บท 49: Damn you look good when you cry, when tears dry.
Footsteps splash in the middle of the night, the jungle getting thicker and denser the further upstream one went.
"Damn it, where'd she go?"
"The fuck? I swore... well she couldn't have gone far. Not out here."
*huff* "Hey...wait up."
There were three of them, Sophie observed. A fattie approaching middle age, who was surprisingly fast despite appearances. A junkie looking tall guy with a neck tattoo. Last but not least, fucking rat-faced Wilson.
She had forgotten about him admittedly. Of course, he would be baited, though she didn't think he would have the nerve to approach her again like this. Perhaps the numbers had given him the courage. A merry little band of sick sad losers who probably never had a decent conversation with a woman before. Small fry. No names.
Who else would chase a little girl in the woods at night?
Sophie double-knotted her laces as she put her shoes back on over wet feet, tying them tight. Up a thick tree with ladder-like vines crisscrossing it, Sophie hangs back to take her careful pick. Hmmm who to choose?
Her little mini skirt stint with the fake modeling apparently worked too well. To lure three of them to band together like this. How pathetic.
Wilson, as disgusting as he was, was easy. Too easy. There was still use to be made out of him. Ways to manipulate him to indirectly do her bidding. She could afford to spare the weakest rat.
So it was between the aging fattie or the junkie huh?
There were only so many victims on the island. Sophie had a few years left here, 8 if the original timeline could be relied on. She needed to make them last. Enjoy them spaced out evenly, like Ryo's favorite cigarettes.
Eeenie meenie mineie moe. Catch a tiger by its toe. If he hollars let him go, eenie meanie mineie moe.
The big guy it is, says Sophie's lucky finger.
Ah, just Leon's type.
If the brat doesn't come out to eat, Sophie doesn't know if she can save him any leftovers this time.
She crinks her neck, back and forth in a stretching roll. She wasn't rusty, this body was something worse. It was purely inexperienced. A sort of virgin if you will. Well, only one way to fix that.
Sophie's careful with the way her phone screen glows in the dark. Sends a text to the group chat with only two other members. Wouldn't want Mattie to worry, though he'll most likely do so anyway. The communication helped, good tech. investment with the walkie talkies.
Then the junkie gets just close enough to her hidden spot. A pebble flicks and flies. Straight into his eye.
It's more a happy coincidence than perfect aim but Sophie will take it. Junkie yelps and screams, the blunt force doing more than just irritating the sensitive cornea. Fun times rubbing that out, especially without water.
From her vantage point, she throws a few larger rocks in an empty direction. They crack at wood and rock, broken branches cracking.
"Fucking shit!!!"
"There, she's over there!"
Off they go, deeper into the woods at night. Only junkie stays back. He hesitates, rage ready to burst him into a run down where he thinks she is. But he's surprisingly smart enough to choose between chasing a stranger into the night and washing a rock out of his damn eye. The discomfort and obvious sanitation concern prompt him to turn back to the creek.
Good choice, he lives another day.
But not without a little bit of fun himself. Sophie can grant such a good boy that much.
She waits till everyone else is gone. Waits as he bends over, long and boney, notes where the cracks pull up on his exposed neck, spinal cord showing through his thin tank. One splash two splash, an irritated rub of the eyes is not enough. Another splash.
Dunk his whole head under water.
He can't breathe, there's a grappling force holding him down. An uneven distribution of weight pressing his entire head and upper torso in an inhuman twist. He can't breathe.
He fights, oh fuck does he fight and flouder about. He jerks violently, kicks and struggles but it's not enough. He hands can't find any traction and this force twists and pushings. If the burning of his lungs, the pain of his twisted torso and neck wasn't enough, he would feel the lightening of that weight. But the lack of oxygen makes him so dizzy in the head, so light. It's the worse ends of a high.
A very bad trip indeed. A world under shallow water.
A weight that leans back and if he could look up, he might see a distorted demon straddling him.
The lithe demon leans back in a seemingly animalistic curve and twists further, something out of a nightmare alright. Even if he wants to fight it he can't, not with the way his head is floating. But he's suddenly sober with the rippling pain of torn flesh and ligaments.
Sophie takes a tactical knife to an ankle. It was a bit of an annoying reach given her height versus this guy's length but she made do. It's not the cleanest cut but she doesn't want clean, just as long as it cuts through tendon and all, leaving him partly disabled. Unable to walk on that foot.
When he screams, she makes sure to keep holding his head, a good grip twisted into his still greasy hair.
She's not trying to kill him believe it or not. It's with purposeful mercy that she waterboards the would-be predator underneath her. Splash one, splash two, if he doesn't want to breathe right when his head is out of the water well that's up to him. If he can't hold it in when he goes back down, then he's just that slow of a learner.
With a rough and relatively heavy rock, she smashed it into the cut she made into his torn ankle. Works it in real good, roughing up the wound and mangling the exposed bloody ligaments.
Can't allow her knife work to be too obvious.
It's much harder work to keep someone alive and not making any obvious noise than just straight out murdering them. More annoying than anything how she has to hold back, has to carefully time when he'll scream and drunk that mouth back into the creek. If she smashes a tooth or two and the water runs red from a bloody nose, well she can't be blamed. This young body of her's was too soft and inexperienced to control. Not broken in yet.
The junkie does himself a favor and finally passes out.
Sophie is so compassionate.
When she tangles his limp wet form in some of the failed tangled vine nets from the shelter and pushes him down the creek, she makes sure to leave the fucker on his back. Floating down like a junkyard boat down a pristine gutter. There, now he lives another day and is temporarily out of her way. Saved for later.
Either he wakes up eventually by himself or someone finds his beaten form half sinking. It's fine, the creeks water was mostly shallow. The blood wouldn't attract too much attention already in there....unless the piranha type fish were around. Not her problem.
It was hard work not to immediately finish him. He was so close. She could feel as his warm pulse race, as fresh blood spilled and muscles twitch in pain. Could feel as consciousness faded when the watery red bubbles slowly stopped making heir way up. It was so close and so tasty.
But the island only had so much food. Best to save it for another day. Thank of it like picking vegetables or such, yes that's it. Survivor's mentality and all. Self-control and hard work would make it all worth in the long run. She had to actually be responsible now after all.
Ah, the first responsible thing she'll do after enjoying this cheat day is work out some more. Ruthlessness could only get one so far, she needed more muscle mass to back up her actions. Her flexibility needed work too. Sophie chuckles a bit too herself as she pictured her little sister's crying complaints at the increased workout regime.
Oh that's right, can't forget to text them once in a while. Hmm what to say? It's too dark for a photo or a selfie otherwise she would have sent one too. Pictures were reassuring right?
Slipping her phone away in it's safe case in her jacket, Sophie dries off the water droplets of blood on her brand new tactical knife. It was a wonderful test on flesh, cut smooth. Maybe not butter smooth but that's why it was living meat and tough cartilage.
"It's us or them." she hummed, a little in satisfaction.
When she walks deeper into the woods, following after the blind and the dumb, she can't help but play mentor. It was probably unwelcome but that was the life of a teacher or some shit. She wasn't doing this for just anyone.
"Us or them. Here there's no one to tell you what you can or can't do. What do they want to do?"
For all her silent prowling, it was made rather ineffective by talking out loud. Or was it? Steps more silents than if one were walking on their tip toes. The jungle parted for her not as if she were a super-powered being, not as if there was a god on her side, but because she was a part of it. Had become one with the terrain, as if she had always belonged there. Just the same as any beast born and raised on the island.
In a way, wasn't she?
This sort of monster didn't come from any modern city that's for sure. But that's not to say there were no monsters among men. This, however, was her territory. Her naturalized habitat. She could be as silent as any creature here wanted to be.
But why was it, that in such a dangerous place, would anything cry or call out? Why were beasts made with vocal cords that can chirp or sound out?
To intimidate for one, a roar or a growl to fend off competitors. But Sophie wouldn't, and couldn't, cry her enemies away. Couldn't shout loud enough to make them go away. With a voice as sweet as hers, it would actually draw more of them no? Men liked screamers, for the most part, liked the reaction they made. Why else would horror movies have so many unnecessarily hot women screaming around?
Why else then?
"Us or them. I think you know what they want. Why they chose me."
Sophie purposely avoids the path that showed a tired and narrow stumble. Wilson was weak, easy to tire but still useful in his carefulness. It's the reckless broken path, made by a man with wide shoulders and an even more impressive stomach, that she chooses to go down.
"Eeenie meanie mineie moe. My. Mother. Said. To. Pick. The. Very. Best. One. And. You. Are. Now....It."
She can't help the grin, the rising heat, as she skips. Gotta look a bit out of breath, a little more alluringly flushed. Make herself all the weaker and tempting. There's was no blood left splashed on her right? Nope good to go. Oh but her lips did feel a bit like cracking from how wide she was smiling. Had to stop with that.
A bit of cherry chapstick, a few pops of the lips. Alright then, one damsel in distress coming right up.
Even without the broken path, invisible in the wild jungle except for hunters or like, it was easy to tell which way the fattie went. Just follow the trail of trambled pink flower petals. The trail she set up earlier as she weaved her little crown.
Really now, men need to appreciate more all the hard work girls put in to set the mood and make themselves pretty! Even girls like Aubrey had to put in a load of effort. It really wasn't fair.
When she pouted she looked even cuter. Pink lips begging to be punished. Sophie leans up to blink a few times, work up a bit of those crocodile tears to moisten her big brown eyes. No extra make up of gimmicks needed, she was all the scam needed against small fry like this one.
"Why set this up? Why would I do this? Well why would they follow me in the first place? Someone like me?"
Silence. There is no response in the air but silence.
"Is it because I'm small? Or attractive? Is it because I don't look like I can fight back? Why me?"
Too silent, the jungle can never be this silent, not at night.
"Why?...It doesn't fucking matter." she laughs, fully breaking in the too dark night. Little to no moonlight can make it through leaves this thick.
"It happens. It happened. And it doesn't fucking matter."
Sophie breaks out into a run, sudden and rushed. Suddenly she is no longer a part of the night, of this place. She is a lost and lonely little girl, scared for something can't understand. Her breaths pant heavily as snaps and shudders across the forest floor.
She runs seemingly without direction. An Alice lost in wonderland. It doesn't matter.
There are endless things in the dark and unknown. Scary things. The Cheshire cat lazily swings its tail watching, eyes glowing in the night. It makes no sense but then again what does. So this, by comparison, makes the most sense.
They're all mad here. From the beginning to the end. Everyone's mad and always has been. It just takes a bit of a fall to let them see it.
A girl runs into the unknown, her skirt fluttering as little legs climb. She runs so hard she doesn't know the meaning of modesty or discretion, just a wayward fear. Yet she is still so lovely, as young girls tend to be.
She doesn't see it then, couldn't have, when she runs right into him.
"Ahhhhh!!!" her screams of surprise are so playful, so sweet.
The man can't hold on to her fast enough, not with how excited he was. She drops and slips easily from where she once bounced into her chest. It's soft. Never mind his still jiggling fat, she's so small and soft!
Just that short contact, that momentary sensation has him trembling far more than the spot she left.
He's a no name, a nobody. So what if he had a good job or made good money. There were no good girls out there that want him back. Women rejected him left and right, teasing their way into his wallet and then breaking his kind heart. Women were so cruel. God was cruel. For making them so pretty.
He's long ago given up on real women.
So pretty yet so ugly. Girls across the screen were the best! His hard earned paycheck was better off being spent on his stans and favorites. From new coming idols with their pure smiles to his long standing 4d wifus! How could normal woman ever compare?!
It was hard loving his girls from the other side of the screen. He was just another fan in the legions of their worshippers. Without any regrets, he would spend and support his favorites in the merchandise and gear, in online votes and fandom poles.
But he was human and a human man had needs.
He wasn't getting any younger. He thought about it yes but paying for a prostitute was just so sad, so dirty. How could he taint himself with their dirtiness? How could he ever face his innocent idols or wonderfully kind and smiling game girls ever again? It wouldn't even be satisfying, he bet, to use a dirty woman even if it were for such a dirty thing.
His wifey had helped.
Comforted him all through the lonely nights. She was basically perfect, never nagged or expected too much from him. She would always be there waiting for him after a long day at work with that beautiful smile and still there after a night of lovemaking.
He spent a lot of money on her. From hair to clothes to makeup. She cost a lot and it brought him so much joy to dress her up, a doll just for him.
But no matter how much he spent he couldn't get her to cook him a meal, to talk more than a few programed lines, or even move during sex. A doll just for him. His wifey-chan. She helped him so damn much.
But she wasn't so soft, she couldn't cry.
This girl here was real. She was warm and soft and shook so cutely in tears. It was entirely differnt than a vibrator setting. She made him so painfully hard with those that crying and trembling. He couldn't stop picturing how that natural shaking would feel under him.
It wasn't dirty. Not if it was a girl like this. She was cute enough to eat, definitely beautiful enough to compare to any rising idol in an exotic language he didn't speak but understood well enough. This moe! A real moe girl! A 4d anime wifey come to life!
Her hair was a little too short for his taste but that just made her all the purer and more refreshing. Free from the pressures and expectations of women and the dirty real world. She was like a loveable heroine from a Ghibli movie! Other men may leer at boobs and all that but he was nothing like those disgusting other men. His love was pure!
But it was so hard to stay pure in front of this. When she ran he near kept tripping not because he was tired but from how hard he was. Those flashes of innocently sexy panties were just too much. Stright out of every anime! He almost wants to thank god for giving him this chance, even if he dies here. Wants to thank god for dropping him so close to paradise.
The rippling of her tender legs as she ran looked soft beyond compare. Sofer than any upgrade he could pay for on wifey-chan. Ah wifey-chan! How could he betray wifey. Sure she wasn't even alive but she was real in his heart.
But wifey isn't here and a man had needs. He can't remember when he's been so close to a real girl, let alone one as pretty as this one.
Sure she wasn't as pretty as his dolled up wifey, few real women were. Even idols or celebrities. But she was real and wow, oh wow did real girls smell so good. So pretty.
When she tripped and fell his heart hurt for her. What if she scratches up her soft delicate little legs, or bruised her sensitive knees. Real girls had to be treated gently!
She was so young too. Definitely pure, as pure as his idols! Pure black hair, doll face, so much more and all in natural flesh.
The thought of being her first made him giddy, made his body juggle almost violently.
It was a little wrong yes, to scare and force an innocent girl. But this whole situation, this whole place was wrong. If not him some other bastard would hurt a sweet pretty girl like this! Another macho bastard to eat her up and leave him on the side with nothing to even watch. He couldn't, he couldn't just let that happen. He was sick and tired of it happening!
Real life wifey-chan rolled on the forest floor. Thankfully it was soft green grass that she fell on, no scars on those pretty little legs.
He felt awe struck, speechless when she turned around. Her developing Loli chest panting, panties showing, face entirely flushed in that cute crying.
"Get away! Please don't hurt me, get away!"
She shivers like a bunny rabbit. Oh she would look so good in a rabbit costume. In cat ears. In absolutely anything!
"Stop! Don't get any closer! Please stop, please let me go! Please I won't do or say anything if you please just let me go."
Feeble she kicked herself back, unfortunately lowering the sight of her skirt but those thighs. Those wonderfully soft thighs! Ah he always wanted to try sleeping on a girl's fluffy pudding thighs, just once. And a school girl's at that! He couldn't hold on!
"AAaAaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!" she screams when he dives, straight toward the goal.
It's heaven.
Truely heaven to be between a pretty school girl's squishy thighs. The virtual reality and mixed silicon doll parts really can't compare.
His stubby chewed nailed fingers sink into the flesh of those supple thighs. The perfect amount of sweetmeat and fats. He nuzzles into them, right in between them just relishing in how they feel against his face. Up ahead is the holy lands, he can smell her so close.
She's right where he wants her like this and she gives. She must give up because she doesn't fight it. What a good girl, a good pure girl. Just like in his eroge games, he'll be sure to make her feel good. To bring her to heaven like how she has him.
The pressure of those fleshy thighs tighten around his head and he swears he sees god.
Or maybe it's from the sudden impossible twist. His head is trapped as it snaps quickly and uncomfortably. Pain and pleasure, heaven and hell.
Out of nowhere, the girl lifts with her upper body on the ground, using her legs to tight wrap around the large man's fat neck. Using his shocked body as leverage she pushes herself up and over him, fully grappling with every ounce of her body weight.
It's not enough to break his neck but the sudden force was damn close.
Squeezing tightly with her legs, Sophie does her best to fling her weight around, twisting the wannabee rapist over himself. There's the popping of bone, like one hears during a gym session gone too long.
Not enough.
The not quite old yet fattie has his clothes ridden down in his exertions. Pants low to spill out the top of an unflattering pimple pocked ass.
Sophie aims and stabs.
She goes quickly. Shallow at first in all the flesh but as the hole to his ass, his spine widens, so does her knife. Stabbing deeper and deeper into him. She wants to play more but the shock wears off with the searing cutting pain. In a final thrust, she goes for the base of the spine, hoping to fuck up some walking capacity there.
As he thrashes about, Sophie feels a disgusting wetness between her legs. The 'victim' had lost control of his mouth, his tongue and drool slobbering out messily. His face was an interesting shade of red and purple while the top of his eyes bulged like that of a stress toy about to pop.
Unfortunately, Sophie does not have thighs strong enough to destroy even a melon, let alone a human head. Shame, it would be fun, even if it was just once.
When she kicks off of him, finally ready to get off this sad bull ride, she pushes hard with both hands. Stabbing the base hold of the tactical knife into the side of his head, aiming right for the ear.
It's enough to draw blood from blunt force alone. More importantly it should wreck the man's senses, throw off his balance with all the force a girl about 5ft tall could inflict.
His broken glasses shatter to the ground in bent bits and pieces.
For fun more than function, Sophie kicks him a bit into place. Kicks right where it hurts, where he was once so lively. Stomps on it a few more times for good measure.
"Still want to catch me?" she taunts, boots still crushing his mashed up dick.
He's too much in pain to make much of a sound, a desperate squealing of air squeezed out. His head feels like a wrung rag, his neck if not broken then sprained. Oh but his dick, his god damn arrrrggg!
He catches his breathe to howl in excruciating pain. There is a bloody gaping hole from his ass to his spine and he's being stomped on by the pretty little girl who put it there.
This was not the sort of hentai he was picturing for the evening.
Sophie kicks him again to shut him up, kicks low to somewhere his new hole should be feeling it
"I told you to get away." she says simply, face cold and hard.
If the sudden violence didn't make him limp, that expressionless face would have. She looked down on him as if he were no more than a filthy bug that dirtied her shoe. Right at this moment, against all reason, she looked like every woman that ever laughed at or rejected him.
It hurts.
It hurts so damn much.
It hurts everywhere as she twists his wrists into ties behind the gap in his back. He can't even scream when a thick stick stabs its way into his mouth. It makes him gag and bite into his cries.
"I said to leave me alone. But you didn't."
He wants to beg, wants to grovel for mercy but this girl is so evil. So cruel. A devil of womenkind incarnate, into a trap of a sweet looking girl.
"Why me? You didn't have to chase me down, didn't have to follow me specifically. Why me?"
He frantically shakes his head because he doesn't know. He doesn't know anything but the pain!
"Is it because I'm small? Is it because you thought that I can't fight back? That I can't do anything but take it?!" her voice gets increasingly louder, angrier. Reach a crack.
There's no pause to even answer with his eyes. Sophie has him quickly flipped over and kicked up onto his knees. Her hand grilling the fold of his neck is the only thing even holding him half up.
"Oh you're crying? That's such a good look on you." calm, that emotionless calm is back again.
Sophie pats at the non bloody cheek, taking a good look at her first real meal.
So ugly. His face is a mess if it wasn't natural already. There are fluids mixed all around with more hot tears streaming from bulging red eyes. This is a face of not regret but pain and fear. A pathetic show of a man's bare being.
What he sees through the blurred vision of his own tears is a pretty little monster. If a doll came to life to exact unholy revenge.
"It's us or them." she whispers, caressing his swelling face gently.
Oh god when was the last time anyone ever done that to him? Ever? Never? He can't stop the sobbing, which chokes him further on the stick and mucus clogging up his airways. Her gentless hurts in ways he can't even begin to explain.
"Us or them. What they want to do to us versus what we can do back. This man isn't one of the ones who hurt you...I know it's not the same. But he would be one of the ones who want to hurt you....just like he wanted to hurt me. You know the type right..."
Sophie slowly, gently nudges the jagged stick out of this man's mouth. It feels like a mercy and yet he doesn't dare breathe, not when he sees the sharp shaved end of the stick.
In one swift motion, opposite of the softness she just showed, she stabs the stick violently into the ground. Stabs it in a few more times for good measure, pulling his head along as she kicked it stable.
"What do they do to men like this? At first, I thought it was alright if they just...went away. All would be fine if they didn't exist...but then....it doesn't happen. They don't go away...and I got angry."
She pulls him by the hair, dragging an unsheathed knife under his nose.
"No no- pleeeese" he sobs out, barely coherent.
It was all too much to take in, to make sense of. He followed a rabbit and ended up at knife point with a maniac.
" Is that what you said too? At first? But it never worked. I know. Now I fucking hate, hate saying the word please. They love that, when you say please. When you break and beg. Gets them all the more excited. Pleeeeeease."
She plays with the knife, tracing it across his skin but never cutting. Her breath is harsh and sweet, ticklish on his ear. It all hurts too much and his body has betrayed him in the sickest sense.
He's getting hard again.
"Right on time. They're not, I know they're not but sometimes it really feels like all the men in the world are the same. And the world lets them get away with it."
Sophie doesn't drop the knife, but she relaxed her hold on it. Dragging it down the big man's crouched front, cutting away at the belt getting a different sort of painful at his pants.
"There's no one to protect us here. Not that they did much back there. But here? Stuck on this shitty island in the middle of nowhere? There no one to protect us."
Wipe off the blood, crossing the grain against ripped pants. Sophie was an expert at keeping the blade from rusting. If it made the creep on his knees shiver in confused arousal, well that also wasn't her problem.
It was dangling right there, the thing he wanted to violate her with. She could so easily just...Nick it off?
But it wasn't good to go too heavy on the first meal. Besides, it didn't feel right, didn't suit the cut. This type of shit wasn't even on her list, just a passing junk run. An impulsive little guilty pleasure.
"There's no one to protect them.....so....what do you want to do with that?"
Sophie lifts the limo man up high, higher than her small frame should have allowed her to with a grown man so large and heavy. She holds his head is if it was already severed.
"Sophie! Sophie are you there?!
"Sophie! We caught him, we caught the creep. Sophie!"
"Sure she went this way?"
Unexpected voices, following up the creek at night. A man, no two men and a woman.
Not her siblings, no they were up back at the cave. This wasn't them. This was her oversight, her mistake.
"Sophie! Sophie!"
Dead boy walking and Aubrey's bodyguards. Sophie sees how it could have happened. The perverted fucks follow her into the dark and the good samaritans follow them. Her fucking mistake for being too obvious.
Hmm what to do?
Those voices were only getting louder. She doubts they'll find her but the mood is ruined..She can't really enjoy her meal like this.
Does she finish it quickly? Throw the evidence to nature and the wild? Oh but that would be such a waste.
Sophie doesn't like waste.
She makes a gamble.
"Us or them. They can do what they want. So? Why can't we?"
She drops the hysterical man, kicking a gag into his mouth. Not her problem anymore. She does, however, look up before she walks away.
"Do with him what you like."
Left arm, right arm, roll the neck. Sophie stretches and relaxes, willing the blood lust away. Or at least make it look that way. She's a scared young girl, hiding and limping in the dark woods from the scary strangers who are after her.
Yes, that's the story.
Slowly Sophie gets into character, limping her way to the creek.
A rough thumping, the sound of something gracefully landing on its feet.
Sophie doesn't need to look back to know who's there, who has been watching this entire time. Just a cat, a naughty stray cat.
A dark skinned boy with lynx eyes stands in the dark. Rather than blend in he seems to glow. A child that looks no older than 10 and rougher than the streets that raised him.
From the corner of her eye, Sophie glances as he lifts the bleeding man by his head, just as she had earlier. She watches silently, subtly as he observes her back. His face even blanket than hers if not for the curious draw of his eyebrows.
Leon needs two hands to drag up the man, but he does. Does it with a strength that comes from too many 'no choice'. He lifts and looks at the sick sad adult in the eye.
For a moment the bound, gagged and internally stabbed man thinks he's found salvation. Hope for survival and maybe redemption. He doesn't get long to think that though.
Two small hands grip tight, then slams the stranger's head down onto the stick, right into the eye socket.
The kid lifts up and back down again, making a sickening squishing sound. Bobbing the head a few times before pushing deep, into the brain.
Sophie turns and keeps walking. There are people to distract and she doesn't want to ruin Leon's fun by something as silly as witnesses. They are, after all, her fault. She doesn't get to stay for the very end but she's pleased none the less. So much more so than if she killed that lost cause herself.
This wasn't what she had intended, nor was this the offering she had picked out for Leon. But she was happy and satisfied all the more by the surprise.
That's still her Leon alright.
Well, that was enough of playing for tonight. Now it's time to go back to damsel in distress. She limps and lets out a few wet cries.
"Help....I'm over here! Help..."
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CCmei
CCmei Was this the show you were all expecting?
Thank you for waiting and reading.
I appreciate all the stones, love and attention I still get despite my writing speed. May you all have happy readings wherever you are.
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The author actually a big wimp, and not a murder. I am writing this on mobile in my room bc I'm scared of the mosquito in my computer room. I saw it fly at the screen &ran out screaming.
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The violent writing hamster has gone to sleep for now. Till next time
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