"Do you want to carve a dick and balls into his skin?" Leif suggested.
"No," I said slowly.
Forrest regarded me before pulling out the knife and opening it again. He handed it to me. "Whatever you think you need to do."
"Do it quickly," Woody snapped.
I took the knife and stepped over to Bob. I didn't know what I needed to do. I just needed to do something.
"I suggest you don't carve your initials," Leif said. "That would be a dead giveaway if anyone found him before we dispose of him."
I nodded. "Good advice."
I crouched down beside the body, my hand shaking. I pressed the tip of the knife against his forehead. Blood beaded around the blade. The pulse in my pussy jumped.
Carefully, I carved the outline of a skull in Bob's forehead, added a couple of crosses for eyes. I nodded to myself and rose, taking a moment to wipe the blade clean again.
"Very artistic," Leif said approvingly. "I'll try to save that section for you."
I had no answer for that. I handed the knife back to Forrest.
He and Woody were both looking at me with unreadable expressions, neither judging, but somehow approving at the same time. I would have thought Woody would have curled his lip at me, but he didn't. Of course, he was here too. Taking part in killing and getting enjoyment out of it.
"We should leave," I whispered. I was so turned on I might combust, and I couldn't even bring myself to care.
If I was fucked up, I was at least as fucked up as these three men. None of them could pretend they didn't get off on this too. Each had a tent in the front of his pants, darkness in their eyes. Aroused by the power of ending the life of someone who didn't deserve to keep breathing.
A power that was dangerous because it could go to all of our heads. It could eat us alive.
Somehow I was going to have to cling on to my humanity. Assuming I had any left, that was. After all, I'd just mutilated a corpse. That wasn't normal behavior by any stretch of the imagination. At least, not as far as I knew.
To be fair, I didn't know people like Forrest and Leif existed until now. I might be more normal than I knew. I wasn't sure what to do with that. I put it on the long list of things to think about later. Tonight I'd focus on the last few minutes and the next couple of hours.
I didn't know when I decided I was going to continue doing this with them, but I had. Iwantedto do this again. Next time, I wanted to be the one to draw the blade across the monster'sthroat. I wanted to feel their last breath on my cheek, on my lips, under my fingertips.
I wanted to stand close to them and watch the light fade from their eyes. I wanted them to know exactly who ended their existence.
Me. Sable Kohl. Survivor. Accomplice. Carver of skin.
"Let's go and get something to eat," Forrest said, as if nothing unusual happened tonight. "There's an Mongolian place down the street. I think you'll like it."
"I could eat," Leif said, tossing the apple core into the trash. "This shit makes me hungry too."
I gave Bob a long, last look before I nodded and let Forrest take my hand. Together we stepped out of the apartment, my heels clicking on the floor.
Leif and Woody followed close behind, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
CHAPTER 23
SABLE
"That was so good." I rubbed my stomach, full from the meal.
Everything was cooked so perfectly. Not heavy on the spices, but subtle and delicate instead. Just what I needed.
Once I stepped away from Bob's apartment, reality started to crash in on me a little bit. The implications of what we'd done. Anything too heavy or too spicy would have spoiled in my belly and made me sick.
"Forest always knows the best places to eat," Leif said.
