She twisted the knife, as the side of the steel scraped against a vertebrae leaving a small shaving of bone on the blade.

“You won’t be doing that again you fucking pig.”

His limp body lay in crimson puddles on the lino, gasping for air and twitching occasionally. She slowly raised a stiletto and knowingly stamped it down a hairs width away from his face. She reached over awkwardly to the draining board, picked up a glass and filled it with water.

Her pink lips touched the side of the glass as she took a sip before throwing the rest of the water onto her victim.

“Stand up you fuck, ain’t such a man now are you.”

He frantically spat blood from his mouth trying to speak.

“P-please, I apologised, please.”

She paced around the kitchen savouring the shift in power. The thump of her heels against the lino was slow and purposeful.

“Life is full of ironies ain’t it.”

She quickly drew for the Glock 9mm tucked down the back of her jeans, releasing a shot into the roof to startle the man and fuck with his mind a little more. It was his personal favourite and sadistically chosen. As the familiar crack of bullet leaving barrel reverberated around the kitchen, the body on the floor flinched violently.

“W-what, please, please.”

She pulled a chair from the kitchen table, pulled it close to the man and sat down. She began to explain in her southern drawl.

“You see honey, everyone wants to play by their own rules, do what they want, not thinking about the consequences to others. But as soon as they are implicated in somebody else’s wild games – the tables turn, they don’t like it so much.”

The statement beat the man harder than any bat or knife that had been used so far. He had expected retribution, but not like this.

“J-just one cigarette baby, please, the pain, i-it’s the pain.”

Her cherry red tipped fingers stroked around her pocket before expertly pulling out a packet of Marlboro red cigarettes and lighter with the same hand. She placed the cigarette in her mouth lit it up and gulped the smoke down her long, pale neck. She held it between her thumb and index finger aiming for the man’s mouth before, at the last minute, moving it down below his ear and stubbing it out on the thin skin of his neck.

He yelped in agony.

“What you did can’t be forgiven.”

She stood up and strolled over to the door, closing it gently.

“Shall we begin then sugar?”


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