eyes away from the beautiful devices. The fear in her eyes was satisfying and I wanted to see more in them. She suddenly lets out a wailing scream. I hate when they scream and I'm not even doing anything to them. I clench my fist to avoid from choking her pale neck that was covered in dried blood. Not yet. 

"Let. Me. Go." She says with clenched teeth and tears and blood from a head wound running down her face.

"We've only been together for a few months, honey. Why would you want to leave so soon?" I tease her. "Choose. " She shakes her head. "Choose!" I yell in her dirty face and bring my fist down on the wall next to her head which only makes her cry harder.

"N-no." She sobs and that sets me off. I feel my face turn red with anger and my head gets foggy with the rising blood pressure. I could hear my heart in my ears and all I want is to see her bleed out.

"No? No?! What do you mean no?!" I spit in her face. She turns her cheek from me. No. I hate that word. I want to rip the throat out of whoever invented that word. 

"Please, I'll do whatever you want!" She sobs hysterically.

"What? Sleep with me?" I laugh in her face. "Sorry babe, but you're just not my type." I smile at her shivering, naked form, taking it all in before I grab the syringe filled with poison and inject her in the neck.

Her brown eyes slowly die of light as she gasps for air. A mixture of foam and blood seep out from her open lips as she becomes weaker and weaker and eventually falls limp into the handcuffs. I dig for the key in my pocket and uncuff her from the wall and watch as her weight drags her to the floor like a doll being dropped out of a child's arms. I drag her lifeless body onto the dirty mattress that she slept on during her stay and then grab a body bag from the closet of the small bedroom in the basement. It's not really a bedroom, it's more of an empty room with handcuffs mounted to the wall with a mattress next to another pair of cuffs with a longer chain,  along with a light built into the ceiling and a small closet full of various stuff.

I stuff her lifeless body into the slick black bag. I think her name was Jessica or Alice or something like that. I don't really care to be honest. She tried to seduce me a lot. Why was it that when put in a life or death situation, the girls always tried to fuck their way out of it? 

"Bet you wish you never joined that dating site." I sneer at her lifeless body. I grab the little blue Polaroid from the ground where I had set it there when I came down here and snap a picture of the girl's body in the bag. This will definitely go on my wall of victims, for this is my tenth victim since I started killing.

I drag the bag to the door that led to some concrete stairs to the outside instead of my house. I pull out my cell phone and dial Liam.

He picks up his phone after a few rings. "Hello?" He sounds sleepy and annoyed. It was one in the morning, so I don't blame him. 

"Hey, Li, I need your help." I kick the bag with my toe.

"Don't tell me you killed her without me." He sighed.

"She got on my nerves."

"Always gotta take the fun parts!" He complains.

"Don't worry, I'll find another one soon. In the meantime, can you help me bury her?" I ask.

"You know it mate. I'll be over in ten minutes with the shovels. We can bury her in that burnt down house." He suggests.

"I don't see why we can't just bury her with the rest of the victims."

He sighs. Not only was Liam my friend, but he was my mentor on how to not be caught. He was an ex marine who was trained to torture and kill enemies in war. He was the best interrogator they had in in Iraq, but he got psychologically discharged after he had a mental break and tried to torture his fellow soldiers thinking they were the enemy.

  "And give the cops the benefit to find all of them at once? I think not. We also never buried but two together." He points out.

"Exactly."

"No. We're going to bury her in that ruined, burnt house down the road from you." He finalizes.

"Fine." I quickly agree and hang up. It was almost two in the morning so it was still dark and perfect for transporting the bag from the house to my darkened car. I then waited in my car for Liam to show up.

I'm not afraid of anyone seeing me because I own lots of land surrounded by woods. The house was inherited from my deceased mother, which included a three stories with six bedrooms and three baths along with a half finished basement. It was finished until you opened a door that led to a storage space where I keep my victims.

Soon Liam pulls up the long drive, he has a key to the front gate so he can come and go. He gets the shovels out of the trunk and transfers them to my trunk and then hops in the passenger side of my beater of a car. Who would expect a beat up old car to kill someone in such a nice estate? I whip out a cigarette to calm my nerves. I still get anxious and it annoys me. I want to be- no, I need to be stone cold. Emotions can get you killed or worse, caught. 

"Next time you wait for me to help kill them. It's gotta be slow and painful." Liam scolds me as I light the cig with a swift motion. I roll my eyes and turn the key in the ignition. He wasn't the one who had to hear her annoying voice screaming for her pathetic little life. If he did, he would want her to shut up quickly too.

I turn the car around and drive down the drive and through the open gate, Liam gets out and closes it. I study his reflection as he walks back towards the car. He seems stern and cold, not a sign of tiredness or remorse in his face. The traits of a true serial killer, the next Ted Bundy if you will. 

 We continue ten miles down the road till we come to a dead end marked by boulders that would stop a car from crashing through them and possibly killing the riders on impact depending on the speed they were going. The burnt house is a few miles into the woods. It was owned by two meth dealers who had a batch blow up on them while they were away, probably tripping in the woods somewhere. I can't remember if the cops caught them or not, but no one tries to look for it really since it is just a frame and rubble. 

We reach the house quickly and I drop the bag on the ground with a heaving breath, that girl wasn't very light. We begin to shovel right by the old stoop. The ground was hard in the cold fall night, but not frozen.  We shoveled until our backs burned like acid was injected with acid and within three hours we finished. Tired and sweating, we open the bag and dump the girl's body in the hole and quickly cover it up. It's a good sized hole, about six feet deep vertically so no one should be able to dig her up quickly if they find her. Which they won't. 

We drag the bag and shovels back to the car. If anyone saw us right now, they would definitely call the cops. Two sweaty, dirty men carrying a black nylon body bag with shovels in it would raise so many red flags if I wasn't the one on the killer end. I toss Liam the keys and he catches them in flawlessly and I climb into the passenger side of my car. 

"When are you finally going to cave in and buy a new car?" Liam asked as he tried to push the seat back and failed. It was bolted into my position because it had broken off the track a week after I bought it. 'This piece of junk is going to fall apart while driving it one day."

It was funny seeing Liam's knees hitting the steering wheel. "It still runs and gets the job done" I reply. Truth be told, I can't afford another car. Being a full time killer meant no time for a job. I was living off my inheritance from my mother, and at this point it was barely enough for a cup of coffee.  

 Liam didn't say another word to me on the drive back to my house, living in the victory of killing another one I suppose. The radio was the only thing breaking the silence. I didn't recognize the song though. I really need to get out more. 

Once we get back, the energy picks up between us with the realization that we are becoming the world's best killers. I make mimics of how the girl acted towards me to Liam and he laughs at my high pitched "no! Please don't kill me!". I grab two beers out of the fridge and pop them open, handing one to Liam. 

"Cheers to a successful kill!" I hold up my bottle to Liam.

"Next time, wait for me. I don't want to miss out on all the fun." He clinks his glass to mine and smiles.

My phone buzzes in my pocket as I get not one, but two notifications from a dating website I'm on to catch my victims. I open the app and I look at the two people interested in me. An average looking girl with blonde hair and brown eyes named Daisy, and a pretty boy with curly brown hair named Harry. This is the first male I've attracted. Something in my stomach flips from excitement of switching things up.

"Well well well, Liam, things are about to get interesting." I say as I open up a chat with Harry.