His Love, His Killer
"This is unbelievable." Officer Cross said, scratching his balding head. The crime scene was very self-explanatory: the boy's- no older than 20- body lay on the floor, the blood at his neck no longer pooling out, and the knife that had done the damage was placed next to the body (with no fingerprints to be identified). But what really baffled the Officer was the message that was written in something red- probably lipstick- that read:
Great Kisser. XO, K
Beside that was an also read kiss mark. There was also another kiss mark on the boy's neck, close to where he was cut.
"Nancy, an analysis of the material used to write and...kiss would be nice." Cross asked the young lady beside him.
"On it." She replied, bending down and swiping a sample of the writing. A few minutes later, Nancy returned with a look of disgust on her face.
"What's the conclusion?" Cross asked, though from the expression on Nancy's face, he could tell that it wasn't any lipstick.
"Blood, sir." Nancy stated, pushing her glasses back to the bridge of her nose. "Blood from the victim." Bile rose in Cross' mouth. Sick...he thought, looking at the kiss mark on the boy's neck.
"What of the kiss?" Surely no one would be that cruel.
Nancy shook her head. "Blood as well." Cross cursed under his breath. Another officer- Pennings was his name- walked up beside Cross.
"Fourth one this month. Who could be doing this?" Cross shrugged in defeat.
Sighing heavily, Cross said, "Well, let's get this body to the lab." As Cross ordered two other officers to lay the body on a stretcher-"Careful not to get any hand-prints on the body"- he tried to think of who would be evil enough to leave a message in blood- let alone leave a kiss mark. The Devil, that's who, said a voice in his head as Cross walked off.
The girl giggled softly to herself as she soaked her body in the bubble-filled, luxurious tub, trying to wash off excess blood.
"K, do you read me?" A voice crackled from the speakers on the outside of the tub.
"Loud and Clear." Replied the girl, her voice low and seductive, yet in its own way girly.
"We would like to congratulate you on a job well done." The genderless, emotionless voice said.
"Thanks." K pouter, more to herself than her supervisor. "But he was no fun. I didn't even get to do much with him!"
There was pause, a place usually to be filled with a dry chuckle, then, "Don't worry- your next target should be more ‘fun'."
Interested, the girl leant forward. "And who might that be?" To K, the whole assassination was a game; deception was her game plan, luring the person in was game play, and the killing was the game match point. Needless to say, K had no problems with killing, as long as she got what she wanted in return.
"Name: Carter Righbourgh. Age: 21. Race: Latino/African American. We want him done with a clean bullet through the head." The voice chattered dully.
"Easy enough." K said, a grin on her face that rivaled a Cheshire cat's.
"Good to hear.