Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I stall, chewing my treat, then rub his knee through the blanket. “Hmm… you did promise me a date first.”
Blake’s pouty mouth opens farther, and he stares back. “Oh… I did, didn’t I? The weather looks pretty decent,” he says, pointing at the window, which showcases a blue sky smudged by wispy clouds. “What do you want to do?”
I straighten up, almost bouncing with excitement. “We will go ice skating, I’ll show you my town, we’ll go on a very special tour. I picked a restaurant for us that does local venison and desserts made of foraged ingredients, and the crown jewel at the end…” I lower my voice for effect, “it’s a surprise!”
Blake drinks more of the coffee, and while his silence is almost unsettling, I get the sense that his green eyes are blades slicing into my soul to uncover hidden layers. “I saw you cut into that guy, and there’s a prison cell in your basement, but I’m still having a hard time accepting that you are the Christmas Killer. You murder people. How are you so positive all the time?”
“Oh. I guess I’m just quite excitable, and my… needs are met by what I do.” I get so thoughtful I calm down and sit next to him again. I extend my hand to him, and while he hesitates, he does take it. “I wasn’t always like this. My dad drank too much, and while he wasn’t violent, it was destroying him. He argued a lot with my mom, and I had all this pent-up rage inside of me, mixing with morbid interests I didn’t understand well. As a kid, I overheard my parents arguing about me. My mother said something was wrong with me after I didn’t want to give up my teeth to the tooth fairy, and in hindsight, I guess she was right. She didn’t like to spend time with me, and I only became more sullen. I spent more and more time with my granddad because my father ended up in rehab several times. All around, not a great situation, Blake, but throughout all that, the Christmas shop, the crafts I did with my grandpa, they were an escape into something stable and happy.” I squeeze his hand. I had no idea how much I needed to be listened to like this. I have all of Blake’s attention, and he hardly even blinks. “I was eleven when my father died, and my mother ended up leaving me to my grandpa shortly after. It’s the best thing she could do really, because I was out of control. Always angry, picking fights with other kids, filled with a darkness I couldn’t contain.”
Blake frowns. “A murderer? Out of control? Who would have thought?” I’m not sure if he’s trying to offend me or make a joke, but then he strokes my hand with his thumb and frowns. “Did you go after small animals? Or set stuff on fire?”
My mouth quirks when I realize he wants to know more about my childhood. He wants to find out how well I fit the typical serial killer profile.
“I’m not proud to admit I did set my dad’s car on fire after he died. Hope it doesn’t make me a stereotype. My grandpa caught me, and I thought he’d beat me, but instead, he talked to me about my anger and listened when I admitted how I want to see some people suffer, how it builds up in me like an impending avalanche.
“That night, he took me to a faraway cabin. I think he wanted to either test me, spook me, or teach me a lesson, but he showed me the body of a man he killed. And I wasn’t scared, I was fucking fascinated. That night is a blur, but as we talked, and it all poured out of me, I wasn’t afraid. He could see that. He ended up letting me take the man’s teeth, and then we set the house on fire. I got to throw the match. I never had a more peaceful sleep, and yes, I never wet the bed after that.” I chuckle and roll my eyes.
Blake’s face blooms a bright red, and he averts his gaze. “Seemed too personal to ask. But…. yes, I wanted to know that too. And above all else… I suppose I’m almost envious of how at peace you seem to be with everything. I’m not even close to that.”
I stroke his hand with my thumb. “I have two big things in my life that make me happy. Christmas and murder. And thanks to my grandfather’s forethought, even if I’m caught one day, I’ll be able to show evidence of my crimes being vigilante justice, which makes me sleep peacefully at night. I always have something to look forward to, and now… I have you as well,” I say more carefully, because I don’t want to spook him with my intensity. “If you let me, of course. But you don’t need to make any decisions just yet.” Even though I wish I could unzip his outfit and pump him full of my cum.