A Serial Killers Guide: Dexter's Final Cut, Dexter, Darkly Dreaming Dexter, Dearly Devoted Dexter, Dexter in the Dark, Dexter By Design, Dexter Is Delicious, Double Dexter Tribute - Episode 1 (5 page)

“You cheated on me, you kissed that guy! I have never treated you badly and yet you go and kiss that guy!” He spat in my face as he punched my eyes, I sobbed openly.

“Whore! Bitch! Apologize
to me!” He yelled at me as he threw me to the ground. I lay, beaten, defeated and battered on the cold floor. I whipped the tears away as new ones replaced the old ones. Blood dripped from my nose.

“I did not mean to hurt you
James.” I spoke to him, not looking at him, I did not want him to see the pleasure I held in my eyes. He was falling beautifully into my plan, into my play. Though he then did something I did not expect him to do. I heard him open a drawer and approach me; he then hit me over the head with a rolling pin. I fell to the ground, I was not unconscious but I was unable to do much. I moaned as this pain, this blow, and this defeat hit home. I knew then that I could not misjudge him again, that I would have to act fast once I was able to. Fuck, I did not want to die; he was the one I was going to fucking kill, not the other way around. Little fucking bastard! He picked me up and carried me into the living room where he tossed me onto the couch.

“You want to fuck, you want to have sex! Well here you go honey. We will fuck, and we will have sex. I will be the only one to fuck you over, the only man to penetrate your body.”
James said as he took his shirt off and approached me. I was still unable to move, the blow had taken a lot out of me. Fucking asshole, he was going to rape me! Little penis twizzle! I had to move, I had to get my ass going, I needed to kill him. He touched my face as he pulled my hair back and ran his fingers down my body to the button on my jeans. He unbuttoned my jeans and yanked them down off my hips.

“You want to be a
whore; I’ll make you a whore.” He leaned then lay on top of me. I took a deep breath and centered myself; I could feel my senses coming back to me now. James unsheathed his weapon as he pulled my panties down and placed his lips on mine, he forced his tongue into my mouth. There, I was back, I was thinking straight again and I could feel everything he was doing and everything I was about to do to him. I opened my eyes as I slowly let his tongue into my mouth. Once his tongue was in the right spot I brought my strong, white, pearly fangs down into his fleshy tongue. I tore his fucking tongue off, his warm blood flooded my mouth as he yelled and rolled off of me. I spat his tongue out, pulled my pants back up and stood over him.

“I’m sorry
James, but you were about to spoil my plans for the night.” I told him as I put my hair back and fixed myself.

“You se
e, Amanda told me you raped her, I cannot have that. She is my friend and well I guess now is a good time to tell you this. I am a serial killer and you are going to be my virgin human kill.” I told him as I centered him on the living room rug, tied his arms and legs to furniture. Once he was tied down, I went in search of towels and a few knives and returned to the living room. I sniffed the air as the blood that had started to drip from my nose stopped. James looked so terrified; this was a truthful horror and pure panic in his face. I knelt down next to him.

 
“Don’t get me wrong, I had a great 2 years with you. You really did treat me right, but you raped my friend and well I need to kill you. So you got the short string and now you are going to die.” I told him with my deadly gaze. I walked down and grabbed a small carving knife from the collection I had gathered. I looked at it in my hands and looked back at James, he was petrified. I went up to him and looked at his crotch. The fire place behind me cracked and popped as the wood inside of it burned bright and red.

“You don’t deserve those.” I told him as I cut off his pants and made my way down to his naked skin, exposing his
delicates. He yelled and shouted and shook his head and wiggled in his constraints. I looked at him confused and bewildered by his reaction.

“What? You don’t, plus the more you move the worse it will be.” I told him as I slowly brought the cold metal down on his sensitive area. The metal rested on his skin as I looked at him, he looked at me; pleading in his eyes. I smiled my evi
l devil smile as I applied gentle steady pressure to the knife, cutting into his groin. Oh how he shouted, yelled, cried, and wailed in pain as I carved away at his extremities. I had placed a large butcher knife in the fire behind me; I wanted to stop him from bleeding out on me. I took the large butcher knife from the fire’s embers and slowly moved it so that it was in front of my face. James looked at the knife, it glowed in the dim light of the living room. I smiled as I brought the hot knife down upon James’s red, bloody flesh. The hot metal hissed as it touched the warm blood and the exposed flesh of James. James howled out in pain as the smell of burning flesh now filled the air and I watched James wiggle in his constraints. Once the wound I had opened on James’s body was sealed shut and there was no more blood flowing from him, At long last I placed his reproductive agents next to his head, where he could clearly see them.

“If you want I would bag them for you, so you can save them for later. Though t
hey should be placed in the fridge right away.” I asked him so kindly, his face was covered in tears and snot as he cried and shivered in his own pain.

“Then again you really won’t be ne
eding them after tonight, since… you know, you’ll be dead.” I told him as I looked about the knives I had picked out. I looked at him.

“How many have you raped?” I asked him, I wanted to know. I needed to know. He could barely look at me, he was in so much pain that the tears he shed filled his eyes.

“I am guessing a few.” I answered for him.

“O
nward we go.” I told him. I put the bloody carving knife down and picked up a steak knife, this one was robust. It had ridged edges to it and it was the meanest looking steak knife I had ever seen. I sat and pondered for a minute.

“Well I already took your tongue and I now have your balls…what else should I take from you?” I paused, looking at him. “Well
, besides your life.” I paused again. I scooted across the floor up next to him, touching his naked torso. Our eyes met, I could see death in his eyes and on his face. I was shocked and surprised; this was when he looked his best. When he was on death’s door, he looked amazing.

“My dear, death looks good on you.” I told him as I lowered the knife and slowly leaned over him. The blood in his mouth oozed out from behind his lips and teeth. I closed my eyes as my lips slowly descended onto his lips. They were cool now and they trembled with fear and death as his life seeped out of him. I sucked on his lips, drank the blood in his mouth and touched his cold face. I was completely turned on at the moment; I moaned and pressed myself against him as
I raised my knife up into the air. I put passion into our last kiss as I reached that moment, the moment when I was going to kill him; my first human kill.

“I want your heart!” I declared to him as I brought the steak knife down into his exposed belly. He bellowed in agonizing pain as I forced the knife into his belly, deeper and deeper I pushed it, up towards his sternum I went, carving my way to his heart. Blood was pumped out of his body onto the living room floor. I knew he did not have much time left in this world, he was dying quickly. I threw the knife across the
floor; I was still kissing him, my lips fixated on his. I shoved my naked hand into his hot abdomen, his intestines and organs floating around in the fluid. His shouts were becoming quieter and softer now. I thrust my hand up into his diaphragm, now he only had seconds as his lungs would now collapse from the negative pressure. I had studied anatomy and knew my way around the human body well. There, I felt it still beating from within his warm chest, my tiny hand wrapped itself around his heart as I ripped it from his chest. He gasped, eyes wide open, mouth gawked and the life that once filled that useless body now gone. I sat, triumphantly, in the living room with his heart high above my head. I sat in the pool of entrails, blood, feces and death. Blood covered my mouth and face, it dripped down my neck as did the blood from his dead heart; it covered my arm. Though suddenly I was consumed with an over powering exhaustion as I fell to the floor and passed out.

The exhaustion that struck me was so strong that I do not remember being transported back to the CIA headquarters. In fact the next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital bed, chained to the bars and white, so much white. The walls, the
floor and the fucking ceiling here all so freaking white. I shouted and screamed, where the fuck was I?

“Hello! Anybody there?” I asked loudly as I raised my head up. The
re was a long window along the side of one of the walls. I narrowed my eyes, I had seen this on TV before, and there were people behind the window.

“I know you are there, I know you are watching me from behind the window.” I shouted at them.
I continued to struggle with my restraints until I heard a door unlock and open. Across the room from me was a silver door knob that turned and swung open the door. A tall man wearing a dark blue suit and tie came into the room. He pulled up a stool that was placed off to the side of the hospital bed I was in. He sat on the stool and looked at me. He had brown eyes, curly brown hair and a somewhat masculine face. He just sat there staring at me and I at him. He crossed his arms and legs as he sat back in the chair, eyes fixed on mine. He felt cold, and I know cold; I am cold and he was. The man’s suit was finely pressed with not a wrinkle; his tie was just as neat. His hair looked as it had been blown dry and his face was judgmental. We stared at each other; he cleared his throat as he shifted his position and picked up a manila folder from under the seat he was sitting on. He flipped it open, still watching me for a moment. His eyes slowly shifted to the folder he held in his hands. He turned pages over as he carefully and meticulously scanned the words on each page. He cleared his throat again, but said nothing as he continued to read the pages. I was getting agitated as he read, he knew he was agitating me, and I did not want him to win. So I closed my eyes and put my head back down on the pillow. I centered my mind as I listened to his fingers on the white pages, his reading, his steady breathing, his coughing and the way he moved in the chair.

I was not sure how long we played this waiting game before he closed the folder and placed it on the bed. Still my eyes were closed and I did not move, I wanted him to be the first to speak, to say the first word between us. I could now feel his frustration with the situation as well, the hot heat emanating from his cool body as he sat there in that chair. His finely pressed blue suit and tie, his pampered hair and his tight face. I bet he hadn’t been laid in months by the way he sat and acted. He looked stressed and angry, a smile crept onto my face as I could sense his standing now; he paced back and forth for quite some time. I heard a sli
ght tap on the window glass, the man stopped, sighed and turned to face me on the bed. He walked slowly back to the chair, sat with a definite defeating thud and crossed his legs once again. He picked up the folder, opened it and cleared his throat. This time he spoke to me.

“Do you know why you are here?” he asked me, I smiled as I slowly opened my eyes; I won! I thought the question over as if I were seriously considering that I might in fact know why I was her
e, when in actuality I did not. I turned to look at him. I knew that I must be in the hands of either the FBI or the CIA, or some other government body.

“Well sir, seeing as I passed out on my living room floor in a pool of a man’s blood, entrails and whatever else I may have carved out of him before he died. No, I have no fucking idea why or where I am! Idiot!” I shouted at him. He sat there, quiet, still and unaffected by this. I thought.

“Let’s try this again.” He shifted in his chair. I rolled my eyes at him and sighed.

“Fine, if we must. You go first, no please I insist.” I told him.

“Do you know why you are here?” He asked that same damn fucking ass stupid retarded fucking question again.

“No, I do not know why I am here. Though I am going to take a shot in the dark and guess it has something to do with the man I killed.” I replied in a very polite and innocent voice.

“Mocking me will not help you.” He told me.

“Really? Really? The mocking is needed, after an ass quest
ion like that, it is most definitely needed.” I told him. He looked at the file in his hands and turned it so I could see it. There was a picture of James there.

“Do you know who this man is?” He asked me, again with the ass questions.

“Yes, I dated him, fucked him and killed him.” I told the man, he looked at me from behind those cold eyes of his.

“How long did you date
James?” He asked me.

“Almost two years. Why?” I asked him now. He turned the folder around and turned the page.

“We wanted to know how it is you knew him.” The man replied. I thought for a minute.

“Am
anda, she lives out by the railroad. Is she alright? James was the last one to see her and well…is she alive?” I asked the man, he looked at me. 

“Amanda…yes. We went and asked her a few questions this morning, she is fine.” He spoke to me. My eyes wide open I turned to face him.

“Oh thank god she is fine.” I sighed a heavy sigh. The man looked confused.

“A serial killer is concerned with the wellbeing of someone else. That is a first for me.” He told me as he wrote something down in a small paper note book he had pulled from his pocket.