Page 1 of Unhinged Kallie

Chapter One

CAIN

“You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?”

Travis was still trying to fight through the reality that he had a knife piercing the back of his throat.

His eyes were wide with shock as his brain tried to rationalize that he was going to die. “You really are quite a bore, Travis, and here I thought you were a complicated, unique character.” I stood up straight and sighed. “You’re actually a depressing husk of useless blubbering flesh with a little worm for a dick. Uninspiring.”

A gurgle bubbled up from his chest, and blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. I felt the anger at the insult shift the energy in the room despite him being unable to move. There he was, the rapist who hid under the sweet, sexy exterior he portrayed to the world. It was the smile that had gotten him off of all charges multiple times. It was also the smile that wooed his victims as effectively as a South American jungle cat mimicking the cries of a baby monkey to lure in its victims. He had a classic sexy look that women swooned over, add in the charismatic charm and millions in his bank account and he was downright irresistible. At least he was until he flipped the switch and became, The East Side Rapist.

“You know what I think would look nice on you? A picture carved into your cheek. You have the perfect muscular jaw for it, and I don’t normally take the time when I’m this busy, so you should be flattered.” His blue eyes found mine. “I see the darkness in you. You know the thing trying to get out? The thing that is right now fantasizing about killing me with the same knife lodged in the back of your throat.”

Picking up my favorite tool, I leaned over Travis again. His eyes had dulled a little more, and his will to fight was leaving as steadily as the blood draining from the small cuts. It was highly disappointing that Travis didn’t have any last confessions. The delicious tales of other’s kills had become just as enticing and soothing to my soul as my colorful eye collection.

All kills fell into one of three categories. The first were those that screamed, cried, and begged in epic proportions that any pastor would yell ‘Amen’ over. They promised ridiculous things, from their wealth to sexual favors, just for the chance at living one more day. They did stay true to their selfish natures and were the first to turn on someone else in their final moments. At the end of the day, I enjoyed their screams, but they were useless sacs of air, and society was better off without them.

The second were those that felt they needed to repent their sins. I smiled as they tried to cleanse their souls of the evil they had done by praying to a mythical place called heaven with an invisible, mystical force. The assholes, cheaters, thieves, and frauds of the world used going to church as their Get Out of Jail Free card. They were the neighbor that smiled to your face but talked shit about you behind your back. I loved to call this group my version of Karens of the world. They always used their final gasp of breath to share their deepest truths. They were the biggest fools of the three, and I chuckled, watching them squirm under my blade.

The third and final category wore a similar mask to mine. They were the ones that stalked their prey, tasted blood, and understood the meaning of true power. The ones that relished in the things they did. This group enjoyed the depraved parts of their personality, and when pressured, they spilled their sins. Unlike group two, they only shared to gloat. A final callout to the world about how great they were at what they did. The masks they wore to cover who they truly were would lift, and you got a glimpse of the horror that lived underneath just before they died.

This final group was my favorite. They were a challenge, and I had changed my tactics to hunt the hunters. So far, I was still at the top of the fucking food chain.

I documented every little detail and kept it in a journal that had become incredibly helpful to Kirby in solving missing-person cases. What an entirely strange turn of events that led me to this moment, yet there wasn’t anything I’d change. Kirby was mine the moment I saw her, and she molded into the perfect partner, the perfect balance I’d been craving. If anyone ever hurt her, hell itself would open to drag them down. There was nothing and no one in this world that would stop me from slitting their throat and dancing in their blood. No one hurt what was mine.

I put the final touches on Travis’s cheek, confident it was one of the best I’d ever done. I had chosen the All-Seeing Eye, and it was magnificent.

“Have you changed your mind about your final words? Maybe a confession or two? I mean, you must have raped more than twelve girls. That’s child’s play.” His eyes found mine, and he managed to glare, showing the true Travis. He was definitely in group three but wanted to keep his secrets. Very interesting. Sometimes you had to concede that there may not be any more names to give.

“I guess some predators are better than others.” I smiled at him, stepping back to see the carving from a distance.

“Stunning.”

Cleaning off the blade, I laid it down and picked up my camera to photograph the masterpiece. Travis’s body twitched, and he pulled against the restraints.

“Oh, did you want to see?”

I held up the camera for him to see the artwork on the side of his face that just so happened to show the massive knife handle sticking out of his mouth. In the quiet room, I could just make out the distinct sound of his heart thumping faster.

“Don’t hold back, Travis. Tell me what you think.”

“Yuk u. U iko.”

“Such a foul mouth you have, Travis. Maybe I’ll keep your tongue as well as your eyes.”

I took my time cleaning the rest of my tools and glanced over my shoulder at the still-breathing Travis. He was really starting to annoy me now.

“Are you going to die soon, Travis? I have a schedule to keep, and at the moment, you’re threatening my evening plans.”

“Yuk u,” Travis gurgled and then choked on the blood pooling in the back of his throat.

“Fine, I’ll concede you’re right. This is my fault.” Turning around, I watched the blood slowly drain out of Travis leaving long rivers of red in the collector drains. I wanted to play with him a little longer, but I still needed to cook dinner for Kirby. There was a pot roast in the oven, and I planned on making fingerling potatoes, baby carrots, crunchy kale salad, and of course, my signature gravy.

Leaning over Travis, I could tell he didn’t have long. “Travis, do me a favor. If there is actually a hell, which I doubt but if there is, save me a seat.” Grabbing the knife, I pushed the handle through his neck so it pierced his spinal cord. The tip hit the metal table with a ting, and with a quick twist of my wrist, the cord snapped, along with the light in his eyes.

Travis convulsed once but then went perfectly still. It was a very pleasant way to die. He couldn’t complain. I’d done far worse to others. I didn’t even cut off body parts other than his cock, but that was nothing. Literally. Damn it, I should’ve made him choke on his cock. Now that would’ve been entertaining. I wrote the idea down and slipped the knife from Travis’s mouth.

The door to my work area opened, and Kirby walked in like a summer breeze. Her fresh scent filled my nose, and her smile brightened any room.