Evil Lurking in the Shadows…IV

Well well, I seem to have opened up my rather horrific side, the one enjoying killing people. I am a writer after all and I don’t simply enjoy writing about kinky sex. My early writings were a bit more…horrific. In writing again with Christian Jensen, I’m releasing my personal inner beast. I do enjoy a good psychological horror, a story dragging you into your private Hell. We all have our dark sides – whether the need for kink or something else entirely. Remember these are flash pieces – Chris started off this delicious treat and we go back and forth. I’ll give you the link to his last at the bottom and this will continue, the entire story likely finishing in a snazzy book. Remember too that Chris and I have written three together – ones we are very proud of. I do so hope you’ll enjoy – and um, keep the light on tonight…

I am Detective Trevor Lawson. I am a man of God. I’m a man sworn to protect all the innocents, the men and women of honor. I’m the protector against all things Bloodied Manevil, the one who will save you from the horrors of evil lurking in the darkness.

Yeah, the words sounded so damn good I could almost fucking buy into the bullshit. That is if I didn’t know better.

I am a monster.

I pointed my finger at the man glaring at me in the mirror, one I no longer knew, and smiled. Jesus Christ buddy you look like an insane asshole, not the decorated cop. “Don’t lie any longer. You’re just like…him.” Him. How often had I thought about the killer, not only gleaning tidbits of information off his methods but also anticipating his next move? How many times had I been right? Yeah, I knew him, knew exactly what he was capable of. A cold shiver raced down my spine. I swirled the last of my beer before taking the final gulp then tossing the bottle into the trashcan. Belching, I laughed as I wiped remnants of froth from my mouth.

The sound of running water drew my attention and the moment I looked down into the basin I saw her face – her sweet and almost angelic face. I had no idea what her name was nor did I care. The realization I really didn’t give a shit had forced me to grasp an ugliness swirling deep within my bowels. I wasn’t the decent man those who thought they knew me would swear to. The trouble was – no one really knew me, certainly not the dark side I’d carried my entire life, hidden to the point I was suffocating.

Help me. Please help me. He’s hurting me. Pain. Please. Please. I’ll be a good girl. I promise. Please help me! GOD save me!

Her screeching continued and while I longed to shove away the noise, push hard against the wretchedness, I knew I had to stay and watch as she was slaughtered. The visions were my penance for… My need for… My… An evil cackle pushed past my lips as my left eye twitched. Absently I touched my eye, wondering why I was losing my fucking mind. “Honey. There is no God, only the sweet peace of death.” I could have sworn she heard me from her pained expression, one of total resignation. “God I adore you.”

I could see every bruise on her lovely face, every stab wound he’d inflicted, tearing her porcelain skin into a bath of red rain. I watched as her soul began to leech out, her very being fading behind her emerald green eyes. In the last gesture of pleading for her life she lifted her trembling arm, her long red nails far too provocative for demonsthe scene. And I knew, without a shadow of a doubt I fucking knew, she was reaching out for salvation. She was reaching out for me. Snorting, I wiped my mouth, realizing my hand was shaking violently.

What I knew in that second, the very moment her life was being snuffed out, was that I wanted her to die. I wanted her to suffer. The only regret I had was that I wanted to be the one crushing her last breath. Instead, I was nothing but a worthless witness. After darting one last longing look into the water I turned off the faucet, a sickening feeling keeping my nerves on edge. I had no doubt he knew I was watching and that he’d intensified his sick play for my benefit. We were somehow connected, two vile men longing for…

Suddenly the true understanding hit me. I was just like him. I stumbled, my back slamming into the wall. I’d never faced the darkness inside, refused to claim the being living just beneath the surface. Until he came into my life I’d been fairly content to go about every day serving and protecting and… You know what you want. You know who you are. The voice had been there for years, egging me on, showing me everything I craved desperately, yet could possibly never have. Or could I? Breathe. Breathe! Several seconds ticked by as I tried to hold my shit together.

I knew I was grinning even without looking in the mirror. Wiping my damp hands through my hair I inhaled deeply, and could swear the bitch’s perfume was lingering in my bathroom. Yes, he was sending me a message, offering me a slice of his nearly perfect life. “Fucking bastard.” A glance into the mirror was startling. I didn’t remember my eyes being so black, my lips so swollen. I couldn’t help but run the tip of my index finger back and forth across the seam of my mouth. I repeated the move, shoving my lip against my teeth. After a third and forth time I finally tasted blood. The taste was simply delicious.

“Buddy, you need a beer.” How the fuck many had I consumed? Obviously not enough to shut down the visions, the nightmares. I licked away the drops of blood and had never tasted anything so delicious.

The statement was true enough – I needed more alcohol to numb the pain. After grabbing a cold one and popping the top, I moved to the bank of windows highlighting my beloved city. There was something mesmerizing about the flashing neon lights, very comforting. Taking a long pull of the cold brew I almost gagged. The taste was rancid. As I held up the bottle into the light I cringed. The color was tinted with pink, the liquid infused with her blood. HER blood. A flash of light drew my attention back to the window. “Fuck me.” He’d followed me, showing me her tied and naked body, the way strings of blood and cum trickled down every surface of her skin. She was tied by thick wire to a makeshift cross, her limp body shaking, her eyes already haunted. And dear God she was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. Gaping holes in her skin were so artistic, so beautifully ornate that they took my breath away. For a few seconds I simply stood, admiring his incredible work. “Well done,” I whispered.

“Please help me,” she mouthed, her mouth puffy, mutilated beyond imagination, yet I knew what she was asking of me – of ME! She really believed me to be her savior, a holy man.

The second I placed my hand on the glass I was alive and on fire, every part of my body tingling to the point I was sucking in air, trying to catch my breath. He was allowing me a connection, a tethering as he showed me his most prized possession. The sabre was almost perfect in design, the handle made of thick rosewood, the gleaming steel one of the most beautiful objects I’d ever laid my eyes one. Dear GodToxic-Leash-cover I could almost feel the hefty piece in my hand. I was sweating, my breath skipping. The vision was so beautiful. “Yes.”

Do you want me to slice her, fuck her with my knife?

The question rattled in the back of Trevor’s mind. He licked his lips, salivating at the thought. “Oh yeah.”

Where do you want me to cut the bitch, the fucking whore?

The question lingered in the back of my mind. I shoved the palm of my hand against the glass, longing to breath through to the other side. Breathless with anticipation I knew he was waiting for an answer – my answer. He wanted my help. Interesting. “Slice her from her cunt.”

Excellent choice.

While I tipped my head, studying the amazing intensity of the red hued moon, a wash of peace swept through me, a dazzling series of sensations that were difficult to describe.

Her scream jolted me out of my revelry. The sight in front of me was sensational and I felt powerful in the knowledge I’d been a part, a tiny part of such a special moment. As the light began to fade, the vision becoming fuzzy, I snarled, slapping my hand against the glass. “No!” Fucking no way this was going to end. I was hungry now. Oh yeah, I was famished.

I continued slamming my hand against the glass until a ragged jolt of pain jutted up the entire length of my arm. The blackness of nothing, no blood or flesh, no anguish just like the bitch deserved, made me fucking pissed off. I was enraged, blood infused visions dragging me straight into Hell.

Chugging the rest of the tainted brew I tossed the bottle against the wall, laughing at the sound of shattering glass. I stalked toward the front door, jerking my keys off the hallway table. Tonight I was determined. Tonight I was going to find out what it felt like to perform the same delicious acts. Tonight I was going to…

What do you think? Is he insane?

Kisses and spanks…


Chris’ Blog Link


About Cassandre Dayne

Cassandre Dayne is the pseudo for the best selling author of romantic suspense and thrillers
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2 Responses to Evil Lurking in the Shadows…IV

  1. Norma says:

    You know that I love you, Kid,…but these stories are well beyond me. Love you and love that you write them…they fascinate me, but I can’t read them…nightmares!! Love your other side, the sexy, pain…sexy…pain…side.
    Thanks for being you! Wish we lived close by…suspect we would be friends….


    • behalle says:

      Hey I understand – not everyone is into horror/slasher killings LOL. You know what I write the majority of and another little snippet coming today. I thank you so much for reading and you’re right – I bet we’d be friends.


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