Tyler Mason was an ordinary nineteen year old in almost every way. Standing six foot tall, supporting a heavily muscled frame, with a shock of black hair and bright blue eyes, you wouldn’t pick him from a crowd. But there was one very important thing that differentiated Tyler from those around him. He loved to kill.
Killing brought him a thrill like no other. Watching his victims squirm as they bled, listening to their futile pleas for mercy. He loved the exhilaration it generated. His biggest high came in the moment he took their lives. He savoured those moments, usually sealing them with a kiss; the majority of his victims were female.
Tyler glanced around himself as he waited at the bus stop. Seated to his right was a woman, mid to late twenties with long brown hair. Tempting, but not as tempting as the blonde bombshell standing just in front of him. At a guess, Tyler would say she was eighteen or nineteen. Her slim figure was particularly arousing to the monster hidden within. It wanted to come out and play with her. And Tyler wanted to allow it.
When the bus arrived, she got on, and he followed. As she chatted to the driver, he took her purse from her bag. He paid his fare and looked down the bus to where she had sat. He walked over to her.
“Excuse me, miss, you dropped this at the bus stop”.
He held the purse out to her.
“Oh my god! Thank you!”
“My pleasure”. He sat onto the seat beside her. For the next while, they sat and talked, exchanging stories and details from their lives. When she rose to leave the bus, she invited Tyler to join her for a drink, as repayment for finding her purse. He graciously accepted.
The woman let Tyler and herself into her house, inviting him across the threshold. A terrible mistake. Before she knew it, he had a knife at her throat. She struggled, cutting her own neck in the process. Tyler sighed in disappointment. She had robbed him of the pleasure brought from drawing it out. It had finished much too quickly. The beast inside him was not satisfied. It needed more.