He knew then that he was going to do the same thing to this child as he had done to his daughter. This child had not a worry in the world.

If only she could have known that the owner of the hand touching the small head had such devious intentions.

A feeling of deja-vu crept into Randy's mind the day Kendra Clouse and baby Amanda Clouse moved into his house. Things had taken a turn for the worse for the factory. Employees had started getting laid off one by one until the factory closed down. Some would say it was because of the economy and financial disaster that was taking the country by storm. The truth was simple and stupid. The owner of Mellow Products, Devlin Mellow, had been caught with a prost.i.tute by his wife, and in a jealous rage she had shot him in the head. Both him and the prost.i.tute. She went to prison and Mellow Products was shut down.

Without a job, Kendra had been unable to pay the rent on her small apartment and within a month of losing her job she had lost her home. It was Randy's idea for her to move in with him. So she did, hesitantly at first, but eventually he was able to talk her into it.

The first night together was wonderful. They had placed Amanda in a room all to herself. She was asleep in the white crib that had lovingly been built by Randy himself. The two of them sat together in the bedroom at the head of the bed. The conversation started about getting a job but it wound up with them making love. The next morning, Randy was in the kitchen cooking breakfast when Kendra walked in behind him, holding Amanda. She sat at the marble table in the middle of the kitchen and looked at Randy who was smoking a cigarette.

"Want some coffee and eggs?" he asked casually.

"What I want is for you to put out that cigarette. We have to keep this place clean. It's not fit for a young child to breathe in that second hand smoke."

Randy turned back to the stove and snubbed out his cigarette thinking, that b.i.t.c.h. He dropped the b.u.t.t into a nearby ashtray, grabbed up a plate and scooped a spoon of scrambled eggs onto it. He set it on the table in front of her and grabbed a mug, filling it with coffee to then set it next to her plate.

He smiled at her. "I'll fix this place up real nice. Just you wait and see."

She smiled back and asked him to hold Amanda. He gladly took her and looked into the infant's eyes.

I'm not going through this bulls.h.i.t again. I'll find someone else, he thought to himself as he felt rage fill him up like living a beast wanting to break free of its bonds.

Beside him, Kendra was drinking her coffee and eating her eggs.

"Did you tell anyone you were moving in with me?" he asked her.

She stopped eating and looked at Randy. "Who am I gonna tell? My parents have been dead for years and I don't have any friends worth mentioning it to. I don't even have any employees anymore. All I have is you and her. So who would I tell?"

"Just curious," he said with a smile. "You remember the hospital?"

"What about it?"

"Do you remember the other night on the news how it said that some receptionist had been missing for several days?"

"Yeah."

"They blamed the boyfriend; even found some of her blood in his car but never found her body."

"Yes, Randy, he's in jail awaiting trial now. It was just enough blood to arrest him on murder. Why?"

He looked deep into her eyes and glared with a smirk on his face. "What if I told you that I killed that girl while you were in labor?"

"What?" she gasped, "What if I told you that I killed my mother and her husband? How about if I told you I had a wife and daughter but I killed them, too?"

"Randy, what the f.u.c.k are you..."

"And what if I told you that I killed your chubby little niece? And that my brother killed your sister."

Kendra's eyes went wide and the next gasp of air froze in her throat, her chest feeling like someone had slammed their foot into it. Randy watched her, seeing she looked as if she'd just been stabbed in the heart with an ice pick.

Her face crunched up in equal measures of terror and hate. She started to get to her feet but found she couldn't, her legs wouldn't work. She couldn't breathe, she was choking. She fell out of her chair and onto the floor; her body convulsing, her eyes wide with fear.

Randy, still clutching the baby, kneeled next to her and rubbed her forehead with his free hand.

"I thought I'd poison your eggs and coffee. The poison only works when taken together so you had to eat and drink both for it to work. I found it the other day at the dog pound when I went to rape and murder the girl that worked there. You should have seen it. I fed her body to the caged animals inside. I've never seen anything like it." He shook his head sadly. "They should really feed those animals better."

She managed to choke out one word. "Why?"

"Because I've realized how much I like that lifestyle. It's fun. I enjoyed killing all those women and children; I just never wanted to accept it for what it was. For what I truly am." He turned slightly and looked to the oven across the kitchen. "You know, I wonder what would happen to poor Amanda if I put her in the oven and turned it on."

She tried to move, tried to reach out and somehow save her baby but the poison wouldn't let her. With a final breath she said her daughter's name then her hand fell limp to the floor as her eyes watered over and she breathed no more.

Blood and white bile ran out of her parted lips and onto the floor.

Randy watched silently while holding the baby.

"d.a.m.n, b.i.t.c.h, now I have to clean that up." He glanced down at the sleeping baby huddled in his arms and sighed. "Oh, well, might as well finish everything while I feel so good. I'm not going through any more pain."

He stood up and crossed to the stove, opened it as if he was sliding in a cake, and placed the baby who was now crying on the bottom rack. He closed the door and turned the oven on to 450 degrees, whistling while he did this.

Then he sat at the table and lit himself another cigarette. He sat so he could watch the oven. Staring at the gla.s.s door to the oven and smoking his cigarette, he smiled to himself, proud of what he was doing.

Behind the gla.s.s, the baby was hysterically crying. He could see the heat rising as the heating elements slowly raised the oven to the proper temperature. The steam crept out of the vents at the top as if he was roasting a chicken. He stood for a second, only long enough to open a few windows.

He put a small fan in the kitchen window to ensure that the smoke would flow outside. He may have been enjoying himself but he didn't want to smell the stink of cooking baby. He opened the oven door and sat back in his chair at the table. The baby wasn't crying anymore; instead the baby was on fire.

The skin was melting away, the pink muscle and tissue bubbling away into nothing, leaving burnt bone exposed. He put out his cigarette and got back up. Even though the windows were open and some of the smoke was rolling outside, some of the smoke stayed within the house. It was filling the room with the smell of burning flesh and bone, reminding him of burnt pork mixed with the burning material of the blanket.

Quite a powerful smell indeed. He turned the oven off, grabbed a jug and filled it with water. He dumped the water inside of the oven over the heap of crackling flames. The flames died and smoke billowed around the charred corpse.

Using an oven mitt, he picked up the remains. He could still feel the heat from the small body. Well, it was no longer a body but instead it was a heap of tiny bones and a few remaining pieces of charred flesh and tissue.

He carried the remains into the bas.e.m.e.nt and dropped it to the floor like it was nothing more than a pile of dirty laundry. Then he went back upstairs to retrieve the other body. When he got back upstairs and into the kitchen, he realized just how h.o.r.n.y the deaths had made him. Looking down at Kendra's corpse, he felt himself with his hand. He caught himself and realized he needed to focus, so he stopped groping himself, picked up Kendra, and carried the corpse downstairs. He dropped her to the floor and left the bas.e.m.e.nt, locking the door behind him.

He wanted to f.u.c.k so bad it hurt, but he didn't want Kendra.

So he left the house and headed out in search of his next victim, smiling to himself the entire way.

Chapter 6.

Randy had lied to Kendra about the girl at the dog pound.

But he had been watching her, however, for several months. Ever since the day he caught a stray dog in his yard. The dog was a small tan one. It looked like a mutt, something mixed with several other dogs, its head larger than the rest of its body. The dog's snout protruded outwards towards the ground like a rejected muppet of some sort. He remembered calling the dog *Gonzo's brother' and laughing about it. He had no intention to hurt the dog and it seemed to have no intention on hurting him. The dog just calmly wobbled over to Randy's feet and sagged its head, wanting attention.

Its tail was short and stubby, and when Randy placed a hand on its head, the tail wagged frantically in circles. He put the dog in the car and drove it over to the pound as he had no intention of keeping the animal. He had never wanted a dog or any other kind of creature. In fact, Randy hated dogs and all other animals. To him they were pointless.

Still, he didn't want to kill the thing, he just didn't want it around him anymore. So he carried the dog over to the dog pound. The pound wasn't very far away, just a left turn then an immediate right and he was there. The pound was located on a piece of land all its own with a chain link fence that twirled around the land. When he exited the car, he immediately smelled the stench of several different types of animals. It reminded him of a zoo. With the small dog no bigger than his forearm, he walked through the front door. The clerk at the desk looked up at him and smiled. The clerk was this skinny little man with a Twinkie in his hand and he had small round gla.s.ses that covered his eyes. He looked like the type of guy who watched one to many TV shows and would never get laid unless he paid for it. He had rosy cheeks and pimples covered the sides of his face. Randy walked over to the man and smiled back at him while holding up the dog.

"This dog was in my yard and I don't want it around."

"Do you have any neighbors?" the man asked.

"No, I don't think anyone around me has a dog."

"Well...okay then. Could you just fill this form out please while I go get Nancy?"

The man pushed a clipboard across the desk to Randy who set the dog down on the floor next to him and grabbed the clipboard. The dog sat at his heels and panted loudly. Randy looked down, wanting to kick it but he pushed the urge away and sat in a nearby chair. He quickly filled the form out, and when he was finished, a woman came out. This was Nancy, the girl who worked at the pound.

He remembered that day fondly as he now headed to the dog pound, thinking of Nancy, the girl he so eagerly wanted right now at ten in the morning on a Sat.u.r.day.

He only hoped she was working alone today. If not, it was still okay as he'd followed her home already on a previous day and knew where she lived.

Nancy was so flawed, but oh so sweet that he immediately wanted her. She wore thin gla.s.ses over a sharp, freckled nose. Her red hair was shoulder length and it curled in at the ends. Her body wasn't slim but it wasn't pudgy either; there was just enough meat to grab onto. Her eyes were nothing special; in fact they had a dullness to them. It intrigued Randy to look upon someone so imperfect yet still see her as s.e.xy at the same time. Her work suit was something a plumber might wear. It was obvious she was an animal catcher.

He smiled when he thought about how when she had extended her arm and took the clipboard from his hands that day he'd brought the dog to the pound, how he had wanted to grab her right then and have his way with her, but hadn't. He was patient with her. He watched her everyday and every night. Or at least as much as he possibly could. She was just a normal girl. She ate fast-food for lunch everyday and for dinner she ate at a little waffle diner near the pound. She always got home around six and went to work around eight. The most important factor was the fact that on Sat.u.r.day she was at the pound, alone, from eight to three. It was nearly perfect.

He came up with his plan the night before as he lay in his bed, stroking himself. He would walk casually in through the front with a black hood covering his head and face. If she was in the back, then he would go in too, but if she was in the front, he would immediately attack her. He would rape her, then kill her. He hadn't lied about feeding her body to the animals inside. He just hadn't done it yet. But he would.

And today was perfect. Clouds hid the sun so the day was grey and murky. No rain fell but it wouldn't be too much longer before it started. Only one car sat parked in the parking lot of the pound. The car was a small white four-door Volvo with a dented hood. He slowly pulled into the lot and parked in front of the building. He got out of the car and walked inside the building, pulling the hood over his head as he did so.

She wasn't in the front so she must be in the back. He walked through the swinging metal door at the side of the desk and went into the back room. The room was more of a hallway filled with large cages on both sides. There was a dog or two in each cage. There must have been one hundred cages in the room total, all lining the walls and leading towards another metal door. He walked through the hallway towards the door with the dog cages on each side of him, the animals barking and raising h.e.l.l.

Right as he was near the door, it opened and Nancy walked out. She wore white gloves and held a needle in her hand. She stopped in her tracks, looking straight at Randy, not understanding what he was doing in back where only employees should be.

He pounced at her immediately and knocked her down with a single punch. The needle in her hand dropped to the floor and rolled away. The dogs all around barked even louder than before, as if they sensed what was happening. Randy grinned, enjoying an audience, even if it was just a bunch of dumb mutts.

Watch this, f.u.c.kers, he thought as he put one foot down on top of Nancy's chest. He then raised the foot and brought it back down with all the weight his body could muster, the sole of his shoe slamming into her chest. He heard and felt her ribcage give way as she snapped awake and screamed, coughing up blood. He'd probably broken several of her ribs or maybe more. She was squirming now, trying to get away from him, her face creased in agony but he gave her no chance.

He kicked her over to her stomach and knelt down beside her. She was grasping the concrete floor with the tips of her fingers, trying to crawl away. He laughed at her and grabbed her pants. Pulling her towards him caused several of her fingernails to tear off as she skidded across the floor.

Breathing heavily, he tore open her pants to reveal a pair of white cotton panties beneath. He grabbed the hem of the panties and ripped them off roughly, leaving a trail of red across her b.u.t.tocks. He unzipped himself with one hand while putting his finger deep into her a.s.shole. She yelped out as he fingered her. She was trying to turn back around to face him. He came up to her quickly and pulled out his finger. He had no need to spit as he would get it in there even if he had to bust open the skin around the small brown hole. Surprisingly enough though, his d.i.c.k slipped in easily. She raised her head and started screaming as he pumped himself roughly into her a.n.u.s. He grabbed her by her hair and pulled tightly while unsheathing a sharp pocket knife with the other. He purchased the knife a week ago at a local p.a.w.n shop for just this occasion. He brought the blade down to her face and put it against her forehead. He sliced through the skin easily while pulling on her hair.

She inadvertently helped finish the process by snapping her head back towards the floor. Her scalp ripped off with ease as if he'd just peeled the skin off of a large orange. Blood seeped through the flesh and he could see small splotches of bone peeking out from beneath the red ma.s.s of tissue. She was screaming even louder now, so he threw the scalped hair to the side, the b.l.o.o.d.y wig heading straight for one of the cages. The cage held a good-sized rottweiler and the scalp went perfectly between the bars of the cage. The dog caught it in its mouth and started chewing happily. Randy laughed loudly and placed his hand on the back of Nancy's head as she whimpered, screamed and choked. With a sharp thrust, he smashed her head against the cement under her head.

He continued to f.u.c.k her in the a.s.s, feeling something hot and sticky around the edges of his d.i.c.k. He glanced down and saw blood. She was bleeding profusely; he'd torn something inside her. He laughed even louder now, his face becoming crueler. He slammed her head onto the floor again and again until the cement beneath looked like it was going to crack from the abuse. Her face was now undistinguishable as a human being and no one who knew her would ever be able to tell that this mangled mess of meat had been her.

With his hands full of her warm, sticky blood, and his d.i.c.k deep inside her, surrounded by her warmth, he released himself into her and then withdrew.

He raised his head towards the ceiling and laughed like a madman. In his mind, he knew, just knew, that he'd lost all trace of his humanity. He knew that if he ever saw his brother again he would kill him. He knew that he wanted to kill every woman he came across. He knew that...that...well, he knew that he wanted to feed this b.i.t.c.h's remains to her beloved animals. He refastened his pants and stood up, staring down at the mangled woman below him.

Then he detracted something rank in the air, and as he watched her, Nancy's body began voiding its bowels and bladder. He would have laughed again if it wasn't for the fact he found it so disgusting, the odor smelling worse than anything he'd ever smelled in his life, and that included the odor of a burning body.

With a sour look on his face, he turned back and walked over to the closest cage. He looked at the handle and noticed that there was no handle and no keyhole for a lock.

But it was a locking mechanism of some sort. He looked around and remembered the door to the back where she had come from upon finding him.

He went there now and saw a tan dog lying on a metal table in the middle of the room. It was the same dog he'd brought in before. He walked over to the dog and placed a hand on its side, stroking its fur. There was no doubt the animal was dead.

The b.i.t.c.h had put the dog to sleep, murdered it in cold blood.

Glancing back to the door where he knew Nancy's body was lying dead on the other side, he nodded, now thinking she had gotten exactly what she deserved.

No, she deserved more. They all deserve more, he thought.

He sniffed back a tear for the dead animal and turned back around. To the right of the door was a strange metal square. On the square were several blinking lights with a switch beneath each light. The lights were red right now.

This must be the controls for the unlocking mechanisms for the cage doors. He looked around the room and saw what he needed; an exit. He walked to it and opened the door and was glad to see it went outside, to the side of the building.

Even more fortunate was the fact that a small window was in the door so he could stand outside and then look back in to watch as the dogs devour her. But he knew they wouldn't start to eat a human body unless they had reason to.

They needed something to make the human meat appetizing, something to make them want to eat it like it was Grade A chuck. Then he saw the cans of dog food piled high on a shelf in the corner.

Perfect.

He went and dragged Nancy's corpse into the room, positioning the corpse so he would have a good view from the back door, then he started grabbing the cans of dog food and opening them. When he had enough opened, twenty cans in all, he started to drop the chunks of processed meat onto the corpse. With his hand he mixed the meat around in the skin and creases of her flesh until she was covered. Then he propped open the door that led to the cages.

Preparing for the next step, knowing he needed to be quick on his feet, he went to the control panel and began flicking switches, turning the lights from red to green.

At the same time, every cage in the pound opened and every dog came bolting out towards the corpse, each one barking at the other. But Randy didn't see this as he was dashing for the door leading to the outside, running through the doorway and slamming the door closed behind him.

Then he turned and peered through the small window on the door.

He watched in awe as the dogs began to tear through her body, the skin coming off in strands like pieces of paper ripped apart. A couple of dogs started fighting over a piece of flesh, but the bigger dog got the better of the other one and went back to its meal. The rottweiler he'd seen earlier gripped its jaws around the top of Nancy's head and began chewing.

Her body had become nothing more than a chew toy for each dog. There were almost a hundred dogs trying to get at the body, the smell of the dog food driving them wild, each one fighting to get their share of the body.

Evidently Nancy hadn't fed the dogs too well if they were this hungry.

He saw a few dogs he recognized and several others he didn't. Rottweilers, poodles, Dobermans, golden retrievers, German shepherds, a few pit bulls, and several others all filled the room. Within minutes her body was almost completely gone.

Each one of her bones had found a place in the mouth of a dog. Blood and a few remaining pieces of intestine and internal organs were spread out in the middle of the room. Each dog's muzzle was covered thickly with blood and small pieces of flesh that quickly got licked away.

The dogs were gorged and now were slowly calming down, all resting in the room as tongues licked muzzles to clean them of blood. Randy had seen enough so he left then. The door behind him was locked and the carnage locked away.

He always wondered what something like that would look like.

Now he knew. And now he knew what it was like to finally f.u.c.k someone in the a.s.s, to take them like they were nothing but his plaything, to stare into their eyes as he slammed himself deep into the one place most would never want him to go.

As he walked back to his car, he remembered the sensation of being deep in Nancy's a.s.s, how her a.n.u.s had wrapped around his d.i.c.k in a loving embrace.

Oh, yes, he liked f.u.c.king women in the a.s.s; it was a lot tighter than a p.u.s.s.y could ever be.