He thrust it in…it was so deep. He had no idea that a body could accommodate so much. As it hit the right spot, she started to convulse, her face contorting, her mouth opening in a silent scream. And just as soon as it had started, the convulsing stopped; the face stopped contorting and her eyes fluttered close. A puff of breath escaped her sensuously parted lips and she looked peaceful.

Had he not known better, he would have sworn she was asleep. Because he was holding her up, he could feel the gush of the warm, life-giving fluid. It was like her life-force was anointing his soul. The power he felt over her body was almost erotic.

Laila was beautiful. With long flowing black hair, delicate features, big expressive eyes and skin tanned a nice chocolate brown that suggested a recent holiday somewhere sunny. He knew about that vacation. There was little about Laila that he did not know. She had spent his money to book the vacation; it was a different thing he had not been invited to it.

Her skin looked delicious enough to eat. He ran a finger along her jawline, feeling a shudder go through him. He bent and licked her cheek, feeling disappointed and cheated that it didn’t indeed taste of chocolate. He smiled. She was so gorgeous…

“You are mine…even in death…only mine,” he chanted as he pulled out the knife from where he had thrust it into her chest. All the while, his eyes raked over her, as if he was trying to memorize just how she looked in her final throes of life. No one, but no one betrayed Dane and got away with it – not even the love of his life.

He let the body go and it splashed into the water. He didn’t wait for it to sink. He turned around and left, humming the tune of ‘when the saints go marching in.’


One thought on “When the saints go marching in

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