Reese Knightley MM Author

Just a little something I wrote for a new writers group I joined. lol

Serial Killer Love Story – A Horror short story

© Reese Knightley 2017

Our whole life together had been a lie from the first fantastic moment to the most terrifying.

From the instant, he’d slid into the cabbie, he had annihilated me.

It wasn’t any one thing that drew me to him, but rather a compilation of little things weaved altogether.

The tip of his dark head when he smiled, the silky, rich tenor of his voice when it caressed my skin, the heat that filled his eyes with possessiveness and then later with anger.

It didn’t occur to me then that he completely hid a darker more sinister side of himself until I found myself cut off from the outside world. Alone, family at a distance, friends no longer calling, going out to parties a thing of the past.

We danced with death, and the stench of decay became poured into our very foundation, and I succumbed to his wishes, to his desire for me to be everything he was and more.

When they came for him, and trust me, they always come; he fought with a rage only victims and I had ever witnessed.

They cornered him, and he stabbed me. Out of all, he could have done, he cut me.

My world spun, and his face became a curious mixture of glee and torment.

They shot him then, and pain fractured my soul, my screams spewed with rage as they ended his life as if he’d never lived. But, I knew he’d lived, I had the marks to prove it. We both had scars.

Within my foggy universe in a world void of rules, remorse endured as my only companion, guilt an old familiar friend. 

The lights whirled overhead.

“You’re going to be okay, hang on,” A gentle voice said.

 I wanted to tell them I would never be okay. The room faded in and out, a slow rocking teeter-totter, and I felt, for the first time in years, hope. Hope that I could escape the horror of my life by the very hand that had dealt me the deck.

The beeps became one long drawn sigh in the darkness.

“Paddles! We’re losing him! Charge again…”

I’d like to say that there is happiness at the end of my life, but I cannot. Which should have been terrifying. Yet the thrill I felt when the darkness engulfed me couldn’t be denied.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said in that silky, rich voice that I loved so dearly.