In Laymon's Terms

Troy Taylor

HE FIRST NIGHT HE saw her he knew he had to have her. There was something about her, something unique. Her beauty called to his attention through the crowded nightclub floor. She was stunning.

He spent the night watching her, intrigued by everything about her.

She was different than all the rest.

Usually, anyone would satisfy him. Not that night, however. That night, not one woman in the entire place interested him. Except for her.

There were offers from plenty, drinks or dances. But he didn’t care. He didn’t even answer them. His mind was focused on one thing.

Her.

He wanted to go up to her, but he knew he couldn’t. What would he say? All he could do was just sit there and watch; wait for her to leave.

So he could follow.

He sat on one stool for almost two hours, not taking his eyes off her for a moment, before she finally made her way to the door.

Alone.

He was sure that she would have been with someone, even a girlfriend, but she was completely alone.

Which made things even easier for him.

Usually, if there was a friend or a boyfriend, he would just kill them. Cut a slice right up the middle of their body. One swipe did it almost every time. Then to watch the woman scream, to see the pure terror in her eyes, was an untellable pleasure.

There would be no need for that on this night. He could follow her, all the way back to her place, and quietly make his move.

He didn’t feel the same about her as he did the others. He didn’t want to hurt her at all. He wanted to love her; to have her love him. The others, they just didn’t matter. Hurting them had been fun; killing them even better. But not with this one. This one was special. This one was going to be the one.

He wouldn’t kill her. He wouldn’t even hurt her.

No, this one he would keep.

He had been looking, all these years, for the one he was going to keep. The one he was going to truly treasure. And now he had found her. Tonight was going to be the most magical night of his life. Love had finally found its way to him.

He stood from his stool, throwing down a five-dollar bill to pay for the drink he had ordered, and raced toward the exit, not caring who the hell he was knocking over in the process. He couldn’t let her get away—it would be the end of him.

Just the thought of it was making him feel funny inside. He was sure it was love. He got the same sort of feeling just looking at her; beautiful black hair flowing down her shoulders, a perfect face—something designed by God Himself. And God had sent her down, just for him.

As he neared the door, he knocked into some blonde-haired college idiot. He tried to keep walking, but the guy grabbed him by the arm and turned him around.

“What the fuck...” the college kid started.

He just didn’t have time for this. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the switchblade knife, flicking out the blade as he did. In one swift movement, the college kid’s insides fell to the floor.

He turned, hearing a mass of screaming behind him and getting a little excited, and raced out the door, hoping that he hadn’t already lost her. He got outside just in time to see her turn the corner into the main street.

Wondering why she had parked so far away from the club, he put on the pace, starting a brisk walk.

She wouldn’t get away. There was no way she could; he was right behind her now.

But she did.

When he turned the corner, she was gone. He felt like crying, but wouldn’t allow it. She was around somewhere—she had to be. She couldn’t have just disappeared.

He had spent three hours searching street after street for her. He didn’t find her in any of them. She was gone for good and the thought that he would never see her again ripped him up inside.

What sort of God would do a thing like that? Dangle love in front of someone, only to snatch it away at the last minute.

He was angry. He had thought, by that stage, that God would know not to make him angry. There were some serious repercussions.

He visited another nightclub later that night and spent a little time trying to pick out his next victim. There were two girls he was trying to choose from. One of them had been dancing by herself up on a podium to his left the whole night. She hadn’t spoken to anyone at all and Robert figured that she was probably on drugs, which helped him out. She seemed pretty, but it could have been the bad lighting. Her hair reached half way down her back and seemed to be a light brown with small streaks of red. She wore a skimpy white top that showed her belly button, but was cut low enough at the top for him to see her tight cleavage. Her pants were tight blue jeans with an oversized black belt and a big silver buckle. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at her ass. She seemed like quite a party girl.

The other girl was much different. She was a lot more reserved, and actually seemed a little out of place in a nightclub like this one. She had short blonde hair down to her shoulders and she wore a skirt that came down just below her knees. She had a light blue shirt top on with the top two buttons open, just enough to show the top of her breasts if you were looking on the right angle. She had been sitting at the end of the bar all night, sipping on a strawberry daiquiri. She, like the other one, hadn’t spoken to anyone at all. She looked around at the crowd a lot and had positioned herself so she was facing the door. Robert guessed she was waiting for someone.

She had a beautiful face with nice blue eyes, hidden only slightly behind her thin-framed glasses. She seemed innocent and Robert loved that.

He looked back at the podium girl, then to the bar girl again.

He thought about it for a few minutes, then he decided to go for the bar girl. If it didn’t work out or something went wrong, he could always come back for the podium girl. She looked like she was going to be up there all night.

Taking his beer in hand he stood from his seat and made his way over to the girl, trying to squeeze his way through all of the people. By the time he actually reached her he felt like he could have killed someone. Everyone seemed to be in his way, and no one heard him when he asked them to move. A few times he had thought about pulling out his knife, but he resisted the temptation.

As he stepped up to her she looked a little weary, but she smiled all the same. Robert smiled back at her. He could be quite attractive when he wanted to, and now he really wanted to.

He sat on the seat next to her.

“Hi, how are you?” he asked, putting on all his charm.

“Good.” She smiled.

“Can I get you a drink?”

She looked down at her three-quarter full daiquiri then looked back at him.

“I’m fine thanks.”

“Ok. I’m Patrick by the way.” Robert said, holding out his hand.

“Jenny.” She replied, shaking it lightly.

Robert felt a stir in his pants at the touch of her skin.

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “Are you waiting for someone?”

Jenny glanced at her watch and grimaced.

“Not anymore. I was supposed to meet someone here an hour ago, but they didn’t show.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“Something like that,” she told him, taking another sip of her daiquiri.

“He’s missing out, that’s for sure. Leaving a special gal like you sitting alone at a bar.”

That one always got them.

Jenny looked at him and smiled a little. Robert could tell that she was cracking. She was starting to like him, which meant she was starting to trust him.

“You wanna get out of here?” she asked, surprising Robert.

“I’d love to.”

Robert opened the door and walked into his apartment, Jenny in tow. They had been to a burger place just down the street, where they had gotten to know each other a little better. Robert had learned that Jenny was eighteen, just out of high school. She hadn’t started college yet but was preparing for her course, which started in about a month. She was going to be studying forensic science, which Robert found very interesting. One day, if she had never run into Robert, this girl would have been working with the cops, probably trying to catch him.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” Jenny said, taking a seat on the couch.

“Thanks,” Robert replied, knowing full well that she was lying.

His apartment looked like a dump. There were bottles and pizza boxes everywhere and the dishes hadn’t been done in about three weeks. He had never seen the point, seeing as he hardly even used them. If he wanted a plate, he would just wash it. If he wanted a knife or fork he’d just do without.

He led Jenny into the lounge and told her to have a seat. She smiled at him, such a sweet and innocent smile, and he returned it.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“Right back,” he said, turning and heading for the kitchen.

He had to find the right instrument. He needed to silence her, at least until he got her hooked up to the bed, but he didn’t want to damage her yet. Well, not where he could see anyway. She was too good-looking for that.

He searched through the drawers and on the bench until he came across a rolling pin. It seemed perfect.

He grinned at his discovery and headed back into the lounge, creeping silently with the rolling pin behind his back in case Jenny decided to turn around.

She didn’t seem to even notice him until he was right behind her. She must have got that feeling that you always get, when you know someone is looking at you. She turned to face him just as he was bringing the rolling pin down. It hit her on the side of the head instead of the back. She passed out instantly.

Robert grinned as he picked her up under the armpits and started dragging her into the bedroom. She was awfully heavy for someone who looked so slim.

As he laid her on the bed he started to worry that he may have hit her too hard on the head. Maybe, since he hit her right on the temple instead of the back, she was already dead. The thought pissed him off and made him want to rip her up right then, but he held back his anger. He could wait a little while for her to wake.

He rolled her over so she was lying on her back. At the head of the bed he took the leather cuffs that were hooked to the headboard and cuffed her wrists, then proceeded to do her ankles.

Now, she was lying spread-eagled on the bed.

He took a step back and admired the look of her lying there, looking so at peace. That wouldn’t last for long.

Robert reached into his pocket, pulled out his switchblade and flicked the blade up. This was one of the fun parts. He slid the blade under the waistband of her skirt and brought it down, cutting a slit straight down the front. Giving a tug, it slipped out from underneath her. Her panties were a plain light pink color. From the way they went down the back he could tell that she was wearing a thong. All of a sudden he got an urge to flip her over and cursed himself for cuffing her too soon.

It was too late now.

He slid the blade under the waistband of her panties and removed them too. That was too bad, because they looked expensive.

He removed the rest of her clothes with his knife and then started taking off her rings and bracelets. There was a small silver anklet around her left ankle that he left on. He wasn’t really sure why, but the look of it made him hard.

He stared at her for a while, admiring her nakedness. She looked good. Better than good. Her breasts were perfectly rounded. Between her legs, there was a thin, light thatch of golden hair.

“So you are a real blond,” he said to himself and laughed.

He sat on the bed next to her and looked up. She looked fantastic in the mirrors that lined the ceiling. He couldn’t wait to be on top of her, doing things as he watched in the mirrors. It was going to be fun.

He took Jenny’s thong from the ground and stuffed it into her mouth, letting out a grunt of laughter as he did, and then stuck a small strip of duct tape over her mouth.

“That oughta hold you for a while,” he said as he lay down next to her and closed his eyes.

In his mind he started to imagine what he was going to do to Jenny when she woke. He was on top of her, feeling himself slide in and out of her hugging warmth and squeezing her breasts with his hands. He pushed himself deeper and deeper inside of her, until he felt like he was going to explode. He looked up to the mirrors and saw that it wasn’t Jenny anymore. It was the girl he had first seen at the bar. His gift from God; his keepsake. She was underneath him, naked and groaning as he slammed into her. She wasn’t cuffed to the bed anymore. Now, her hands were clutching his butt cheeks, trying to pull him in even deeper.

Her eyelids slowly opened, except there was something wrong. Her eye sockets looked completely dark and Robert realized that she didn’t have any eyes. Suddenly, her hand shot up and grabbed his head, pulling his mouth down to meet the empty black hole.

Robert screamed and opened his eyes.

He was covered in sweat. The room seemed to be a lot darker than it had been when he had closed his eyes. Wiping the sweat off his forehead he turned and saw that Jenny was awake. Her eyes were wide with fear and it was obvious that she had been crying. He stared at her for a moment before grinning.

“Hi,” he said. “Ready for the fun to start?”

A tear rolled out of her eye as he leaned forward and slid his tongue around the duct tape on her mouth.

The second time he saw her, he was having coffee in one of the ritzy coffee bars on Sunset. She was there when he arrived, sitting in a corner, sipping her coffee slowly, looking at nothing in particular. He felt that feeling again when he spotted her. A cross between nauseousness and ecstasy. Like there were hundreds of little butterflies, fluttering around in his stomach.

He wouldn’t let her go this time. He would stay right behind her until she got home.

Nothing was going to get in his way.

He watched her as she slowly sipped her coffee. He didn’t take his eyes off her. His own coffee sat in front of him, getting cold. He couldn’t drink it. He couldn’t do a thing but sit in awe and amazement of the girl. When a waitress came along and asked if he wanted another coffee he just gave her a look. The same sort of look a lion must give its prey just before devouring it. She knew what the look meant and didn’t say another word as she turned and walked off.

When he looked back to where the girl was sitting, she was gone. He turned his head toward the door just fast enough to see her black hair flail in the wind as the door closed behind her.

His stomach clenched up.

“Fuck!” he screamed as he jumped from his seat, only half aware that every single set of eyes in the shop were on him, and raced for the door.

This was not supposed to happen. This time he was not supposed to take his eyes off her for a minute. He had broken his own main rule.

Outside, the streets were empty. Rain poured from the skies as if God felt his pain and cried tears for him. He ran, as fast as he could, looking down every alley, any way she may have gone.

She was nowhere.

Once again, he had lost her. The pain inside him was unbearable.

At home, things seemed bleak and dreary. He didn’t even feel like going out and finding more women. All he wanted to do was sit at home and sulk. Cry about opportunities lost. He sat in the rocking chair in his lounge room, closing his eyes and trying to picture her face, trying to capture her true beauty in his mind. Nothing he could see came anywhere close. Even his imagination couldn’t compare to her. She was one of a kind. Something special.

And he had lost her.

He was in bed that night, still trying to come up with a picture of her in his head, when the doorbell rang. A jolt ran through his body as he wondered if this was it—if he had finally been caught. He thought about climbing out the window and down the fire escape, but he just couldn’t be bothered. He had lost the only thing that had ever mattered to him that day, for the second time, and he was just tired. They could take him in if they wanted to. He would find a way to escape.

He had before.

Climbing out of bed he reached for his shirt, then decided against it.

Let them find me naked, he thought, letting out a laugh.

He walked over to the door and took one last look around his apartment before unlatching and opening it.

It wasn’t the police, as he had thought.

It was her.

Standing there in all her beauty. In his hallway. His keepsake.

She said nothing. She just looked at him, her mouth perfectly straight. Her eyes glowed. They had a depth to them that just sucked him right in.

He stared at her, unsure of what to do or say.

The moment he had been waiting for had arrived. And she had come to him.

He didn’t even think about how it had happened. He didn’t even care. All that mattered was that she was standing right in front of him, staring into his eyes.

She stepped inside, still not saying a word, and grabbed his hand. She led him to the bedroom, taking all the right turns as if she had lived in the apartment for years.

He felt the excitement well up inside him as she pushed him onto the bed. He suddenly felt a little strange, realizing that he was naked, but she acted as if she hadn’t even noticed.

“Hello, Robert,” she said to him.

“Hi,” he managed.

She reached up to her top and unbuttoned it, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts were more perfect than he ever could have imagined. They seemed so full and round, the nipples jutting straight up in perfect symmetry.

Her hand lowered to her skirt and popped the buttons open, one by one as if to torture Robert. Soon, the skirt joined her top on the floor.

She stood completely naked in front of him and smiled. Her body was the image of perfection. Nothing could ever top this for him. Nothing could ever be as perfect.

She climbed onto the bed and strapped his wrists with the leather cuffs. He gave her a grin and she winked before cuffing his ankles.

“Now you’re not going anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t want to,” Robert said, his throat feeling a little dry.

He closed his eyes as she started to kiss his chest. Groaning, he squirmed under her, wishing that she would just move down a little. As if she could read his mind, she stopped kissing him and went straight for his hard penis. She took him into her mouth and began rhythmically pumping. It was the most amazing thing he had ever felt. She ran her tongue across his head and he started to feel himself building. He let out a loud groan as he felt it slowly creep up his shaft. He opened his eyes, just as he released himself into her mouth, and looked at the mirrors.

His penis softened straightaway. All of the pleasure disappeared in that same instant and all he felt was fear. He could still feel her mouth on him, but he couldn’t see her. She wasn’t in the mirror. All he could see was his own naked body sprawled out on the bed. He lifted his head and looked down at her. She had finished on his penis and started kissing her way back up to his face.

“Do you like a girl who swallows, Robert?”

He couldn’t answer her. He couldn’t speak at all. All he did was stare at her, trying to understand what the hell was going on. Why the hell couldn’t he see her in the mirror?

“I swallow. Wanna see?” she said, grinning.

Robert noticed something he hadn’t seen before. Something more unsettling than anything he had ever seen before. Something that seemed too out of place for her innocent beauty.

Her teeth.

Two at either side of her mouth. Long, sharp, and pointy.

“What the fuck?” he asked, trying to shake her off. She wouldn’t budge, even when he put all his strength into it. She didn’t move an inch.

“Don’t you want me to swallow you, Robert?” She laughed as she lowered her mouth to his neck.

He screamed in pain as her teeth ripped into his flesh and penetrated his jugular. All he could do was watch as his blood squirted intermittently into her mouth.

She lifted her teeth away from his neck and let him get one last look at her beautiful face. The last thing he heard before everything went black scared him more than anything ever had. She spoke to him, whispered in his ear, in a voice that was so fitting to her beauty.

“You were wrong, Robert, I’m not from heaven. I’m from hell.”