Warning: gore ahead.
“These bloodstains will never come out,” I mutter to my ruined reflection in the mirror.
Splatters of coppery red are splashed down my tasteful white dress, as if someone has thrown a bucket of red paint over my front and down my arms. I could easily get away with the red paint lie, if not for the smell.
I touch one spatter in particular congealing below my collarbone. I touch it, shiver, and remember earlier in the evening…
“You’re here.” His eyes widened in pleasant surprise. He smiled and held the door open for me. What a gentleman. I stepped inside, surveying the large room. Candlelight flickered from the beautifully set table, lights of the surrounding skyscrapers washing the place in a cool glow from beyond the floor to ceiling windows.
Two steaks rested on a cutting board on the marble island in the kitchen a few steps away. I caressed the handle of the knife by the sink, thinking of the one hidden in the pocket of my dress.
“And you dressed up,” he murmured appreciatively, placing his hands on my waist from behind. I allowed myself to melt into him, one last time, letting him pepper kisses down the side of my neck. I breathed in his cologne and wished he wasn’t such a terrible fucking person.
He pulled out a chair for me but I shook my head and picked up the wine bottle. “You go ahead and sit. I’ll pour the wine.” He obeyed and spread his napkin on his lap, just like he’d done his whole life, living like royalty, his family name shielding him from reality.
I poured myself a glass of delicious pinot noir first, keeping my hands steady. He flashed me a smile as I moved toward him and filled his own glass, placing the bottle well out of reach.
I stood behind him and put my hands on his shoulders, kneading gently. “Had a rough day today, baby?” I whispered next to his ear. His head fell back, enjoying my ministrations. I kept kneading his aching muscles, waiting for my conscience to scream at me, or at least to whimper.
“Don’t stop now,” he whined, head still back, eyes closed. “I could get used to –”
Lightning-fast I had the silver dagger in my left hand, holding his dark locks tightly with my right. Before he could say or do anything I slashed the blade across his bared neck, sawing a bit to get right down to the bone.
The feeling was exhilarating; my heart felt like it would beat out of my chest. I smiled in relief while he gagged and choked on his own blood.
I put the still bloody dagger back in my front pocket, letting go of his head.
It was barely still attached.
The bloodbath was glorious. I couldn’t help myself from dipping my finger in the dark black blood pumping down his chest and licking it, tasting him one last time.
Hugging him daintily I happily smeared his blood on myself. I took a look at myself in the ornate mirror close to the door before stepping out, leaving the heavy door ajar.
To the fire exit door at the end of the empty hallway I went, using my least bloody finger to touch the password onto the keypad. At the green light I pushed outward into the night and up the flight of stairs to the roof.
The helicopter was waiting, ready to lift away at my go-ahead. The pilot did a double-take when he saw me but is paid well enough to never ask any questions.
Smiling, I told him, “Happy Halloween, Trev. Think there’s still time for trick-or-treating?”