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Sep 2014
"Young Man found Murdered in East End. Police believe that in the early hours of Tuesday morning a young man who hasn’t been named  was tragically killed. His body was found the following morning by his cleaning lady. There has been much speculation linking this latest death to the series of murders that has happened in the capital over the past two weeks."

The headline news at the moment, yes another ******. This time another man killed, the ever changing result at the moment is now two men and three young women. It seems the killer prefers severing the femoral artery of his victim, thus securing a fast and ****** end to their poor pathetic lives.

I read intently, the pure supposition by law enforcement officials that seems to me to be almost comical in nature. They bandy words like Serial Killer and Maniac across the pages of every news paper.
I smile, as I fold it in half, placing it neatly on the table next to my breakfast things, for I know that tonight another ****** will occur. First things first though, I have to go and earn my keep.

I work as an investment banker in the cities renown square mile. Yes I am one of those so called pariahs who is happy to receive the extortionate bonuses that the majority of Londoners and the rest of the country, I might add, are all so busy complaining about. I must concede to the fact that I totally deserve every penny I get but I suppose I would say that, wouldn’t I?

Pariah, yes that’s me pretty much to a tee.

Pariah: definition, outcast: somebody who is despised and avoided. Yes that sums me up perfectly even if I do say so myself. Of course most of my friends and colleagues would not be of that opinion at this moment in time but I do believe that they will come to this decision soon enough. As I have already stated, I have a crust to earn so I had better start to make a move, the rent won’t pay its self you know. I won’t bore you with the daily working life of an investment banker, the majority of you idiots wouldn’t understand me even if I did, so I will fast forward ten hours and once more speak to you from more comfortable surroundings, this time in the guise of a well frequented public ale house in the East end of London.

As my night progresses I see her across the now bustling and noisy lounge area and yes, she is something to behold. God has been very kind to this young lady. Her name is Petunia and a more than willing victim one will never meet. She is perfectly formed and voluptuous in every way you can imagine. Just what I am looking for on this lovely summers evening. Over the course of the evening the charm flourishes and Petunia and I laugh, chat and drink our way through it, getting even closer as the night closes in. This is working lovely, that flash of thigh as she rubs her leg along my own. The glint in her eyes tells me that this young woman has succumbed, hook line and sinker to my charms.

Not one of those to big myself up but this is of no surprise to me, as I do believe I have everything almost every woman would ever want. The looks, personality and money, with this in mind, she never stood a chance really. We leave the pub arm in arm, she looks a little unsteady due to the drink.

Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly and she is so prone to take that first step. Our destination, her flat just a stones throw away. My mind racing, excitement so enthused within my cool and calm exterior.

If you have been following the events of the last few weeks you will know that the past five Murders were all committed with a short sharp blade entering into the groin area. I am so aware of that silken metal that the steel presents to my leg. I feel it intently even through the leather sheath that is bound so securely below my trouser leg. I am so aroused at this moment in time.

Inside Petunia’s flat we waste no time getting close as I push my quarry back onto the divan. After the initial fumbling we are almost there. As we taste each others tongues my left hand reaches down to select my weapon from its casing. I feel its coldness in my hand, raising it to the desired position. All I have to do now is slide it forward and penetrate.

My hands are sweating. As we feed on each other with our mouths I feel my hand shaking. I try to shut off the emotions now running through my mind but I cannot do it. I pull my mouth away from her succulent lips and realize that this is just not going to happen. It felt like such a good idea until now, I was so motivated before this but I just haven’t got it in me to **** this beautiful woman.

A sharp pain brings me to my senses as the blade slides into my groin. The pumping coldness that is now soaking through the material of my Armani trousers. I am shaking so much, in Hemorrhagic shock, as my life’s blood pumps from my femoral artery. She pushes me onto my back, as I fight to keep breathing, Petunia looks down at me smiling.

“Thank you for a lovely night -- Number Six.”
2013
Christopher K Bayliss
Written by
Christopher K Bayliss  London. UK
(London. UK)   
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