All of Her Men (2 page)

I
did a mental run through of the tools in the sealed compartment beneath my trunk. I couldn’t be absolutely sure that I would need them tonight but I felt better knowing they were there. They were just basic necessities really. I carried a spare change of underwear and clothes along with some makeup and baby wipes and a pair or scissors, a can of mace, a meat cleaver and an assortment of knives and such. I never left home without them. After all, I never knew what I would need on any given night. Everyday was a surprise.
For a moment, I felt the all too-familiar feeling of remorse slowly creep over me. Almost, but not quite. I pondered the idea of abandoning this particular project. There would be numerous other people on the beach tonight. The slightest mis-step and any number of people could potentially lead to a slew of questions and numerous regrettable actions on my part. But that was a risk I had never failed to take before and I wouldn’t start now.
I refused to allow those misguided feelings to thwart what I came here for. I forced myself to dismiss those sympathetic thoughts. This was what I wanted. Too much time had passed since the last time. My hunger was consuming my every waking moment. I started and ended my days with the same mind-numbing exasperation. Waiting too long proved to be increasingly difficult. This could not be avoided. No. I most certainly was not changing my mind.
Would any of Paul’s friends really notice him missing while he was with me? Surely, they would be too busy having their own fun tonight. Yet, someone was bound to miss this poor sap. But I could scarcely think of that right now. I’d have to take my chances and hope no one noticed him or me.
I waited in the car for Paul to finish parking and walk over to my Jeep. He walked so painfully slow. I couldn't help but to think of the biblical quote, "and as we walk through the valley in the shadow of death..." Over the top, yes, but then again I did always have a flair for the dramatic. I continued on with the verse in my head until he came right up to my driver's seat window.
"Hey, my buds are already down on the beach. They're about to start the bonfire. How bout we head on down there and check it out?" Paul couldn't wait to show his friends the new piece he picked up at the tavern. But my need for him was growing and my patience was waning. We weren't going to any bonfire tonight. It just wasn’t in the cards.
"I have a better plan," I said. I didn’t think it would be very difficult to set his mind on a vastly different track. He was just happy I came along. Besides, he would probably enjoy my alternate plan more so than his own.
"How bout we head on down under the piers on the other side of the beach. It's no more than a two minute walk," I smiled knowingly. But Paul looked disappointed once again. I guess he really wanted to hang out with his friends above all else.
I was going to have to sweeten the deal a bit more for his compliance. "I think," I paused suggestively dropping my head to the side, "that the two of us could have a lot more fun under those piers right now than at that bonfire. How bout you let me prove just how much fun we could have?" I rubbed his arm softly, openly displaying my intentions.
Flirtation was just another part of my repertoire that seldom failed me. I was almost bored of just how easily men were manipulated. When subtlety couldn't close the deal, there was nothing a heavy dose of my charm couldn't handle. Paul simply stood there staring back at me excitedly. "You want to check out the piers? Yeah, why not?" he said. "Your wish is my command."
Good boy.
I had a hard time stifling my laughter at his choice of words, but my face remained unchanged. My perfectly angelic smile would fool just about anyone. My wish would be his command. Yes, it certainly would.
Chapter 5
The excitement was just too much for me. Once I got over the fact that she really wasn't into meeting my friends I started to see the bigger picture. She wanted me and only me. If all this chick wanted to do was bang out on the beach, it was fine by me. Who was I to deny a beautiful girl the fantasy of sex on the beach?
We walked on the cool sand together with a few towels that I remembered to take out of the trunk. I let her pick a spot deep down into the pier. The spot she picked was further down into the pier than I had expected. But I sensed that maybe she just wanted a little extra privacy. I didn't mind.
"This spot's perfect, don't you think?" she asked. She began setting the towels down on the sand before I even had a chance to respond. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as we settled into the little section of the beach. But I wasn't really sure how to make conversation with her.
I barely knew this girl. We’d met less than hour ago and barely talked at the bar. This girl really didn't seem like she had any interest in getting to know me. It was like she was just trying to get in my pants. I wondered if this was what it felt like to be a girl. Was I being used? It kind of felt that way. It didn’t really matter though. I wasn’t going to let that stop me either way. I’d worry about the details later.
"So, have you ever been to this beach before?" It was my small attempt at a conversation starter. "Actually, no I don't think I ever have. I don't get out to the beach as often as I'd like," she said as she watched the waves hit the shore line. There wasn't much to look at this time of night. Blackness had taken over the sky, the water and even the sand. There was a light coming from somewhere far off that enabled us to see just a tiny glimmer.
I rummaged through my pockets when all of a sudden she hopped up and straddled my waist. Whoa! In one fell swoop she was on top of me kissing me so hard I could barely catch my breath.
My whole body felt like it was on fire. But really the heat was coming off of
her.
Her whole body was giving off some major heat. I was on sensory overload and I let my hands feel up and down her body from her arms down toward her hips and thighs and back up again. I grabbed a handful of her lightly scented hair and she let out a small cry. Good, she liked it. Some girls didn’t like it when you touched their hair. But I could feel how much she wanted me just like I wanted her, if not more. The passion intensified with each and every kiss. I gently tugged on her collared blouse and she reacted by ripping my shirt right open.
Chapter 6
The buttons of his shirt popped off and sprinkled onto the sand as I ripped open his shirt and began to pucker wet kisses across his sweaty chest. I could feel the warm blood as it rushed from my head all the way down to the very tips of my toes. My heart continued to viciously pump more and more blood through my body. I tried to contain myself and savor the seconds as they went by but I just couldn't wait any longer. It had been too long. Why had I waited so long?
It wasn't my intention to just jump him like I would a horse but patience, after all, was not a virtue bestowed upon me. I glimpsed at an opportunity and took it. Once his shirt was torn and I caught sight of his impeccably large chest, you could say I was all-in.
Kissing his delicious lips, I quickly tore off my own shirt and removed my pants. His hands would not, in fact, could not stop at any point of my body for his wanting to consume me entirely. I felt his need building for me, and so I quickly grabbed a condom from my bag.
I moved so swiftly that Paul had not seen me grab it. He only noticed it as began to place it on his girth. I enjoyed taking a quick moment to simply look at his manhood in all of its glory. It was even better than I could have hoped for. In one swift move, I slid on the condom to the base and slid myself onto him.
Holy shit.
The fire between us was so intense. I grabbed a chunk of his hair into my knuckles and pushed his face into mine. The initial, slow pace of sex had quickened into blood-rushing, mind-numbing hard-core fucking.
Finally. Finally
. Finally was all I could think. It was all I could feel. My moans grew heavier and louder. I threw my head back in ecstasy and pushed him toward the ground as my thrusting onto him grew fiercer with more intensity.
I held him down and basked in all the pleasure his body gave me. We both struggled to catch our breaths, as I continued to ride his body mercilessly in the dark. I knew it felt good for him but I didn’t care. All that mattered was that he fucked me the way I needed to be fucked.

He sensed my urgency and thrust up his ass to delve even deeper into me as I desperately rode him with only the swivel of my hips.
I felt my time was coming, and I slowed down a bit. I didn’t want to finish just yet. I leaned into him once more kissing him even harder than before.
His hands grabbed my waist roughly when I tried to slow down. His aggression forced me to quicken the pace as we continued to force our bodies into each other. Harder and harder still. Just as I felt like I was about to explode I wielded the knife I’d hidden next to the blanket and slit his throat just as my orgasm completely engulfed me and brought my existence to someplace far, far away.
His eyes opened in shock as his body fell back into the sand. It probably took an entire minute before all of his lights went out but that was the end of it for Paul. I stayed on him to watch as the blood gushed out of his throat and onto the sand. The incision was deep. Any deeper and I would have lopped off his whole head. Not really what I was going for.

There was a sudden
shift in the wind and when it hit his face and I smelled that coppery smell that I loved so much. It smelled so good. I disengaged from Paul’s body and took a moment to lay on the blanket next to Paul’s lifeless body as I attempted to slow my breathing and enjoy the after effects of a pulsating orgasm.
My body couldn't even completely digest the high of the moment. It was too much.
Exhilarated.
That was the only way in which I could describe my current state. It had been so long since the last time. This was what I needed. It was just too bad Paul had to die but it was the only way.
Oh well.
Paul's death was the culmination of my desire. Without it, my efforts would have gone to waste to simple sex that could never truly satisfy my need. That need, which called upon me every single day, but would remain dormant for days, weeks, months on end.

Truth be told,
Paul's untimely death was simply inconsequential to me. My sexual appetite was encompassed only by my inherent need to kill. Yet, they went hand in hand.
Only when performed together as a single act, could I finally awaken to feed and fill that darkness inside. There was no mistaking it; I was a natural-born killer. It took years for me to finally come to terms with who and what I was. And years further to accept that life would be one vicious circle of calming those cravings and succumbing to them.
In a moment, I would have some work to do. But for now… for a moment, I would relish the experience. I lived for the quiet moments. Those moments right after a kill when I could allow myself to simply be me.
I turned to look aside at Paul's limp, motionless body lying there beside me. I knew the remorse I should feel. It was there somewhere. And yet, a big, white, Cheshire cat smile emerged from my face. I did this, I thought. I killed him.......And I have never felt so alive!
-----
I dressed myself slowly. Luckily enough, I had brought an extra set of clothes. My shirt had been torn but it didn’t matter. It was evidence now. It would have to be discarded. I grabbed all of Paul's clothes and threw them in a plastic bag I had brought inside of my duffel.
I cleaned off the knife I had just used to slice my victim's throat and tucked it away. I then quickly grabbed the meat cleaver from my bag and started hacking away. Admittedly, this wasn't my favorite part of the kill. Though, I didn't hate it either.
Squeamish was not a word I would have used to describe myself. It wasn't for disgust or remorse. It was simply exhausting to cut up a body into small manageable pieces. They make it seem so damn easy in the movies. But you really had to put your back into it.
I took a glance at my phone. It was just past midnight. I would have to go to my car for the shovel. It would take another hour or so before I could dig a make-shift grave into the sand and hide Paul's body.
I covered the pieces that were once Paul's impeccable body with the blanket we had used as a bed only minutes earlier. I started walking the short distance to my car when I noticed the bonfire that Paul had mentioned earlier.

I ducked for cover, having momentarily forgotten that there were other people on the beach. But why was everything so quiet?
There didn't seem to be too much of a party going on. I decided to look on further and take a peak. The fire blazed on healthily but no one was there. Bottles were thrown across the sand and there was garbage littered everywhere but it seemed Paul's friends had decided to take the party elsewhere. They probably had a beach house or a motel room nearby. Judging by the amount of liquor and beer bottles thrown near but not in the trash can, they were long past the point of inebriation.
They shouldn't have left this fire blazing. It was dangerous. How could they have been so irresponsible? They were drunk of course. They wouldn’t have a care in the world right now. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Yes, it was irresponsible, but also
perfect. This bonfire just peeled hours off my cleanup time.
I trucked back to where I’d left the pieces of my dear friend Paul. I laid the blanket on the sand and I gently began to place Paul's limbs on the blanket one by one. Once his entire body filled the blanket, I grabbed the ends and hauled it up the small walkway that led back to the bonfire.
He was so heavy. Those lonely nights at the gym were paying off now. I forced myself not to stop until I made it back to the flames. My muscles ached from carrying the pieces so far out. But the longer it took me to clean up this mess the likelier it would be that someone would see me. Time was of the essence. I had to hurry.
Finally, I unleashed the blanket directly in front of the blazing fire. The pieces fell out haphazardly and piece by piece I tossed Paul into the flames. First a hand, a calf, an arm, another hand... until finally, his pretty little head. It didn't take longer than a few minutes to completely submerge him into the pit of fire. Lastly, I threw the blanket in with him.
I simply sat and watched as the flames continued to dance atop the pieces of Paul’s flesh. I closed my eyes, rubbed my hands up and down my arms and took it all in. This was part of the pleasure for me...the finale. At least he died happy, I thought. Who was I kidding? I didn’t care if he had died happy or not. I had only cared if I enjoyed him enough to go through all the trouble of having to dispose of his body. And yes he was worth it. He was worth both the time I spent throwing him away and the time I had spent longing to kill him. Then I rose from the sand and slowly headed on back to my Jeep. It was time to go home.
Chapter 7
The alarm blared and my eyes flew open to see that it was already 8:00 AM.
I rose quickly to mute the brazen sound of the app that served as my alarm clock every morning. I felt exceptionally euphoric today. The thought to go running briefly skirted the perimeter of my mind but I quickly shut it down. Maybe later.
Of course, I always felt this way after a kill. Last night was exceptionally satisfying. I certainly got my fill. The memory of the night alone was enough to ignite a fire in every cell of my body. I felt myself yearn for a repeat of the pleasure of the prior night's excursion. But that was not on the menu for today. And it wouldn’t be for a while.
I pushed the curtains of my bedroom aside and was pleasantly surprised at the beautifully beaming sunny sky. It was a new day and I felt like a completely new human being. It was as if I was still me but, turbo-charged.
Killing was never an isolated event for me. The day of a kill always has me on edge. The kill itself was, of course, the main course of my delicious meal. But the days following served as a desert that lingered within me. I was, once again, reborn.
I could finally concentrate on other endeavors. I could laze about my apartment wearing nothing but a robe and basking in the joy of my life. I could work or I could do nothing. Either way I enjoyed myself.
Coffee, hmm that sounded perfect. Since I didn’t cook, my apartment was full of basically nothing. Vodka, Gin, Southern Comfort, and well any kind of juice that serves as a decent mixer. For coffee though, I'm forced to head to starbucks. There’s nothing like overpriced coffee to jump start a beautiful new day.
I dressed quickly and made my way out the door. That’s when I first saw it. I was turning the lock to my apartment when I noticed the plane black envelope taped to front of my door. I took a look around the hallway but it was empty. I opened the envelope with hesitation. Inside was a single plain black sheet of paper. It was obviously expensive. I could feel the heavy weight of it in my hands. It looked like it could have been a strange wedding invitation. I wondered who would send a wedding invitation in what looked more like an invitation to a funeral. I turned the sheet so as to read the back and all I saw were 2 words.
Nice work.
My senses ignited and I gasped. What was I to make of this? Nice work? Was someone congratulating me on my latest project at work? I just finished it yesterday. I hadn't even turned it in yet. That seemed incredibly unlikely. I didn't want to believe that this note had a more sinister inclination. Could someone have seen something last night? I couldn’t think straight.
Slow down.
It just wasn’t possible. I had been so careful. Everything had gone so smoothly. I hadn’t come in contact with a single person after meeting Paul. Not one single person was on the beach last night by the time I left. There wasn't so much as a bird. No one had even seen me arrive. Ah, but what if someone
had
seen me? Was it possible? Well, I supposed anything was possible.
If someone had seen me, why hadn’t they called the police? They would have done or said something. What kind of a person could witness a murder and sit back and do nothing? Does worse than nothing? They leave an envelope on my door as a high five? It just didn’t make sense.
I carefully placed the paper back into its envelope and slid the envelope discreetly into my purse. I headed down the stairs and straight to my jeep. I hopped in and just sat. I hadn’t even bothered to turn the ignition. I just looked on ahead through the windshield.
I had a problem on my hands. The magnitude of that problem was still uncertain. I weighed the possibilities. Could someone have been toying with me? What did they see? When? They could have seen me last night or the countless other murders I had committed. A headache began to mount my skull.
I ran the numbers through my head and they were staggering. Truth be told, the exact number was unknown to me but the number was getting up there. I had a rather large estimate in mind, but not a cold hard number to reference. I killed a lot of people. But never had I been seen or even come close to being discovered. I had needed to be especially careful with my extra curricular activities if I desired to continue.
I suddenly felt the weight of the world take a seat right on my shoulders. Its legs dangled across my chest making it harder for me to breathe. I couldn’t just brush this to the side as I did most of the uninteresting problems that people faced on a daily basis. I needed to find the person who sent me that note. The sooner the better. Right. But how?
Whoever sent me that note would have to make contact again. Surely, they would relatively soon. Or else, why send the note in the first place? I felt the anger rise up. Who sent this? What did they want? Question after question formed without so much as an inkling to a solid answer.
Chapter 8
It was the longest night of my life. Not a wink was shed as I struggled to sleep in my luxuriously plush bed. I must have turned over that card a thousand times in my hand. It didn't do a damn thing as I mulled it over and over again in my head.
I tried, relentlessly, to make sense of it all but it just didn't add up. What exactly could this note have meant? What was the implication? Perhaps I was over-thinking this? It could have been an innocent gesture from a co-worker. Maybe it was put on my door accidentally. Perhaps it was meant for someone else and they had the wrong apartment number. Probably not. I was nothing if not realistic.
If I was certain of anything, it was that this note had a more sinister connotation. But what message was the sender attempting to convey? There was no apparent disgust. Did they enjoy watching? I would have enjoyed watching too. But most people weren’t as sick and twisted as I was.
The blackness of the envelope and the paper’s heavy weight altogether made my skin crawl. This was a formidable feat as I was not easily shaken. The sender, whoever it might be, was sending a message loud and clear. - I saw you.
The implications were innumerable. Was it possible that they could have seen more than just one isolated event? What if someone had been watching me all along? It pained me to think that someone could have seen even a millisecond of
my
ritual. It was mine and mine alone to enjoy. Those were private events that formed my most treasured memories. It was as if someone intruded on my private life.
Someone was shedding light into my private world. No words could describe the discomfort that plagued me.
I rose from my bed earlier than usual. Might as well get up early if I wasn't getting any sleep. According to the local early morning news, it seemed someone had finally reported Paul missing. Officially, it had been 48 hours since he was last seen.
The news report yielded no known leads. They knew that he was at a bar the night he disappeared but there were no witnesses that could attest to his whereabouts after he left the tavern. Typical. People didn’t tend to care when men went out alone. People always assumed men were fine on their own. That was no longer a general truth. Thanks to yours truly.
Yet, someone definitely saw something. The police were depending on any eye witnesses coming forward with information. Since no body had been found as of yet, it was still technically a missing person's case. It would most likely stay that way for the foreseeable future as I clearly remembered burning his body to a crisp at that beautiful bonfire. It was such a sight. I visualized killing Paul again and it brought a smile to my face. I took in a deep breathe. I lived for moments like that.
I could only hope that the one eye witness that could possibly exist would keep their mouth shut. My life depended on it, quite literally.  They wouldn't be able to tie me to any of the other murders I committed for those bodies were long gone by now. The memories of all of their last living moments lived on only within the realm of my mind. Their beautifully sliced bones would forever remain scattered across the state of New Jersey.
But this most recent kill was still fresh. The freshness of it all was the real concern. DNA was still usable and any amount of trace could be found. The more time that lapsed the better shape I was in. That much I knew. But everything else was up in the air.
Frustration consumed me once more. I had never been in a position beyond my control. This could very well be my undoing. Not knowing what the next steps were would prove difficult for me. Every move up until now was so precise, so exact. The situation unfolding before me was uncharted territory.
Any further actions had to be planned with exact precision from here on out. There would be no more late night excursions. I needed the facade of normalcy for the immediate future. I would need to keep my eyes peeled for anyone or anything out of the ordinary.
Whoever had seen me that night, not only saw what I did, but knew where I lived. They had enough to end me in any which way they deemed appropriate. I could not give them the satisfaction of allowing them the knowledge that they'd rattled my cage. Whenever they came back, and they would come back, I had to be ready.
That's when I heard the tiniest shuffle behind my apartment door. It wasn't a knock, or even a rasp. Obviously, the person came unannounced and wanted to remain unnoticed. Instinct initially led me to the door to see who was there but I quickly shot in the opposite direction.
I peered out of my second story living room window. A slow drizzle had started to fall turning the sky a dull gray. A man appeared wearing a black hoodie. He sludged on through the wet sidewalk inconspicuously. Each step took him further and further away. I watched anxiously for a glimpse at his face but his hoodie provided the perfect cover. I couldn't see much else and as quickly as he had appeared, he turned the corner and he was gone. I dashed to the door and right there just as it was before, was yet another big black envelope.
Chapter 9
The envelope sat on my counter top taunting me as I boiled water to make tea. Coffee was preferable, especially under the circumstances but all I had was water and a few tea bags. It would have to do for now. This had less to do with being thirsty and more to do with keeping these hands busy.
I sat there staring at the envelope as if it would provide me with the meaning of life. Fear prevented me from tearing it to shreds in order to read its contents. Curiosity, on the other hand, seemed to take over and before I could talk myself out of it once more I opened it and inside was another plane black sheet of paper. Just like the other. Two envelopes in as many days.
I turned the card over. Was this a joke? It had to be because all this card had written on it was a set of numbers.
09 07 13
It looked like it could be a combination code. But to what? I didn't own any type of combination locks. These specific digits didn't ring any bells.
Suddenly bells actually did start to ring. But it was my cell phone across the room. Caller ID told me it was my boyfriend Eric. Not a good time, but I knew I had to answer anyway.
"Hello," I chirped. Eric was obviously unaware of my extracurricular activities and it needed to stay that way. Now, more than ever.
"Good morning honey. You sound like you were actually awake."
"Uh, yes I was,” I defended myself. “Must you mock my sleeping patterns?" Eric always poked fun at my ability to sleep through countless hours. This was not the case last night, however. The cumulative number of blinks accounted for all of the time that my eyes were actually closed. How could I sleep with all those thoughts racing through my head at what seemed like the speed of light?
My insomnia would most likely set in again. I hadn't suffered through a bout of insomnia in the better part of a year. It had a habit of coming in cycles. Insomnia was a nasty little bugger that crept up on you just when you needed sleep the most. It always started off as innocent as a night with too little sleep. This quickly escalated to not having slept in 3 days. Then it worsened or improved from there. I silently pleaded that this was a one night stand with my dear old friend insomnia. I just couldn’t afford a long- term relationship with her right now.