Bloody

         The blood dripped into the sink with a light “plunk…..plunk”, each drip bursting into pink against the white porcelain.  I watched the drips for a moment, caught up in the rhythm they created.  Sighing to myself, I reached for a garbage bag so I could start cleaning up the mess I had made. 
         I admired the smooth slice along his neck, opening up his jugular for all to see.  As he bent over the kitchen sink to check for a clog, I reached around and sliced him like he was cattle in a slaughterhouse.  The blood had gushed forth in one side of the sink while he struggled. As he went limp, I released my hold and let him hang, allowing the blood to keep spiraling down the drain, leaving lonely droplets rushing to catch up.
  When the kitchen was clean and the body bagged up, I took a hot shower so the blood didn’t dry in my hair, I hate when that happens.  While scrubbing my hair, I reflected on Mark (the body) and our meeting.
         I first noticed him openly checking out my body at the gym, making crude comments about me to his friends to get laughs.  He eventually approached me at the butterfly machine.  Mark strutted like a proud peacock with his feathers spread, waiting for me to fall under his spell.  And I did, or so he thought.  I had no intentions of killing him at first, it was after we exchanged a few words and my instant dislike for him that changed my mind.  I never could stand egotistical males who think they are God’s gift to women.
         It was easy for me to take him by surprise.  My 5’4” frame is slim and toned, slightly tanned from the outdoors.  My ash blonde hair hangs at my shoulders with bangs outlining my green eyes.  I have a cute look which makes you think harmless.  Years of exercise, martial arts classes, and yoga have kept my 28 year old body lean, but strong enough to take out an average male.  My name is Samantha Gray, and I am a computer tech with a penchant for killing.

         I wasn’t always a killer just so you know, it first happened only two years ago, and it is not like I leave a trail of bodies in my wake.  Mark was sixth on my list, not that I keep count or have a number to fulfill.  They are random acts, never planned far in advance, or always men.  I killed one girl, her name was Stephanie.  She was a lesbian, which I have no problem with as many people put that assumption on me.  Stephanie annoyed me to no end. Well, I guess there actually was an end. 
         She followed me around at the gym and would not leave me alone, until I agreed to go out with her.  I turned her down repeatedly, but she never seemed to believe me.  I take my gym time seriously and prefer not to be social, let alone pestered by some obnoxious girl who recently discovered she wants to kiss girls.
         Stephanie and I met up secretly at night and I took her out by bashing her head in with a wood baseball bat.  I prefer wood over aluminum, less bounce on contact and more easily destroyable, nothing like a Louisville Slugger to get the job done.  Afterwards I dropped her body off the deserted pier, feeding the small sharks that like to come near shore.  I went back to the gym a few days later and was able to have a quiet work out.

         Mark’s body was, unfortunately, not as easy to deal with as Stephanie’s.  I almost debated leaving him, but I had already gone through the trouble of bagging him up.  I stood next to the body in Mark’s garage deciding what I wanted to do with it.  It was after midnight and the street was quiet.  I had already pulled his Jeep into the garage for loading without being seen by anyone, even though there were no neighbors nearby.  I was always cautious as the law seems to frown on killing someone, even if the person was a jerk.
         I decided to dump the body on the backside of an old junk yard. Few vehicles could get across the path and the local wildlife would help rid the body faster. It is always nice to give back to nature.

         Almost a week went by before I was visited by the local police department. I had not returned to the gym yet and Mark’s gym buddies mentioned we had a date the night he went missing. I saw the news and was expecting this, any good police department will check with everyone the missing person had come in contact with. 
         I always thought it was rather ironic that I admired the detectives who worked on these cases considering I had created a few of them. They were stuck with the task of learning the life of someone they had never met and piecing together their final moments. That takes dedication, fortunately for me most small town departments are not as dedicated as what you would see on shows like Criminal Minds.  They lack the resources and manpower to commence in a complete investigation, leaving the case unsolved.
         Detective John Hansen visited my apartment on a Thursday evening, his badge on display as I peeked out the door. He was very polite and formal, dressed in navy blue slacks and a blue striped dress shirt. He stood tall at 6 foot plus with a slim build. His blonde hair was mussed and his eyes were the color of the sky on a summer’s day.  There was no denying he was a handsome man. I opened the door and led him to the living room so we could sit while he questioned me.

         “How long have you lived in the area?” The Detective asked while his eyes perused my apartment, mentally taking notes.

         “About two years.” I replied with a small smile. “I tend to travel every few years because of my job.” I then explained the work I was in and the company I worked for and why they had me moving around. Nodding his head as he jotted in a notebook, looking up he continued.

         “How long have you known Mr. Richman (Mark)?”

         “We go to the same gym, I guess I first noticed him about a year ago.”

         “When was the last time you saw Mr. Richman?”

         “Last week, he asked me out on a date.”

         “And when did this date happen?”

         “It didn’t.” I said quietly, pretending to hide my hurt. “He stood me up.”  The detective studied me for a moment, made a few notes and continued.

         “The gym staff said you haven’t been there for a few days. According to their records, you are there 3-4 times a week.” He stated, studying my body for movements that would expose anything I may be hiding.

         “I didn’t go because he stood me up and I was afraid of seeing him and being humiliated.” I replied, looking down at my lap as if I was ashamed. The detective made a few more notes and stood up, offering his hand.

         “Thank you for your time Miss Gray, I will contact you if we have any further questions. Please contact us if you think of anything else.” The Detective slipped a business card in my hand and smiled.
         His hand was warm and soft, and I felt a moment pass when I glanced up and into his blue eyes. It was only a moment, seconds perhaps, but it felt much longer. The Detective let go of my hand and stepped back, breaking the spell.

         “Thanks again and call with anything.” he reiterated, moving towards the door. I watched and gave him a smile as he slipped out, wondering what the hell just happened.


         I ran into Detective Hansen two days later at the gym. I was on my way to the locker room as he was walking through.

         “Decided to come back huh?” he smiled.

         “Yeah. Can only hide for so long with just one other gym in town.” I said, returning a shy smile. “The guys have been pretty cool and basically left me alone.” I added.
         Truth is I slipped in unnoticed at first. When a couple from the group finally saw me, I looked away sadly. Without Mark there to lead the testosterone fest, the guys seemed to keep to themselves.

         “That’s good. I get the feeling you could probably hold your own given the chance.” Detective Hansen said while glancing at my toned physique that glistened with sweat.

         “I wouldn’t know”. I said, stepping back. “I need to get to the showers. I have some errands to run and work to do”.

         “Sure. Maybe I will see you around.” Detective Hansen said with a wave as he turned away to continue his journey.

         As I showered I thought of Detective Hansen. I have been with a few men, but never had a steady boyfriend. I didn’t see the reason to have a boyfriend when men were so easy to pick up and use when I felt the need. Come to think of it, I didn’t have any real friends to speak of. There was Parrotking and Jugger, who I have been chatting with on-line for a few years. They know me as Freudette. We talk about various topics but never much about personal lives. We divulge what we want and respect each other enough not to ask any further. We game together, share tech tips, or sometimes just talk about a news item. They are probably the most personal relationships I have ever had besides my parents.
         My parents were Tom and Alice Gray. I remember them fondly and still have pictures of us as a family. They died in a car accident when I was seven. I was staying at a friend's when it happened. I will never forget the police that showed up at the door, sorrow in their eyes as they filled in the adults of the situation. I nodded as they told me in calm words that they were taking me to the hospital where my parents were.
         I looked at the lifeless, cold bodies and said goodbye as was expected. I didn’t cry though, and I don’t know why. I stared at the white sheets and felt my world fall away, not  knowing what was going to happen next. I was an only child, as were my parents, leaving me with no family.
         The local church held a small funeral for my parents. I thought it was nice considering we were not religious. I shed some tears then, more from being scared than the loss. The neighbors and my parents' friends didn’t know the difference as they consoled me and told me everything would be alright. They were liars though, because nothing was ever the same.
         I spent the next ten years in foster homes, some good and some bad. I did my chores and schoolwork, but my lack of friends and social life seemed to be an issue with counselors. I buried myself in books of all kinds, which helped me keep good grades and make the time pass. The fact that I wasn’t a juvenile delinquent kept the counselors at bay most of the time.


         I continued my normal routine, going back to the gym and around town as usual but it felt different. I knew in my head I would be moving on soon which was too bad as I did like this little town. There were still whispered hushes about Mark and I have to admit I enjoyed hearing some of the conspiracy theories. I ran into Detective Hansen a week later at the bank. I was leaving with my equipment, after updating their computers, as he was heading in.

         “Samantha, right?” he asked, holding the door for me.

         “Yes. Detective, right?” I asked back with a smirk.

         “Yes.” he laughed. “Please call me John. Looks like you are staying busy”, he added, motioning to my box of cables and software.

         “I can see why you made detective, very intuitive.” I said, my voice laced with sarcasm as I headed for my car. Detective Hansen laughed as he fell in step beside me and asked how I was. We made small talk until I reached my car and set the box on the ground, digging for keys.

         “Nice car.” He said as his eyes wandered over my pretty blue Mazda Miata. “Must be fun to drive.”

         “It is fun, maybe I will take you for a spin some day.” I said loading the box in the car before turning to him. “I figure if you’re in the car then you can’t pull me over.” This made him laugh again and I wondered when I decided to flirt with him. I usually stayed far away from the law as I could considering my past.

         “I am not a traffic cop, but I will take you up on it anyway.” Detective Hansen said, his voice dropping a tone to let me know he was serious.

         Shit! What the hell was I thinking? Wait, the case is still open so he can’t officially date anyone he questions right?

         “I didn’t think cops could date people they question.” I said casually, watching his response closely.

         “As long as the person questioned is not the victim or directly involved.” He replied, moving a step closer and taking my hand.

         “Oh.” Was all I managed as the warmth of his hand enclosed mine. My mind was screaming that this is crazy, I have never let another person have control over me. I have always remained on constant vigilance regarding interaction with others. But something else was telling me to give in to him and it confused me.

         “I better get going. Busy busy.” I said, removing my hand and backing away. I looked up and his eyes caught mine. An urge to kiss him swept through me, but instead I tripped over myself trying to get away.

         “You okay?” Detective Hansen asked as he grabbed my arm to steady me, his eyes full of curious concern.

         “Yeah. I just have a full day and need to get going.” I said, forcing a smile and moving quickly to the driver’s door. “I will see you later Detective John.”

         He watched as I put my seat belt on and put the car in gear, before turning back to the bank. I sighed and relaxed as I headed home, telling myself seeing him had bad idea written all over it.



         My phone sang relentlessly as I dropped the grocery bags and keys on the kitchen counter. I dug the phone out my jacket pocket and looked at the caller id, not recognizing the number.

         "Hello?" I answered, listening carefully for a clue to who it was.
         "Samantha?"

         "Yes…"

         "It's John Hansen, I hope I am not disturbing you."

Shit!

         "Not really, just got home from the grocery store."

         "I was wondering if you would like to get a cup of coffee or some lunch tomorrow, say around noon?"

Double shit!

         "I think that would be ok." I heard myself saying.

         "Great. I will meet you at Cathy's Cafe at noon, if that is ok?"

         "Sure. See you then." I said, hanging up and banging my head on the nearest cupboard. I don't date, let alone date a cop. I must be going crazy.

         "It is only lunch, not a date." I say to myself, thinking I don't have to see him again after tomorrow. I started putting my groceries away on that thought, eventually wondering if my boss was ready to move me again.


         I arrived at Cathy's Cafe early, grabbing a booth near the back so I could face the door. I sipped coffee as I waited, my eyes scanning the other customers.
         The jangling bell on the door announced Detective John's arrival, his eyes moving across the faces until finally landing on mine. He smiled, unzipping his coat as he approached the booth.

         "Hello Samantha, how are you today?" Detective John politely asked while settling in across from me.

         "Good." I said, not sure what else to say. To my relief the waitress came by offering up more coffee and menus.

         "So you never told me how you like our little town, will you be staying or moving on?" He asked as we perused the menus.

         "It is nice. I will probably be moving on within the next six months if everything goes right with the job." I replied, looking up from the menu at him, wondering where he was going with the questions.

         The waitress showed back up to take our order, a medium-rare burger platter for me, heavy on the rare, and a chicken wrap for Detective John.

         "Rare?" He questioned me after the waitress left.

         "I like it bloody." A slight chill ran through me knowing I was playing with fire.

         "With your workout habits I would have thought you were a vegetarian or some health nut."

         "It is good to take care of yourself, but you can't constantly deny yourself of something you enjoy."

         "And what else do you enjoy Samantha?" He asked, leaning closer. My brain stopped for a moment, caught up in his blue eyes. I forced myself to look away so my brain could continue on it's quest for a reasonable answer.

         "Oh, reading, mountain biking, rock climbing, diving. The usual stuff." I leaned back, casually regaining control.

         "Rock climbing and diving?" he cocked an eyebrow. "Sounds a little dangerous."

         "I like a little danger." I said, wondering where my verbal filter was, yet getting another chill as I stepped closer to the flame. Thankfully the waitress picked that moment to serve our food. I dug in to my burger immediately as to avoid any more questions.

         We made light talk about the food as we ate, and then about the weather and town activities while we sipped another coffee. He did most of the talking as I didn't like social activities or care that it is colder than usual.

         "So, can I take you out on a real date?" Detective John asked while walking me to my car.

         "I don't think so, I am not into dating." I said, determined to be logical and end this.

         "Why? Did something happen?" He asked.

         "You could say that." I slash throats and bash heads in, I would call that something.

         "I am a good listener if you ever want to talk." He said, putting his hand gently on my shoulder. I bit my lip to not chuckle at the irony of this, but also thinking what a nice person he is.

         "Thank you, but I am fine. Time is all I need."  I slipped into my car before he could say any more, waving at him as I pulled away, more confusion clouding my mind.





         I thought of Detective John a few weeks later during a morning run. Honestly, I had thought of him more than once since our lunch, wondering how he was. He stayed away from me, which I appreciated, but was a little disappointed too. Logically I knew  I was better off staying away from him, but these feelings I had for him made me want to see him again.
         I was completely lost in thought, my legs moving at a solid pace, when a hand grabbed my shoulder. I do not like being taken by surprise and instinct took over. My feet halted, my elbow jutted back into an abdomen, and my forearm snapped up, connecting my fist with a face. I quickly spun, taking a fighting stance, discovering Detective John, on his knees with blood running from his nose.

         "Shit, I am so sorry. You took me by surprise." I apologized, kneeling next to him, examining the damage.

         His nose was bleeding, but did not look broken. I needed something to soak up the blood that was running down his face and onto his chest and sidewalk. Always bloody, I thought to myself.

         "My bad. I live close by, will just go home and clean up." He half smiled, slowly standing up.

         "I will go with you." I stated, helping him up.

         I grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt and gave it a good yank, ripping the material. Tearing a strip off the bottom of my shirt, I wadded it up and handed it to Detective John with another apology.

         I walked the couple of blocks to Detective John's house, glad that it was still early and few people were out. He unlocked his door and stepped inside, holding the door open for me. I followed him to the kitchen that was to the left of the entrance.

         "Take your shirt off." I commanded, pulling a chair out for him to sit in. He smirked, I rolled my eyes at him, chuckling a bit at the curses as he pulled it over his nose.
         I took his t-shirt and began rinsing it in cold water while he sat and tilted his head back, waiting for the bleeding to stop.

         "I don't think it is broken." he said, watching me out of the corner of his eye.

         "It's not, but you might have a black eye." I replied, keeping focused on the shirt in the sink. When the water was pink and the blood out of the shirt, I rang it out and laid it across the sink.

         "You know about broken noses and getting blood out of clothing?" Detective John chuckled. "Would that go with knowing how to throw a punch or whatever that was you did?"

         "I have some training in Tae Kwon Do and Kickboxing, and yes, I have had a couple of bloody noses." I laughed, grabbing some paper towel off the roll and wetting it. He didn't need to know how much I really knew about blood and how to remove it from items.

         "Good to know. Getting my ass kicked by a cute blonde would not do much for my reputation." He smiled as I approached with the wet paper towel. I tilted his head back, motioning for him to keep it there.
         I wiped across his chest where the blood had soaked through, feeling him catch his breath. I continued wiping up the pink moisture, admiring his torso in the process. His hand grabbed my arm, snapping me out of my admiration, I looked up.
         His nose had stopped bleeding and the wad of torn shirt dropped to the floor. Detective John pulled me to him, landing my butt on his lap, his hands framing my face as he kissed me.
         Next thing I knew I was kissing him back as we struggled to get each other's clothes off. There was something I felt with him that I haven't felt before, I could no longer deny this.

         "Damn, that hurts." Detective John winced as he wiped down his face. I watched him in the bathroom mirror as he studied his nose, taking note of my own feelings at the moment.
         Our fling in the kitchen had been beyond passionate and fulfilling, but this closeness I was starting to feel put me on guard. Whenever I had sex before, I would usually depart shortly after it was over. This time I felt the need to be linger.

         "Earth to Samantha…" I heard Detective John say, waving his hand in front of my face. I looked up and he smiled.

         "Sorry." I smiled. "Lost in thought.

         "Are you ok?"

         "Yeah, but you are going to have quite the black eye. I am so sorry." I chuckled, suddenly finding the whole situation funny.

         "You laugh, how am I going to explain to the guys at work a pip squeak nearly broke my nose." He looked dejected.

         "Tell them you broke up a fight at the gym or something, I would hate for you to be humiliated." I laughed.

         "Too late for that." He smirked. "But the gym thing does sound more manly." I rolled my eyes at him and went in search of my shoes.

         "Just going to run out on me?" Detective John asked, leaning on the door frame as I tied my sneakers.

         "I have to get going, work to do." I smiled, admiring his naked torso again.

         "Samantha, we should probably talk about this." I could hear the serious tone in his voice. I felt the panic flare inside of me, of someone getting too close. Taking a deep breath, I stepped away.

         "Nothing to talk about." I stated, heading toward the door. "I had a great time, you were great. We will have to do it again sometime Detective John." I slipped out the door and started a run in the direction we came from, hearing him say "I wish you would just call me John."






        Detective John was at my door, patiently waiting as I realized I could not ignore him forever. It had been two days since the bloody nose and indiscretion at his house. He had left messages on my phone but I did not return his calls, which I am guessing is why he ended up where he is now.

         "Detective John." I said, opening the door wide so he could enter.

         "Just John, ok?" he said as I shut the door. I nodded, waiting for him to continue. "Samantha, I know that what happened last time we met up was…well, it was not what I was expecting either."

I watched his face, a bit fascinated, as he stepped back and  carefully picked his words.

         "I want see you again because I think we have something between us." John finally said, stepping closer to me.

         "Might as well come in and have a seat." I sighed, leading him to the living room. I liked Detective, no wait, just John. I liked John, but there was more to it than that. I glanced at him as he sat, patiently waiting for me to go through my thoughts.

         "I like you, John." I said, emphasizing the use of his name (which made him smile), before continuing. "But I am really not relationship material."

         "How do you know?" he asked, moving closer to me on the sofa. I considered telling him killers don't do relationships, but thought better of it. I actually didn't know anything about relationships so who was I to say anything about them.

         "Trust me on this one." I said, sliding back a bit. "And I will be leaving town in a few months, why start something that is going to end anyway?"

         "Do you have to leave? Couldn't you find a job here?" He said, closing the gap again.

         "Sorry, I don't make job decisions based on who I am screwing at the moment." I stated, opening the gap. "I like my job and I like moving around."

         "Why do you like moving around? Is it so you don't have to get close to anyone?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

         "Why do you care?" I shot back, keeping eye contact and raising my eyebrows back at him. I was getting pissed at him for  asking such personal questions, yet fascinated by his tenaciousness.

         "Because you fascinate me. One side of me wants to stay the hell away from you, the other side wants to fuck your brains out and make you cookies."

         "I like cookies." I said, watching his gaze smolder, "but I don't like relationships."

         "Too bad because I bake a mean cookie." John whispered before he kissed me. His hand wove into the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling me closer. Damn, he was a good kisser.

         I watched John pull his shirt on, amazed at how easily I let him get my clothes off and into bed, completely forgetting I was  trying to keep my distance from him. He was definitely trouble and this should be the last time. Yeah right.

         "Want to grab some dinner tonight?" John asked, a smile playing on his face as he sat next to me on the bed.

         "I don't know." I said, stretching out next to him. "That sounds like a date and I don't do relationships."

         "How about we just call it eating with company?" He chuckled, his hand grabbing mine and pulling me up as he stood.          

         "Whatever." I said, giving him an eye roll before climbing out of bed to search for my clothes. I was hungry and didn't feel like cooking anyway.

         "So why don't you do relationships? Did someone hurt you?" John asked as we dug into tacos at the mexican restaurant. I pushed my red beans and rice around, wishing he wouldn't go there.

         "I would rather not talk about it."

         "Is it because you are an orphan?"

         "How do you know that?" I asked, surprised.

         "We ran a check on everyone that had contact with Mr.Richman. I'm sorry about your parents. Mine died in a plane crash when I was 15. I was older and had an aunt to live with, but it still sucked all the same." John said, glancing at me with sympathy.

         "I am sorry too. I dealt with it and learned the only person you can rely on is yourself. It works for me and I am fine with it." I replied, digging into my taco in attempt to close the discussion.

         "I am not here to dig up the past, I am just trying to get closer to you." John said, his tone lightly implying I was being difficult.

         "By sharing that you are an orphan too? Am I supposed to jump and fold you in my arms like a long lost relative because we were both screwed in life?" I had dropped my taco and my volume was slowly rising.
         "I am done with that part of my life, and I don't want to discuss it." I said, rising from my seat while digging through my wallet. I dropped a twenty on the table and turned to him.
         "This is why I don't do relationships." I said, before walking out of the restaurant, ignoring his voice as he called to me. I slipped into a jog as I slid through alleys, putting distance between us as fast as I could. My mind a jumble of pointed words as anger seethed within me.