Chapter 8

Krystal awoke to the soft glow of the morning light filtering through her curtains, the familiar weight of her thoughts pressing down on her as she slowly rolled out of bed. The air was cool against her bare skin, sending a shiver down her spine. She stretched her arms above her head, feeling her muscles tighten, her nipples hardening in the chill.

“Another day,” she muttered, yawning.

She walked over to the bathroom and brushed her teeth, the minty taste washing away the stale taste of sleep from her mouth. She then jumped in the shower, the warm water waking her up, her body tingling as the heat soaked into her skin.

As she shampooed her hair, her mind wandered to the conversation she had with Mark, the excitement of their upcoming interaction coursing through her veins. She thought of him standing over her, his hands wrapped around her throat, his face a mixture of lust and desperation as he choked her to death.

Her fingers found their way to her clit, and she rubbed herself slowly, her body responding to the stimulation. She felt the warmth between her thighs, the heat radiating from her pussy as her orgasm began to build. She closed her eyes, letting the image of Mark’s face fill her mind as she worked her clit faster, her fingers sliding over her sensitive bud.

“God, I can’t wait,” she whispered, her body trembling as she came, her orgasm pulsing through her.

She rinsed the shampoo from her hair and turned off the shower, stepping out onto the cool floor. She grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her body, the soft fabric rubbing against her skin.

“What should I wear?” she muttered, looking in the mirror.

She made her way to her closet and rummaged through the clothes, trying to decide what would be best. She eventually settled on a skimpy black dress that showed off her small breasts and flat stomach, paired with a pair of high heels that added a few inches to her petite frame.

“Give them a show.” She giggled, slipping the dress over her head.

She stood in front of the mirror, checking her reflection. She could see her nipples poking through the thin fabric, and the lack of panties was obvious, but she didn’t care. It was her final week alive, and she was determined to make it one worth remembering.

“Ready or not, here I come.” She said, smiling.

With a deep breath, she stepped out of the apartment and into the hall, her high heels clicking on the floor as she made her way to the elevator.

As Krystal stepped into the office, the familiar buzz of chatter and the hum of computers filled the air. She made her way to her cubicle, her heels clicking on the tile floor, drawing attention from a few coworkers. Among them was Tom, his gaze drifting down her body, lingering on her exposed cleavage.

“Good morning, Krystal,” he said, his voice sounding friendly.

“Morning,” she replied, trying to sound pleasant.

“You’re looking really nice today,” he continued, his eyes still fixed on her chest.

“Thanks,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Hope you enjoy the view.”

“Oh, I definitely will,” Tom smirked.

She shook her head as she continued walking, her heels clicking loudly as she passed Tom. She made her way to her cubicle, the same drab workspace she had occupied for the past few years. With a sigh, she sat down and booted up her computer, the screen flickering to life, the familiar desktop staring back at her.

“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered, logging into her email.

A flood of new messages popped up, all demanding her immediate attention. She scanned through them, her eyes glazing over the seemingly endless list of tasks.

As Krystal settled into her work routine, she noticed something felt off. The usual chatter that filled the office was replaced by a hushed tone, the voices lowered and whispers exchanged. She then noticed that Jasmine’s bright smile and animated conversations were absent.

Krystal glanced at the clock, then back across the hall. The absence of her friend weighed heavily on her mind, a feeling she wasn’t used to. It was unusual for Jasmine to miss a day without a heads-up, and the fact that she hadn’t heard from her was unsettling.

Krystal rose from her chair and walked to Jasmine’s cubicle. She stood at the entrance, scanning the area for any sign of her friend. The desk was empty, her laptop closed and pushed aside, her purse nowhere in sight.

“Where are you, Jas?” Krystal whispered.

She turned and walked back into the narrow hall, looking up and down the rows of cubicles, but still no sign of her. She walked around until she found someone she knew the name of.

“Hey, Tom,” she said, catching him off guard.

“Oh, uh, hi,” he stammered, turning from his monitor to face her. “What’s up?”

“Do you know where Jasmine is? She didn’t come into work today.”

Tom shifted in his chair, his expression turning serious. He was looking Krystal in the eyes, not even flicking down to her breasts in the skimpy black dress.

“I thought you would have heard from someone else by now,” Tom said, his voice soft. “It’s ... it’s not good, Krystal.”

A chill ran down Krystal’s spine as she felt a sense of dread wash over her.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Jasmine was killed over the weekend,” Tom said, his eyes locked on hers. “She was found in her apartment, murdered.”

“What?!” Krystal gasped, her knees weak. “Murdered?”

“Yeah,” Tom nodded, his eyes filled with sadness. “It was Evan, the police have already arrested him.”

“But he worked here! How could he do that? He seemed so ... normal.” Krystal’s heart was racing, her mind struggling to comprehend what she was hearing.

“I know,” Tom sighed. “He was a good guy, or so we thought. Turns out he never actually worked in accounting, or at this office at all. He just snuck in and pretended to work here to lure in women. He used his charm to convince women to invite him back to their place, then he’d kill them. Apparently he had been doing it for years, killing girls from all over the country.”

“What do you mean never worked here? Did anyone else know?”

“Most of us thought he was just some guy who worked in accounting, a little too flirtatious but harmless. No one ever suspected ... this.” Tom’s voice trailed off.

Krystal’s stomach was twisting in knots as the reality of the situation set in. Jasmine was dead, killed by the man she was obsessed with, the man she was dating. A wave of emotions washed over her: anger, grief, confusion, all fighting for dominance.

“How could he get away with it for so long?” Krystal whispered, her voice shaking. “What if I had ... I could have...”

The thought toyed with her mind for a brief moment. If she had let Evan escort her for lunch that one day, would she have been another victim? Krystal would have died, but it wouldn’t have been the way she wanted to. And she knew it wasn’t the way Jasmine wanted to go either.

“You didn’t know, Krystal. None of us did. He was good at pretending. You were just being friendly, like you always are. It’s not your fault.” Tom said, almost flirting with her.

Tom’s words blended together as the shock set in, her mind replaying the last few moments she had shared with Jasmine. How her friend’s bright smile and cheerful voice had filled the office, her infectious energy lifting everyone’s mood. The memory was now tainted by the knowledge that her friend had been killed, her life taken by a monster posing as a man.

“It’s not your fault,” Tom repeated, almost pleading. She could hear the sadness in his voice and saw the regret on his face.

“Maybe ... but I...,” Krystal whispered,

Tom moved closer, and before Krystal could react, his arms were around her, his hand resting on her back, the warmth of his touch breaking through the shock.

“Shhh,” he said, his voice soothing. “It’s not your fault. None of us knew.”

She slowly reached her arms around him and hugged him back, her head resting on his chest. The feeling of his body pressed against hers, the smell of his cologne, and the sound of his heart beating were a strange comfort in the sea of pain and sorrow.

They stood there for a moment, neither one wanting to let go, the realization of Jasmine’s death was like an anchor, holding Krystal in place. She knew that when she stepped out of Tom’s arms, the grief and guilt would be waiting for her, ready to consume her.

“I’m sorry, Krystal,” Tom said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll all miss her. I’m here for you.”

“I know,” she said, her voice shaky. “But I need to go. I can’t be here right now.”

“Hey, Krystal,” He started, not letting go yet. “You shouldn’t be alone right now. How about you come over to my place? We can talk, or just hang out. Whatever you want.”

Krystal lifted her head from his chest, her eyes locking on his. The familiar flicker of desire was in his eyes, but his expression was filled with concern. Krystal felt the urge to accept his offer, to lose herself in his touch and forget about the world around her. She had always known pain, but this was a kind she wasn’t prepared for, a loss she didn’t expect. She had a hole in her heart that needed filling and in a moment of weakness...

“Krystal, your body is so small, like a little girl. Your tits are barely big enough to be considered A-cups, and your pussy is so fucking tight. I feel like I’m fucking a child.”

Krystal felt a wave of unease wash over her, but she pushed it aside as she continued to move, her body bouncing up and down on the cock that was filling a hole in her body, just not the one in her heart. She tried to keep her focus, telling herself she was just doing her job, but Tom’s words made her uneasy.

“Your tiny tits are so cute,” Tom groaned, reaching up to cup her small breasts.

His hands felt rough against her sensitive skin, but the feeling of him touching her was a welcome distraction from her thoughts. She looked down at him, watching his face as he fucked her, the expression of pleasure mixed with an odd look of excitement.

“You like being called a little girl?” Tom asked, with a chuckle.

“Just doing my job,” she muttered, her body bouncing, her nipples barely moving as she worked.

Tom leaned back, resting his hands behind his head, his eyes taking in the sight of her small breasts bouncing as she rode his cock. He was enjoying the view, the sight of her lithe body, her pale skin, the flatness of her stomach, and her small breasts. Although 21, she did have the features of a little girl, and he was loving every second of it.

Krystal kept her pace steady, her mind drifting somewhere far from the bed, yet never leaving. The repetitive motion dulled her thoughts, giving her a temporary escape from the crushing weight of Jasmine’s death. Every bounce, every thrust, was mechanical. A mindless rhythm that helped her stay disconnected from the thought of her friend.

Tom’s grunts filled the room, his face twisted in pleasure as his cock disappeared inside her. His enjoyment was obvious, and for him, that was all that mattered. She could tell he was loving every second, not just in her body but how she was small, petite, fragile, and the way her breasts barely shifted as she rode him. Krystal barely heard his disgusting comments anymore. They were just noise, floating past her like background static. She didn’t care about his fantasies, as long as it kept her distracted for a little longer.

She stared blankly at the wall behind him, letting her mind wander as her body continued to move on autopilot. But a thought about Jasmine slipped through. The way she used to laugh, her smile bright and warm, so full of life. And now, just gone. Snuffed out like a candle.