An Honest Murderer

Hate can turn the greatest people into the worst. Power corrupts.
'Hate will guide you' does contain, and will contain, some disturbing content. I won't cover it in the description, but if you are sensitive or have experienced abuse, I don't advise you to read this.
Christine is a victim who in turn, makes others her own victims as result.

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4. A Friends Word

 

 

"You can't be a local - I don't miss one pretty face 'round here!" Alan laughed, trying it on with yet another chick, and the woman he spoke to merely shrugged. 
"I mustn't be a pretty face, then." She said nonchalantly, continuing to sip her drink. Wow. Never seen a bird turn down ol' Alan, even if he was too drunk to tell himself not to stare at a woman's chest. He wasn't nothin' special. 'Has the charm', the chicks would tell us. Charm? Hah. Besides, I wasn't jealous. I wasn't the jealous type. Nope. Me? No. Not at all. Nope. Maybe a little.
Well, this would be interesting. My good ol' pal needed his ego deflated.
"Haha. How did you manage to pay for that yourself?" He gestured to the girls drink. Smooth. Very smooth. Standing at the bar only few meters away, I was in ear shot of their conversation. But hearing Alan's cheesy pick up lines, it was anywhere but where I wanted to be.
"So I'm ugly, and poor?" The girl asked, amused. Okay, I was definitely staying to hear this.
I slyly turned my head to look at Alan, who widened his eyes at me. I stifled a laugh, refusing to look at him any longer. It was too damn hilarious. Finally a chick who doesn't fall for this prat!
Alan's voice sounded too forced - he didn't want to be there. I wouldn't blame him. "No, no, of course not. I meant - well, you know what I meant. Just... Well, my friend over there you see, he hasn't been getting any action for a good, well, lets say... His entire life? And he's had an eye on you this whole night. Just thought I'd come over and put a word in for him."
Without realising, I had turned back to face the two. Before I could point a rude gesture towards Alan, the girl had turned to look at me, also. I hadn't really noticed her before, but heck she was a looker. She had overly thick brows that somehow suited her, short black curly hair and and pretty smile. She wore a low cut dress and a short skirt. Even sitting down, I could tell she had a cracking body. Maybe I should thank Alan.
"Put a word in? I don't even know his name." She dismissed.
"Martin. You'll be screaming it soon! Yours?" I called out, allowing the consumed alcohol make me over-confident. The bird raised her eyebrows.
"Christine. And judging by what your friend has told me, we won't be getting further than names." She said, and I could tell she was holding back a smile. Well, thats what I told myself. You know, I'd have to get Alan back for that another time. Christine hopped off her stool, pushing past Alan, who was still getting over knocked back. He mouthed 'good luck' to me. Why not? I followed her.
"Whys that? Not prepared for this bad boy?" I called out, and Christine turned around. She smiled. It was a different smile than before. It was... Spooky. I dunno. Maybe she was playing about.
"A bad girl always needs their bad boys." She laughed, extending her hand out to me. What the hell? Did she have some personality disorder? Heck, I'd take the opportunity no matter what condition she had. I took it, and pulled her towards me. Her eyes widened, as Alan's had earlier, with alarm.
"None of that. I'm the one in control tonight."
I hadn't expected this. What girl liked to be in control? I didn't exactly have the experience to say. Well, this night was getting better. "Sure thing, girl."
She clenched her jaw as I said that. Christ, she wanted this, didn't she? I smirked, turning to Alan, who - for some reason - looked troubled. Hows it feel to be the envious rather than the envied, eh? 
Christine lead me through the doors of the pub with a fast pace, clearly eager for a bit of Martin. I could already see this was going to be a good night.

 


"I distributed his body parts in various locations, and obviously did a good job of it." She snorted. "Martin... Adams? Yes, that was it. It was written on his license. Well, tell his family. And tell them the screams stopped in the first few minutes, will you?"

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