Behind Blue Eyes- Chapter Two
The Previous Night......
Michael Donovan cracks open the fire escape door and peers down the long corridor. He smiles to himself when he sees it is empty.
Silently he closes the door again and quickly removes the smelly dark green overalls which have been irritating his nose since he first put them on. From his large canvas bag he pulls out the lightweight blue jacket and the by now slightly crushed bunch of plastic flowers.
With a cold calmness he takes his time to rearrange and sort out the flowers until he is happy. Happy that they will at least look real enough when she sees them through the spy hole or the barely open door. He zips up the jacket and holds the flowers at the left of his chest so that the insignia on the right can be easily seen.
"Joys Florists; part of the Interflora Network." In his right hand is his syringe, filled with anesthetic.
He smiles again and enters the silent hallway. As he reaches the lift area he stops and looks deep into the full length mirror on the wall. He is pleased with his new disguise but even more so whilst thinking about what he is going to do.
Standing in front of her door he can feel the stirring in his pants; the excitement is surging right through his whole body. With the syringe carefully placed he knocks twice on Maureen Burtons door.
"Yes, who is it?" comes her sweet voice from the other side of the wooden barrier. "Delivery Ma’am, I’m from Joys Florists" Michael replies trying to sound as friendly and harmless as possible. He tries to look as uninterested as he can as he almost feels her perfect blue eye scanning him through the spy hole.
Michael thinks he can hear her smile, it is her pride and arrogance that will let him in. She will straight away be thinking that some secret admirer, who has watched her give her usual wonderful performance tonight has sent her this gift. Michael has found great joy in his own gift of always finding his victims weaknesses.
Maureen opens the door fully and can hardly take her eyes of the flowers. "Oh my. How sweet, thank you and let me take them off you." As soon as Maureen takes hold of the flowers Michael leaps into action. His now free left hand grabs her face covering her mouth and his right hand drives the syringe into her neck. She only manages to struggle for a couple of seconds before the drugs kick in and she becomes as limp as a rag doll.
Michael gently lays her down on the large bed and returns to the stairwell to collect his bag; to collect his tools for the next stage.
Maureen is gently undressed and placed in her last living position; her arms and legs are outstretched like a giant X. Michael opens up his bag and lays out on the bed everything he needs to claim his prize. The already cut strips of cloth are used to secure her still limp limbs to the bed frame. The knotted gag is tightly bound around her mouth and he sits on top of her with his large hunting knife ready at his side.
"Wake up bitch!" he mutters softly but strongly as he slaps her face again and again until the poor woman awakes. "Look at me!" he practically spits at her as he grabs her face to stop her turning away with the fear. "Whores like you deserve to die. I want you to look at me with those devils eyes of yours as you breath your last."
With a single movement he picks up his knife and cuts her throat from ear to ear and her blood streams and gushes out of the gapping wound. Michael takes great joy in watching the panic in her eyes and the life that is slowly draining from them. It only takes a minute for her body to twitch for the last time and Michael skillfully uses the same knife to cut her eyes from their sockets.
He places the eyes in a small clear plastic bag and with great care packs away this and all his unused items back into his tool bag including the well used flowers.
The smelly overalls are once again put on and one final check is carried out in the room. He is happy that everything went exactly to plan and whilst he is walking back down the stairwell he is already thinking about his next victim.
Silently he closes the door again and quickly removes the smelly dark green overalls which have been irritating his nose since he first put them on. From his large canvas bag he pulls out the lightweight blue jacket and the by now slightly crushed bunch of plastic flowers.
With a cold calmness he takes his time to rearrange and sort out the flowers until he is happy. Happy that they will at least look real enough when she sees them through the spy hole or the barely open door. He zips up the jacket and holds the flowers at the left of his chest so that the insignia on the right can be easily seen.
"Joys Florists; part of the Interflora Network." In his right hand is his syringe, filled with anesthetic.
He smiles again and enters the silent hallway. As he reaches the lift area he stops and looks deep into the full length mirror on the wall. He is pleased with his new disguise but even more so whilst thinking about what he is going to do.
Standing in front of her door he can feel the stirring in his pants; the excitement is surging right through his whole body. With the syringe carefully placed he knocks twice on Maureen Burtons door.
"Yes, who is it?" comes her sweet voice from the other side of the wooden barrier. "Delivery Ma’am, I’m from Joys Florists" Michael replies trying to sound as friendly and harmless as possible. He tries to look as uninterested as he can as he almost feels her perfect blue eye scanning him through the spy hole.
Michael thinks he can hear her smile, it is her pride and arrogance that will let him in. She will straight away be thinking that some secret admirer, who has watched her give her usual wonderful performance tonight has sent her this gift. Michael has found great joy in his own gift of always finding his victims weaknesses.
Maureen opens the door fully and can hardly take her eyes of the flowers. "Oh my. How sweet, thank you and let me take them off you." As soon as Maureen takes hold of the flowers Michael leaps into action. His now free left hand grabs her face covering her mouth and his right hand drives the syringe into her neck. She only manages to struggle for a couple of seconds before the drugs kick in and she becomes as limp as a rag doll.
Michael gently lays her down on the large bed and returns to the stairwell to collect his bag; to collect his tools for the next stage.
Maureen is gently undressed and placed in her last living position; her arms and legs are outstretched like a giant X. Michael opens up his bag and lays out on the bed everything he needs to claim his prize. The already cut strips of cloth are used to secure her still limp limbs to the bed frame. The knotted gag is tightly bound around her mouth and he sits on top of her with his large hunting knife ready at his side.
"Wake up bitch!" he mutters softly but strongly as he slaps her face again and again until the poor woman awakes. "Look at me!" he practically spits at her as he grabs her face to stop her turning away with the fear. "Whores like you deserve to die. I want you to look at me with those devils eyes of yours as you breath your last."
With a single movement he picks up his knife and cuts her throat from ear to ear and her blood streams and gushes out of the gapping wound. Michael takes great joy in watching the panic in her eyes and the life that is slowly draining from them. It only takes a minute for her body to twitch for the last time and Michael skillfully uses the same knife to cut her eyes from their sockets.
He places the eyes in a small clear plastic bag and with great care packs away this and all his unused items back into his tool bag including the well used flowers.
The smelly overalls are once again put on and one final check is carried out in the room. He is happy that everything went exactly to plan and whilst he is walking back down the stairwell he is already thinking about his next victim.
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