His breath was hot against my ear as his hands slowly moved down my body. I trembled as his hands and lips moved, conjuring sensation when they made contact with my sensitive skin. It was time for me to end this, before things went too far. He could feel me pulling away.

And he said, “I promise you’ll be my first time, Chloe. I promise I’ll be gentle. I love you.” He whispered huskily. I heard the truth in his voice and let my body relax. If I was his first time he must feel something more than the average relationship, right? It has to be love, he said so himself. My body shuddered with anticipation as his hands continued to roam, this time playing with the hem of my shirt.

He was making me hot for him. And it wasn’t because he was hot, although that always helps. It had more to do with the words than anything else. Sure, boys make all sorts of promises they never keep, but something about the way he said it made me believe. So I moved his hands and brought his face up to mine and melded our mouths together. We were in love; we were special; we were going for it.

He grinned into the kiss as I slowly turned us over so that I was on top of him; straddling him. As the kiss got hotter his hands gripped the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head, breaking the fiery contact of our lips for a moment. I grinned down at him shyly before reattaching our lips and removing the buttons on his shirt. The final three buttons wouldn’t cooperate and I was impatient. I removed my other hand from his neck, where I’d been pulling him closer to me and used it to rip the rest of the buttons off. He worked on getting his arms out of the holes and failed. I lost patience with that as well and ripped the arms so he could free himself.

He grinned as he kissed down my jaw to my neck. He sucked on it there, earning a quiet whimper from my throat. I brought his mouth back to my burning lips as his hands groped my back, searching for the bra clasp. He pulled it off my shoulders and tossed it on the floor somewhere. I kissed down his chest all the way to his navel as my fingers shakily undid his belt buckle. There was a hard lump underneath it, hindering my progress.

I sighed, frustrated as the buckle finally came loose. Now he was kissing my chest, distracting me from my task. It took me five minutes longer than it should have to undo the button and fly on his jeans. It took even longer for me to get his jeans off; too long. He’d undone my own jeans by the time I’d pulled off his. He had them down around my ankles and I quickly kicked them off. There was a fleeting moment when I thought about whether this was the right time or not. I shoved the thought out of my mind hurriedly assuring myself that I was his first; that I was special.

He drew my attention back to him as he hooked his fingers in my underwear. He looked into my eyes, waiting for an affirmative. I nodded slightly as I started to remove his damp boxers.

Once more, his fingers roamed my body sparking bliss. I was scared, I’ll admit it when he hovered over me; kissing me and gyrating his hips into mine. It was amazing. Then he stopped, just as I was relaxing once again. He moved his lips to my neck, to nibble at the hollow in my throat. I sighed, letting him know he was doing the right things. The lower half of my body suddenly tensed and I winced with pain. He’d entered me without warning and it hurt like a b****.

Suddenly his lips left my neck and his hands groped my chest. Squeezing hard; too hard. I cried out in pain but he ignored me as he continued to please himself.

“S-s-stop!” I stuttered out, feeling a wetness in my eyes. He ignored me, but I know that I saw a smirk ghost across his face before a smile was etched into his facial expression.

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, trying not to move as pain shot through my abdomen over and over and over. I was hurting all over, the tears streaming down my face. I tried again and again to stop him, to push him off of me, but all I got was a slap and the threat of something worse the next time.

"Quiet, b****," he snarled once and hate coursed through my body at the words. He kept moving, in and out, and the friction was unbearable. It was horrifying and disgusting and I wanted nothing more than to create a gun from nothing and shoot him to get away. Once I stopped fighting him, he grinned and felt that he'd won. He had, I couldn't do anything stop him so I just didn't move, letting him abuse my body for what seemed like forever. As whimpers of pain escaped my throat, he gave one final thrust and I felt something coat me from the inside.

"Thanks for the f***, w***e," he said as he released and rolled off of me. "And don't even think of reporting me to the cops, you s**t," he threatened before he closed his eyes and draped an arm across my stomach. My tense body laid there for several minutes, paralyzed. My eyes leaked tears but I did nothing to wipe them away. This was my fault. My fault for believing in his stupid little lies. My fault for going against my gut. My fault for being so damn gullible!

All at once, my body relaxed and I rose from the bed, removing his arm with disgust etched plainly on my face. I felt used as I picked up my torn clothes from the floor, but made no attempt to pull them on. I walked to the bathroom and pulled a fresh, clean towel from the shelf. I stepped into his shower, my skin crawling with invisible bugs. I let the scalding hot water run over me, trying to remove every trace of him. I scrubbed with vigour, rubbing my skin raw and red. Finally, I stepped out and slowly, I wrapped the towel around my shaky, wet frame. I picked up my clothes before walking out. Passing through the kitchen of his flat, I walked to the door. Pausing there for a moment, I turned back to the kitchen. I opened a single kitchen drawer and removed a long chef knife. I wrapped a rubber pot handle around the handle and stabbed the refrigerator fiercely. Sparks flew as I moved to stab his microwave and every other appliance he had. Tears streaming down my face once more, my features arranged in a scowl; a look of revenge. When I’d finished with the appliances, I stabbed the walls and scratched his sink all over with my name. Stealthily, I crept over to his TV and stabbed that as well, before carving his name into the center of his living room wall. Off of his name I branched the words “liar”, “cheater”, and “rapist”.

I stalked to his room, the knife firmly in my fingers. The knife seemed to slash the walls of its own accord. X’s, C’s, random patterns. I placed my clothes back on the ground, and leaned over him in his sleep. I ran the knife lightly across his throat, making a thin line of beading red blood appear. He shifted slightly, but didn’t wake. I went across the line again, making it deeper. This time his eyes flew open in shock.

I hid the knife behind my back as I leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“Ready for round two?” I purred, becoming nauseated at his smirk. “Good,” I smiled and plunged the knife into his heart. There was no blood spatter on me, just the knife. He gasped for a couple moments, so I took the opportunity to tell him he screwed with the wrong b****.

And that sealed the ice in my heart.

My past came back to haunt me as I looked at my latest victim. He looked just like he had. I wondered if the story would play out the same way as it did the first time if I was still as innocent and pure. Probably. And I’d still have to burn his apartment.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked with a devilish smirk. I just smiled and nodded to the one in my hand.

“I think I’m good, actually,” I replied, focusing my attention on a bottle of Patron behind the bar. He followed my stare.

“Bartender,” he called, waiting for the barman to approach him. “7 shots of Patron Silver please,” he instructed as he pulled out a wad of twenties. The barman obliged and quickly poured the shots. The guy passed four of them to me before herding the last three in front of him.

“You get an extra because of this,” he explained as his hand moved my glass of wine down the bar. I glared at him before grasping a shot glass and throwing back the alcohol. Setting the glass back on the bar I turned to grin at him. He returned the smile and reached for his shot. He motioned for me to do the same.

“Three, two, one,” he counted before tipping his head back. Quickly, I followed suit, downing the tequila.

“So, what’s your name, babe?” He asked, his words slightly slurring together. Was this guy a total lightweight? I mean, it won’t matter much after tonight, but really? Wow, Chloe you sure know how to pick them.

“Zoey,” I lied easily. “And yours?” I tacked on after a moment’s thought.

“Gray,” he said fairly clearly. “Next!” He hollered as he gripped the second shot glass. I wrapped my fingers around my next shot glass as well and we threw back the shots in unison. He seemed pretty drunk after that. God, this guy is so light he makes a feather look like a ton of bricks! It looked like this last shot ought to do him in.

We drank the last shots before he drunkenly fell into my lap, half off his barstool. I brought his face close to mine and kissed him fully on the lips. The heat between us skyrocketed as Gray got really into it. I pulled away after several minutes.

“Maybe we should take this somewhere else,” I murmured into his ear seductively. His eyes lit up and he almost dragged me to his car. I slipped the keys out of his pocket and jingled them slightly with an innocent smile upon my face. He nodded quickly, eager to get out of the parking lot.

“Where to?” I asked as I started the Mercedes. I hate Mercedes. Gross.

“1068 Elizabeth Street in the British Properties,” he announced, a slightly snobby tone entering his voice. I fought myself not to recoil from him immediately. We arrived quickly, thanks to my incessant speeding and he showed me to the door with a hint of impatience. He didn’t even lock his car door. I know because I scanned the small neighbourhood for witnesses and the car lights didn't flash. I saw no one and followed him in. As soon as the door closed behind us, my back was against the wall and his lips were unskillfully attacking mine. This was excellent, he had no experience with women. I do know how to pick them it would seem.

“Bed,” I stated in a falsely breathless tone. He escorted me up there gently, as if trying to make up for the roughness of the entrance way where he’d slammed me against the wall. Whatever.

I took the chance to show my dominance by throwing him onto the bed and straddling him, smiling at him devilishly. He, of course, took it to mean something sexual. I felt like laughing at the thought.

I kissed him intensely enough to keep his mind concentrated on my lips. My hand trailed down to my boot, easing the pant leg up.

“Baby,” I whispered against his lips. “Are you a virgin?” I asked, removing the knife from my sock.

“Yeah,” he admitted, scared I would walk away. I smiled. My hand brought itself closer to his chest, the knife moving soundlessly on top of the comforter.

“Thank God,” I said quickly. He cocked his head slightly. “I’m in the same boat,” I admitted. He smiled in return. I kissed him once more, focusing his attention away from the kitchen knife in my hand. I broke off to nibble at his ear.

“I promise you’ll be my first time,” I whispered seductively. He gulped audibly and kissed my neck.

Abruptly I sat up, grinding slightly on his hardness. He exhaled sharply. I let him see the evil glint in my eye, the small reflection of the blade. He tried to crawl away and shrank back into his mattress. I smiled evilly before plunging the knife into his heart.

I cleaned the house of my fingerprints and hair, bleached that old kitchen knife, and swiped his car keys. I grabbed his wallet as well; there was about four hundred dollars in there, but I left a twenty in the fold. Glancing out of the huge bay window in his living room, I surveyed the neighbouring houses. No one was awake. I grabbed a Tiffany lamp and a few other choice heirlooms. Grabbed a few of his watches and a couple of his cufflinks. I didn’t want them to think it was a burglary or anything. I loaded the loot into the trunk of the car before entering his bedroom once more.

“I promise you’ll be my first time,” I said aloud as I carved the words into the wall. It looked just like all the other victims’ bedrooms. As I walked out of the house I placed the knife back in my boot and entered the car.

First I drove to my apartment and unloaded all the goods. Second, I drove to the chop shop down the street and sold the car for thirty grand. I walked home in the cold early morning and thought about them all. There’d been Brian’s, Nick’s, Jesse’s, Tony’s, Tim’s, David’s, Andrew’s, and countless others. I remembered how my technique had gotten better with every revenge killing. I shook these thoughts away as I came to my building.

Once inside, I pulled an old tattered book from the kitchen drawer and seized an old hotel pen. Opening to the last page, I read down the list.

Steve – 5674 Alpine Road – October 31, 2006
Aaron – 6435 Harbour Street – November 1, 2006
Brian – 4737 Merryl Lane – November 2, 2006
Arthur – 4680 McKay Street – November 3, 2006
Doug – 3869 Liberty Boulevard – November 4, 2006
Nick – 2506 Swan Lake Place – November 5, 2006
Drew – 2598 Chesterfield Way – November 6, 2006
Gray – 1068 Elizabeth Street – November 7, 2006

I penned him in my records before trudging up the stairs to bed.

The words haunted me as I faded into sleep.

I promise you’ll be my first time.