Thread: Very Bad People [Feral + miles]

It was a glorious day to be alive. The sun was shining brightly without being scorching hot. Birds were singing in the trees mixing with the distant sound of unseen children playing, as well as the phantom smells of lunch-time barbeques. All the houses on these streets looked the same. Not literally - here was one with a porch, there was one with delicate designs in the moldings around the windows, this one was painted a gaudy, pale pink, and that one seemed longer on the first floor than tall on the second - but the concepts were repetitious. Beautiful, well-kept lawns, manicured gardens, minivans and SUVs parked in the driveways, with the token white picket fences, golden retrievers and tire swings in the trees that accented the front yards. The idea was perfection, encapsulated and shielded by it's nauseating innocence. A dignified pride in community and kinship and a self-respect that bordered on flatulent arrogance. And Rand wanted to rip into it all. Acid seared through his veins as he drove through these streets at 10mph, his cold, dark eyes scanning and taking in every detail. There was almost something mocking about the fearlessness of this tender neighborhood, something that should have been discouraged in these modern times, almost daring him to take advantage of it's unlocked doors and unlatched yard gates. Poison dripped from the sneering smile he held, cruising along, watching housewives converse on porch swings, gossiping over coffee while their children tossed balls that strayed into the street occasionally. How utterly delightful it would be to knock on one of these doors, letting the unassuming woman of the house answer, only to be shoved into her kitchen, get her ass raped and have her throat slit with the knife she was using to bake a fucking pie. Or how super fucking grand would it be to stalk into an unlocked yard where the tots played in a small inflatable pool unsupervised, and grab ahold of the golden haired mutt that came to investigate him only to strangle the adorable thing with piano wire, right in front of the astonished children's eyes. This much vanity and naivete deserved to be punished but Rand wasn't on a quest to fulfill some sort of grudge against the wealthy and comforted masses. No, a different desire forced him to choose this as his hunting ground, gladly taking advantage of the neighborhood's blissful obliviousness to the evil he represented. For as long as he could remember, Rand had entertained fantasies of violence and force, the need to reenact his imaginings growing in strength as he matured. And so he had. Twice before he'd gone on this little adventure, searching out a victim and abusing them until their life was used up. It had been a month since the last time and still, there were no reports of the previous victims' bodies being discovered, so he felt safe enough to give into the urges again. It was a tough burden for one man to contain. Thankfully, he hadn't done it alone. Glancing into the passenger's seat, his dark eyes danced over the form of his lover, taking her in with an apathetic air. She was his partner, the crucial piece of this play being acted out, for even in a neighborhood as dazed and sheltered as this, Rand would not be able to lure in the precious meat he desired to snare on his own. That's where she came in and there was a part of him that understood and appreciated the sacrifice she was making to go through with this. Then again, there was another part of him that just didn't care how she felt. It was his game and she would do what he told her, lest she end up on the wrong side of the fence. He tried to feel something more sympathetic towards her in that regard, but really, that's what it came down to. He needed this and she, being in tune with his needs, was obligated to provide it in what ways she could. Other than that, he felt no compatibility with her on this issue. He was a monster and she was his puppet and he was fine with things being that way. As they continued to glide down the streets like a beat-up maroon colored shark, he glanced out at the sidewalk on the right side and noticed several meters ahead, a blonde young woman walking in what appeared to be Sunday dress. She was alone on this street with brilliant red hair tied neatly into two Pocahontas braids by each ear, with white sneakers paired with her floral print skirt. Probably walking home from church? But it wasn't even Sunday! Still, his eyes did not leave her as they inched along, eventually slowing down to a stop, idling in the empty street. His pulse thundered in his skull and his thighs clenched in anticipation of getting his hands on this precious, fucking sanctimonious little whore. I think we found our special friend for the day, he murmured in a sultry tone, but really it went without saying. Glancing at his companion, he said, Let's go over the plan once more before we start. Things went well the first two times and you did good-- he paused to shoot a glance out the back windshield, just to make sure the coast was still clear, which it was. --real good, but let's just double check to make sure we're on the same page. How are you gonna approach her? His fingers left the steering wheel to grip at the tight fabric of his jeans on his thigh, a heat growing in his groin as the girl stopped to bend down and tie her shoelaces, still several meters away from the sedan but fully within grabbing distance in a matter of seconds.