I plan to skip over the rape, what fun would it be without the crying, and the begging? Straddling her naked torso, with knife in hand I intend to slit her throat. To my surprise she brings her head up, looks me square in the eye, and spits right in my fucking face.

I’m not all that offended. After all she did just give me a reason to keep this going.

"Tell me you can get it hard for something other than a child."

I remove myself from her lap. Aiden takes my place within seconds. My words making what I want him to do more than obvious.

I let him go on for hours. Making sure he fucks her every way possible… maybe I was a little offended.

"Pull out."

My command is sharp, he follows it within seconds. This time I’m positive she’s given up her fight.

I think having Aiden inside of you is more than enough punishment. When I approach her I drag the blade across her throat before she even has time to look into my eyes.

~

That was one of the only three times I ever fooled around with that kind of torture. I’d much rather chase them around their houses, and have them scream and throw shit at me. Way more exciting.

"You a people watcher?"

A soft voice pulls me from my thoughts.

Jesus fuck the cards are so on my fucking side.

"Excuse me?"

The blonde laughs, gives a shrug of her shoulders, and nods off to the red head I had been staring at.

"You’ve been staring at that red head for quite some time now… and before that it was the brunette over there." She says while pointing in the opposite direction.

"…I guess you could say I like trying to figure out people’s story’s." I say in my ‘sexy voice’.

She nods, places her elbows on the counter, and leans forward.

"Well what about me? What’s my story?"

A part of me actually feels bad. What kind of parents does this girl have? This is LA she should know better than to strike up conversation with a total stranger… Not that I should be complaining.

"Hmmm…" I use her question as an excuse to rake my eyes over her body. She look much better than the picture.

"I’d say your Ms. All-American. High school girl, cheerleader, straight A student trapped in a web of misery." I laugh as whole heartedly as I can when I finish my sentence, trying to keep up the friendly atmosphere.

She laughs along with me for a few moments.

"Can I try you?"

I nod.

"Judging by the fact that you seem to be here by yourself I’d say your probably a brooding loner with a violent temper. Sent here on your therapists recommendation to get out more… This isn’t the first time you’ve tried to step outside of your whole ‘I’m better off on my own’ deal, but you can’t seem to shake it completely. Which is why you probably like to watch people, you don’t have the balls to actually meet them."

She surprises me. Which is odd because that rarely ever happens. I didn’t expect her to be this forward. I’m slightly taken back by her strong, confident personality.

"Well, I assure you I don’t have a violent temper, or a therapist."

She takes her elbows off of the table and offers me her hand.

"Spencer."

I take her hand in mind before responding.

"Ashley."

"I’m not Miss America." She states simply, our hands still connected as we talk.

"Well then, maybe we should get to know each other."

She tilts her head, smiling before running her free hand though her blonde locks.

"Maybe we should."