{ONE}

His heart pounded as he turned down the dark street. He was craving the perfect girl. He hit the brake pedal until he was barely doing ten miles an hour. The girls took notice to him immediately, calling out to him. He needed the perfect girl.

His eyes scanned over the half naked women. Then, he saw her. She wasn't making herself obvious, she just stood there, looking at him. He stopped the car and smiled at her. She had no idea what was about to happen to her. She took his que and walked over to the car, leaning down and resting her elbows on the door.

"What do you want daddy?" She said, staring into his eyes deeply.

"What you got?" His deep, gruff made her smile.

"It depends on what you want. I'll pretty much do whatever you want."

He sat and thought for a moment. He could barely contain his excitment, "What if I want it all? Sex, blow job and some kinky stuff."

Her eyebrows raised, "What kind of kinky stuff?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

She gave him a smile and then glanced behind her, "300 and I'll do whatever you want me to do."

He dug into his pocket and flashed the roll of fifty dollars bills. He almost lost himself when her eyes flashed and her smile grew bigger and bigger as the money clouded her judgement. She lifted up from the car door and walked seductively in front of the car and to the passengers seat. He popped the door open and as soon as she was in, took off toward his favorite spot.

His mind raced as they drove toward the deserted park. No one but drug dealers and crack fiends inhabitted the park anymore and they would be too far past blown to know what he and his lady were doing. He pulled down the street that was barely lit and then made a quick left onto a gravel road. Once he was sure that his car wouldn't be seen from the street, he turned off the engine and threw the keys into his pocket.

"Follow me."

They exited the car and started walking over to a shaded part of the park. Once they were under his favorite oak tree, he turned toward her and looked her body over. He couldn't have imaged her better if he had tried. His favorite kind of girl. Long, dark brown hair, skin the color of coffee after you've added the milk. Big, doe eyes and a body to die for. He was going to have fun with her.

"This is where you want to do it?"

He doesn't answer but turns around so his back is to her. His fingers play with the hard object in his pocket, debating if he should do it now or after they've had sex. He could feel himself becoming hard at the thought and he knew that he couldn't possibly wait until after they'd had sex. He pulled the object from his pants and whirled around toward her, pointing it at her.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the gun. Instantly, her hands went into the air and her chest started to rise and fall harder, "Listen man, I've already said that I would do whatever you-"

"Shut up."

The same voice that had made her smile just minutes before was now making her shake. She stood there, gulping harshly, waiting for him to make a move but he doesn't. He just stands there, looking her up and down and smiling to himself.

"You really are beautiful, you know that?" He says, cocking his head to the side.

Then out of no where, he pulls the trigger, the bullet striking her in her stomach. She falls to the ground, her hands fly to her now bleeding flesh. She stairs up through the leaves of the oak tree and through the breaks, she can see the dark sky and the stars.

"Don't move, okay?" He says, giggling and jogging back to his car.

He returns in moments, and unties the plastic bag that she had noticed when she first got in the car. Piece by piece, he pulls out the objects and tosses them to the ground. A hunters knife, ductape, rope, gloves, condoms, a camera and a video camera. Her heart beat begins to quicken as she watches him.

"I told you there was going to be some kinky stuff."

He laughs.

He watches her squirm and the hardness in his pants becomes stiffer and stiffer as her cries begin to grow louder. As the blood suirts faster out of her body. He sets up the tripod and connects the camera onto it's hinges. He turns the camera on, makes sure it's recording and picks up the rope first and drags her so that she's leaning up against the tree. He ties her hands behind her back and then ductapes her mouth shut. He runs his fingers down her face and smiles as he watches her cry.

Oh yes, he's going to have fun killing her.

He picks up the knife, raises it above his head and watches as she closes her eyes. He loves it when they pray just before they die.

"Hope he heard you." He says.

He brings the knife down forcefully into her chest, stabbing her thirty two times before he stops. She's stopped moving, her head had slumped to the side, her eyes are still wide open. He closes his eyes and smiles as he feels the warm blood drip down his hands. He rips what little clothing she had covering her torso off and flattens his palms against her chest, rubbing his hands in her blood.

A relaxed sensation rushes over him as he digs back in his pants to massage himself. He then rips open one of the condoms and does to her, exactly what he told her he was going to do.

Once he was finished, and everything is packed back into the plastic bag. He takes out the wade of cash that he promised her and plucks out a fifty. He kisses it lightly and then throws it into the night air and lets the bill prance down to her body. He blows the dead girl a kiss and stands there for a moment to admire his work. He takes the camera from his pocket and snaps a photo before walking off.

He climbs back into his car and makes his way back to his apartment, where he will pop in the video he just made and jack off to his last victim. Her now cold body lays up against the large oak tree. Her dead, glacy eyes stare out into the distance while her mother waits for her to come home just a few blocks away. Her mother has found her daughter a proper job, and finally has enough money to send her to college for two whole semesters.

The mother waits and waits, but her daughter never comes home. Fresh out of orgasm, her killer retraces his steps but this time by foot. He situates himself in the bushes, a couple of yards away from her dead body and raises the cell phone to his ear, while looking at his masterpiece.

"911 emergency, how can I help you?"

"I'm on 3rd and Franklin and I've just found a dead body."

He hangs up before the dispatcher can ask his name.

He pulls out the turkey and chesse sandwhich he made himself and waits for the police to arrive. This was his favorite part of the kill. Standing only yards away, while the police scratch their heads and ponder whose killed yet another young prostitute. Maybe his favorite cop will come tonight too. He's usually on duty Friday nights. The thought of the cop brought another tug in his pants. After three murders, he still hadn't learned his name. But he could smell him, even before the cops reached the scene. He could see the young cop's short, curly, dark hair, his pink pouty lips, his strong build. He then heard the sirens and smiled to himself.

Tonight was going to be a good night.