Page 1 of Aperture

Prologue

Her head lulls from side to side as she mumbles unintelligibly. Sweat glistens from her temples down to the nape of her neck and in between her cleavage. I have never seen anything so beautiful.

She is just starting to wake up.

This is the part I have been waiting for.

Soon she will realize she is strapped to a table, and I am in complete control. I roll up my sleeves and sit in the chair next to her. Fire burns in my veins, somehow hot and icy simultaneously.

She tries to focus on me, the blow to her head making her weary. Slowly, she regains consciousness. I can see the second her mind registers that it is me. She looks confused, not comprehending how she got here. Her pupils dilate and her breathing hastens. She opens her mouth to scream, but no noise comes out.

“Ssh, Beautiful, Loathsome Girl,” I whisper with my lips against her damp temple. “This is not your fault. Nothing you could have done would have saved you.”

She begins to struggle against her restraints. Tears are streaming down her face, her cheeks and neck blossoming with red mottling. I watch her pulse, transfixed, as it hammers in her neck. Its beat is the most beautiful song I have ever heard.

“You tried to run from me and you should not have done that,” I tisk. “You woke up something that has been hiding inside of me my entire life.” I pause and stare into her panicked eyes as I admit to her what I have always known. “I cannot ignore it anymore.”

She shuts her eyes hard, forcing the tears to spill out over her cheeks. I swipe my thumb across her cheek, catching one. I lift it to my lips and savor the saltiness on my tongue. I have never felt more powerful, more alive. The feeling is soothing to my tortured soul. It is an anesthetic to my constant torture, hypnotizing and addicting. I could not stop now, even if I wanted to.

I lean down and place a kiss to the center of her forehead. I do not want to be gentle but I am forced to hold back. I am fighting everything in my nature, but this has to be done a certain way. Unfortunately, this is not how I have always imagined it, but it will do for now. The overall game is more important than this one kill. I understand the sacrifices I must make.

“No, no, no, no, no,” she says over and over. “I won’t tell anyone. I’ll do anything,” she pleads, her snot and panic creating a briny appetizer making me euphoric.

“I see we’ve passed the acceptance stage and moved on to bargaining,” I say passively, hiding my delight.

I listen to her beg for her life. She apologizes for rejecting me and promises she will never do it again. I cannot help but laugh. It is impossible for another human being to elicit compassion in me.

We were destined to tumble into this abyss, bound to one another from the beginning. I have never believed in fate. I know that a man chooses his future, but the events of this evening have me re-examining my thought process.

She starts to scream, and it slams me back into the moment. I can hear the blood rushing through my ears. The way she smells, looks, and sounds, I commit to memory.

Then, I wrap the red scarf around her neck.

Chapter 1

I stare at my phone calling to me from the bedside table. I always text my best friend, Gwen, after dates. It’s a policy we have so that we know no one has been kidnapped or killed by a crazy person. It’s a good system, considering most of my dating life consists of going out with men I’ve met online. As a photographer, I don’t meet people at work.

Well, that’s not exactly true.

I meet lovely newly engaged couples, pregnant couples, high school kids doing their senior portraits, and newborns placed in pumpkins and assorted wicker baskets. I haven’t been lucky enough to book a photo shoot for hot, single firefighters holding puppies. I’m still holding out hope for that one.

My phone beeps again. I have to get this over with. Sighing, I pick up my phone and read the messages.

Gwen: How was the date?

Gwen: Wow! Not home yet? Good for you!

Gwen: OK, seriously, are you alive? It’s not like you to forget to update me. I’m getting worried.

Gwen: You better be dead at this point.

I take a deep breath and start a conversation I never thought I’d be having. Ever.

Millie: I’m never dating again. I’m done. Seriously. I’m going to die alone with fourteen cats.

Gwen: I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. You made it home in one piece.

Gwen: Thanks for telling me, by the way.