Chapter 23

Tonight.

He giggled as he put together his kit. This was a special day, a special night. Everything had to be perfect for them. He carefully chose a knife from the array spread on the table in front of him. He checked the edge for sharpness and giggled when it bit into his finger deep enough to draw blood.

He stared at the drop of blood, lost in the glossy deep red of it. It was so pretty in the light, much prettier than at night. Then it was too black and deep. Like deep wells that were waiting to suck him in or like the shadows that used to chase him in the attic. He stuck the finger in his mouth and sucked on his own blood. Then he put the knife in the bag.

He'd spent the day running their errands. He'd answered phones, heard so many crackpots who thought that they knew him, knew his Purpose. He'd heard the stories, the ones who thought he was an alien, who thought he was their neighbor, one lady had even said he was a transvestite that came up from Detroit on the weekends.

What they didn't realize, had no idea, he was so much more than all of that, than all of them. He had hoped they would understand, but it didn't matter anymore. He had new plans and she was going to help him fulfill them.

He had watched her today, watched her run around with the high and mighty detective. She had been so pretty, her hair shining in the bright sun. She sparkled, glowed. He wanted that. So he had watched and planned. He thought if he could think about her hard enough, she would see him and she would know. But she hadn't noticed him, hadn't heard his silent calls. That would change. He would become all to her. He would be more than any other man had been. He would be lover and killer, benefactor and enemy. He would hold her life in his hand and gently show her how absolutely beautiful death could be.

It was his Purpose. She was his. She just didn't know it yet. He had watched them last night, stood outside the bedroom window and watched as he defiled her. He would pay for that later. But she came first. She had to be made to see that what he did, what he was, was so much more important than what she was doing now. When she saw, when she came to love him, she could share in his purpose. She could join him in his studies. It would be perfect.

He checked the ropes he had rigged specifically for her. He checked the bindings that he had padded with soft material so they wouldn't hurt her. It had to be perfect. They would have tonight and every night after. He glanced over at the other, the one tied to the table. Maybe after she saw what he did, she would want to help. The idea excited him, made him lust. He walked over to the other and slapped her lightly on the cheek.

She didn't wake up, which was for the best. She had to wait until his Michelle was here. Then maybe Michelle would want to join in, maybe she would understand right away. His erection strained against his pants, tenting them. He walked to the end of the table and took the girl's limp hand, wrapping it around his hard cock, stroking himself with it. His hips jerked as his breath grew shorter. He reached down and unzipped his pants, putting her hand inside his underwear.

And he dreamed of what would be when Michelle was his. He dreamed of fucking her while the girl on the table watched. He dreamed of being inside of her, of feeling her heat while she cried out her pleasure in what he did. She would be golden and beautiful, something rare and delicate. Someone he could treasure, as he fucked her slowly and carefully. His breathing was hard, too fast. His chest was going to explode with need.

He cried out Michelle's name when he came, shooting hot jets of sperm over the girl's hair and into her face. It was good.

She would see what was important. She would see, he thought and pushed the girl's hand away. He zipped his pants, patted the girl on the face. She would see.

And then, they would have AFTER.

He made his phone call.