Waiting

A twisted predator lies in wait to strike at his prey

I sit in silence, waiting, her sheer, pink dress hanging on the coat-hanger rubbing against my unshaven face. My muddy, brown boots stand in line with her pink high heels. I breath quietly, inhaling the fragrance in the air.I hear a bang and the clacking of heels, I peek through the closed closet door as she entered, her dress dropping to the floor, her black lingerie following.

I silently open the door, her back facing me, she turns, too late, I grab her throat, silencing her before she could scream, she resists, we tumble to the ground. Her long blonde hair thrashes around as she tries, and tries, to escape. I smile as tears roll down her cheeks. She struggles.She struggles. She stops struggling. I stare coldly into her eyes as the last gasps of air escape. I unzip, time for the fun to begin.