Thread: MurderMe.com (AndNich123 and boyo)

At her words he started, she had come up behind him munching on a funnel cake of all things. As she walked up to him the realization hit him, it was her. The waitress from the diner. He couldn't believe it was her, the nagging idea of it, the things she said, it had to be. In the flesh there was no doubt. Most times he heard of people doing this sort of thing, suicide, assisted suicide, it was because they were sick. Something terminal and they wanted to handle it on their own terms. Molly, yes, that was her name, she did not look sick. Still, you never knew what was really going on inside someone, sometimes the eyes would tell you, but not always. Indulgent, decadent, just words to excuse or condemn. I've heard them a few times myself, the fingers were in front of his face holding a piece of cake. The fried dough, golden and crispy, little pockets of air fried into the batter that was all covered with sugar and chocolate syrup. Tempting, if you liked that sort of thing. Smiling at her mischievously couldn't help but hear the inference with the man in black, true he was in black but the allusion was unmistakable. Unless you liked Johnny Cash. Gabriel, he said as he leaned forward, lightly taking her hand in his fingers. Like the angel, he added as he moved her fingers towards his mouth. Teeth grabbed the piece of cake, the fried cake crunched lightly in his mouth. The sugar coated his tongue with sweetness, then as if intrigued he looked at her fingers. Though slightly smooth they were hands that had seen life, not exactly calloused, she was far too young for that, but these were hands that did things, made things, like the maid and butler. As he looked at them he brought a finger to his lips, kissing it lightly and taking the sugar off her finger tip. Then slowly he sucked the tip into his mouth, feeling the skin against his tongue that wiped the sweet coating away, his tongue swirling around to feel the smooth edge of her trimmed nails. A slight hint of chocolate as he cleaned the finger, a moment of intimacy as he sucked and kissed the coating away. Looking up at her did the same with the other fingers, slowly, methodically he worked his way across all four fingers, removing it from his mouth and staring closely at it to assure himself he had done the job well. While he cleaned her fingers he looked up into her eyes. Mostly it was a physical reaction. A response to external stimuli, or perhaps something within the brain that triggers and the eyes change. Pupils dilate, the color and intensity of the iris changing, depending on mood or reaction. There was a lot to read there, if one knew but how. In Molly he saw a lot of conflict, nervousness, fear, excitement. So much just from those little windows of the soul, momentarily shuttered when she blinked, the shape and length of the folds around the eye adding so many more clues to her as he licked her hands clean and leaned back. Yes, we should talk, that was the crux of it right now he thought. Could he kill her? Once when his friends had been together and they talked about the thrills they sought, some talked of the ultimate thrill. To kill someone. The discussion ranged about ways to do it, but Gabriel thought they missed the point. Methods were endless, but what was the motive? Just like crime there had to be a rationale behind it all. He could probably kill her now, she was a stranger, a nobody. A waitress from some diner he happened to change into. To know her. Could he do it then? Hypothetically yes, he thought, unsure as he was. I'll be honest, the whole idea intrigues me. Its odd to be true, but I've seen and heard worse, probably, he added silently. To know me is the real question though, how well do you think you have to know me? A day, a week, a lifetime? You can stand next to a person every day on the bus, chat about the game last night, or the latest tv show and now know them. Married couples who lie next to each night, lying in each others arms, don't always know the whispers of each others hearts. It's up to you Molly, how well do you think you need to know me before, he paused, the rest of it implied. Turning he saw the carousel, the horses moving up and down, other assorted animals moved on poles. Others stuck fast, simply going round and round. Reaching a hand out to her gestured with his head towards the carousel, the pipe organ music loud from within, the mirrors and lights giving a festive air to it as the gaudy colored animals spun slowly before them. Offering his hand to her, let's ride and talk, its been awhile since I've been on one.