Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
I’d run back to her in her mother’s arms one last time, and held her little tearstained face.
“I’ll be back soon Jazzy, I’ll bring you back something nice.” Choking back tears I’d walked away with my heart in pieces.
Then the evil had come and changed everything, and my world was turned upside down.
My life changed that summer; it was the year I lost my innocence. The year I stopped caring about anyone or anything.
It was also the year I learned about my true destiny. Who I was and what was expected of me.
None of it mattered to me back then; not the years of training, or the separation from everyone and everything I knew.
Not even the lost of my youth, as I was flung headlong into a life of mystery and darkness.
All that mattered was getting back to her one day. Everything I did, all that I endured, was with that one goal in mind.
Back In The States
The air was thick with the smell of pine and evening dew; in the distance a ways off, the sound of cars rushing by could be heard through the barrier of trees that lined the property.
The lone figure walked stealthily towards the backdoor of the old cottage.
There was no fear, no hesitation about what he was about to do; he’d done it so many times before after all, it had become second nature.
Only difference was, this time he wasn’t doing it for the sole pleasure of it all.
No, he had been hired if you could believe that. Someone was actually willing to pay him and pay him well, to do what he loved best.
He felt the rush of adrenaline, that high that always came moments before. The sinister grin that crossed his face would’ve put fear in the hearts grown men it was so dark.
The old door hardly made a sound as he slid it open, removing the gum like paste he’d put in the lock earlier that day.
The idea of oiling the door on the pretense of helping had been inspired. He listened for the sounds of the house to be sure there were no late night eaters in the Thompson house.
Making his way by memory through the layout of the hundred-year old house, he found his way to the master bedroom, first things first.
He eased over to the side that he’d discerned to be the man of the house’ when the family had been so kind as to let him use their bathroom.
With a swift move he cut the man’s throat. Whether it was the hiss of the blood escaping, or the wind on her face from the movement of his hands Lenora Thompson woke up.
The scream became trapped in her throat when she saw the large hunting knife with her husband’s blood.
Holding a lone finger up to his lips he cautioned her to silence. “You make a sound and your sweet little girl will be next.”
He started to unbutton his pants, his cock already hard as a pike at the thought of what was to come next.
With her husband’s blood fresh and warm on his hands, the tinny scent adding to his already bursting erection, he approached the now cowering woman.
Her eyes were wide with fear as she tried valiantly to hold back the scream that could mean the difference between the child’s life and death.
His hand came down across her mouth and she tasted the metallic bite of her husband’s blood.
Her stomach revolted as she felt the breath leave her body. Rough hands pulled and tore at the simple cotton nightgown she wore, as she struggled to keep her legs glued together.
A hard punch to the side of her head stunned her into keeping still as the intruder forced himself between her thighs.
The face she’d seen for the first time that day hovered above her, as his hot breath blew across her face.
She cringed and bucked beneath him as he plunged mercilessly into her dry body. He grunted and swore as his body moved over hers, his thick phallus tearing her as she felt the burning pain from his brutal attack.
Her thoughts seemed to go off on their own as she lay there helplessly. Did these things really happen? Why did they happen and to whom did they happen?
All these thoughts ran through her head as tears of regret fell from her eyes.
She knew why this particular horror was taking place knew of the wretched hand behind it. They had all feared it, but no one could believe that such a thing could happen.
Who would believe that such evil existed? She cried for her poor little grandbaby, and the life that would be destroyed.
Why hadn’t they left when the whispers started? Why hadn’t they sent the boy away sooner? It was too late for what ifs now. Much too late!