Read Badlands Trilogy (Book 3): Out of the Badlands for Free Online
Authors: Brian J. Jarrett
Tags: Zombies
lure on a fishing line, he enticed them, brought them in closer.
Then he’d set the hook.
Lester liked knives. They were personal, like extensions of his hands. Like surgical instruments. In medical school his professors always wondered why he didn’t become a surgeon. While Lester had enjoyed the cutting, he preferred the mind fucking even more, professionally at least.
Besides, he had plenty of free time to practice with his knives.
Lester particularly enjoyed the look in their eyes, once he’d hung them upside down from a sturdy hook mounted in the ceiling of his extra apartment. With his credentials and access, getting the drugs to put them under was easy. Once unconscious, he’d strip them naked and duct tape their mouth. Then he’d sit and watch them while they slept, cock hard and heart pounding. One hand on the tool between his legs, the other on his knife, his most favorite tool.
He’d wait until their eyes fluttered and opened slowly. The look of confusion on their face was delicious. But he lived for that one moment more than any other: that look in their eyes when they realized they were going to die. Some cried. Some yelled, their shouts muffled by the tape. Some begged. All did it with their eyes. It was said the eyes were the windows to the soul and Lester wholeheartedly agreed.
Once reality registered, once their eyes revealed acceptance of their fate and Lester’s total control over them, Lester got to work. A carefully placed slit would start the flow. Then he’d string them up, naked himself, and the blood really got to flowing. He’d pleasure himself, timing his climax just as the light went out in their eyes.
Divine.
That level of intimacy, something that could only be shared once between the same two people, needed to be complete and total. Once he’d taken a woman’s life, she belonged to him. It was then that Lester felt something akin to love. And he could never throw out something he loved like yesterday’s trash. He’d never consider dumping the body or burying it in the woods somewhere. No, an intimacy such as this required total dedication.
With his climax complete and the bond cemented, Lester began lovingly carving flesh from bone.
Once complete, it would take him six months to eat the meat. He enjoyed every delicious bite, reliving the murder in his mind as he chewed the delicate muscle.
Lester had always been careful. He’d always been smart. No one ever suspected anything. Only once had he been compromised. An ex-boyfriend tracked him down, tipped off after Lester and the woman had been spotted at a bar together. Lester, the master manipulator, allayed the man’s fears and sent him in a completely different direction. He watched the man for three months, ensuring the pest didn’t get any closer than he already had. Loosening a natural gas line valve and swapping out dead batteries in the man’s carbon monoxide detector ensured that Lester’s loose ends had all been tied up. Collateral damage was sometimes unavoidable.
He’d found over the years that one of the most effective hiding techniques was to never draw suspicion. The more others viewed him as unassuming, weak and harmless the more latitude they gave him to operate. Like being invisible. Lester played the part willingly enough; he never cared once what anyone actually thought of him or who he truly was. That he only revealed at the end, once they saw his knife and saw the look in his eye. By the time they realized they’d misjudged him it was too late.
But now, at the end of civilization, Lester didn’t have to be careful anymore. There were no police, no nosey boyfriends, no ex-husbands, nobody asking any questions. No law, no order. No consequences.
And Lester had himself a field day with the raw thrill of the kill.
Now, years after the virus erased civilization from the planet, he’d killed eighty-seven people. And counting.
Always counting.
But eventually he began to miss the courtship, the
Then he’d set the hook.
Lester liked knives. They were personal, like extensions of his hands. Like surgical instruments. In medical school his professors always wondered why he didn’t become a surgeon. While Lester had enjoyed the cutting, he preferred the mind fucking even more, professionally at least.
Besides, he had plenty of free time to practice with his knives.
Lester particularly enjoyed the look in their eyes, once he’d hung them upside down from a sturdy hook mounted in the ceiling of his extra apartment. With his credentials and access, getting the drugs to put them under was easy. Once unconscious, he’d strip them naked and duct tape their mouth. Then he’d sit and watch them while they slept, cock hard and heart pounding. One hand on the tool between his legs, the other on his knife, his most favorite tool.
He’d wait until their eyes fluttered and opened slowly. The look of confusion on their face was delicious. But he lived for that one moment more than any other: that look in their eyes when they realized they were going to die. Some cried. Some yelled, their shouts muffled by the tape. Some begged. All did it with their eyes. It was said the eyes were the windows to the soul and Lester wholeheartedly agreed.
Once reality registered, once their eyes revealed acceptance of their fate and Lester’s total control over them, Lester got to work. A carefully placed slit would start the flow. Then he’d string them up, naked himself, and the blood really got to flowing. He’d pleasure himself, timing his climax just as the light went out in their eyes.
Divine.
That level of intimacy, something that could only be shared once between the same two people, needed to be complete and total. Once he’d taken a woman’s life, she belonged to him. It was then that Lester felt something akin to love. And he could never throw out something he loved like yesterday’s trash. He’d never consider dumping the body or burying it in the woods somewhere. No, an intimacy such as this required total dedication.
With his climax complete and the bond cemented, Lester began lovingly carving flesh from bone.
Once complete, it would take him six months to eat the meat. He enjoyed every delicious bite, reliving the murder in his mind as he chewed the delicate muscle.
Lester had always been careful. He’d always been smart. No one ever suspected anything. Only once had he been compromised. An ex-boyfriend tracked him down, tipped off after Lester and the woman had been spotted at a bar together. Lester, the master manipulator, allayed the man’s fears and sent him in a completely different direction. He watched the man for three months, ensuring the pest didn’t get any closer than he already had. Loosening a natural gas line valve and swapping out dead batteries in the man’s carbon monoxide detector ensured that Lester’s loose ends had all been tied up. Collateral damage was sometimes unavoidable.
He’d found over the years that one of the most effective hiding techniques was to never draw suspicion. The more others viewed him as unassuming, weak and harmless the more latitude they gave him to operate. Like being invisible. Lester played the part willingly enough; he never cared once what anyone actually thought of him or who he truly was. That he only revealed at the end, once they saw his knife and saw the look in his eye. By the time they realized they’d misjudged him it was too late.
But now, at the end of civilization, Lester didn’t have to be careful anymore. There were no police, no nosey boyfriends, no ex-husbands, nobody asking any questions. No law, no order. No consequences.
And Lester had himself a field day with the raw thrill of the kill.
Now, years after the virus erased civilization from the planet, he’d killed eighty-seven people. And counting.
Always counting.
But eventually he began to miss the courtship, the