The blonde got mad and stormed away with the brunette following after her.

Randy watched and realized this would be another perfect opportunity. The man wasn't there. Only the teacher and Randy. He silently got up and crept around the back of the school where the pair had undoubtedly gone.

They were there. The two were arguing about something. Randy walked up to them and looked at them with a smile as a new plan came to fruition.

"I've been watching you girls," he said as sweetly as he could muster.

The blonde one snapped back, "Yeah, so what?"

"I just think you both got what it takes. You're just not doing the right dance."

"What do you mean?" the brunette asked.

"Simple. I can teach you a new dance. I used to be a dance director."

The blonde, still snappy, said, "What, you gonna teach us something?"

"Only if you don't tell a soul about it. Being taught this could get you kicked out of the talent show. But if you're quiet then you'll win this easy."

They both looked at each other and asked together, "Are you sure?"

Randy laughed heartily. "Of course I'm sure. I've won so many compet.i.tions I can't count them all!"

The girls smiled and Randy thought, bingo.

He had them, now all he had to do was get them home.

Getting the girls back to his house had turned out to be the simplest thing ever. They had walked away from the school and all the way to his house on their own accord. It was only a five minute walk and Randy had seen no cars drive past on his neighborhood road, and as the girls were skipping along happily, no one gave him the slightest attention if a face happened to peer from a window of a house they pa.s.sed.

The pair had walked behind him singing and laughing and carrying on. "When we get inside I'm gonna teach the two of you some great moves. You'll have everyone standing in their chairs clapping for you."

Of course they believed him. Why shouldn't they? They were two girls who didn't know the world was a threat so they followed him. If they had been warned after the other girl had disappeared, the warnings were now forgotten.

He reached his house and walked inside with them following him.

Keeping up his absurd act, he asked them if they wanted something to eat. They said they did, so Randy fixed them some waffles.

While mixing the batter, he had dropped several crushed sleeping pills into it. These weren't your over the counter kind either, they were prescription and had a kick like a mule if more than two were taken at once.

When the waffles were done, he served them along with a gla.s.s of milk for each of them.

The two girls ate excitedly, still laughing and joking around. Within a few minutes of eating they began to feel sleepy. The brunette fell asleep first followed closely by the blonde. Before she had fallen completely asleep, she had seen Randy standing up and walking over to her. She just couldn't do anything about it. Her head fell onto the table, overcome as the drug filled her system.

Randy grinned lecherously as he stared down at the two small girls.

This was going to be fun.

The blonde was the first one to awaken and the first one to start screaming.

Randy bent down and laughed into her face, relishing her fear. She looked around for her friend, and upon seeing her chained to the wall, a bright light shining down on the slim form, her mouth dropped open in shock.

"I'm saving her for later. You...you are for now," Randy said in a low voice.

She started to scream and cry and Randy laughed into her face again.

"Go *head and make as much noise as you want!" he screamed at her. "We're in a bas.e.m.e.nt in a house with no neighbors. n.o.body will ever hear you!"

"Why, mister? Why are you doing this to us?" she asked while looking up at Randy with saddened, tearstained eyes.

"Because it's fun! It's who I am!"

"What are you going to do?" she sobbed.

"I'm going to turn your a.s.s into a woman, you little f.u.c.king b.i.t.c.h!"

With that said, he grabbed her by her face and forced open her mouth. Because of the dark around them, she wasn't able to see him clearly. But she did feel his p.e.n.i.s invade her throat. To the side of them, the small brunette had awakened. She tried to cry out but a gag had been placed in her mouth.

Randy held the blonde's head firmly between his hands and growled, "If you bite me, I'll cut your friend into bite-sized pieces."

He grabbed her hair firmly and jabbed his member deeper into her throat and she immediately began to gag. Her eyes closed and watered and she started trying to back away. He only jabbed harder and went deeper into her throat. She was unable to breathe and unable to get away. He wildly f.u.c.ked her face as hard as he could, loving the power, the total dominion over her.

Her head was pulling back and he was following. Soon she was completely against the floor and his waist was on top of her head. His hands still held onto her head firmly. He felt liquid running along the sides of his p.e.n.i.s and decided it was either blood or vomit, maybe both. It didn't matter. It felt too good to him to stop now.

He continued to f.u.c.k her face wildly, as rough and as hard as he could, even though he could no longer feel air or the sound of her gags.

She was dead. He had choked her to death with himself, and as he o.r.g.a.s.med into her mouth, he started laughing.

Proud of himself, Randy finished with her and pulled out of her mouth. He stared hard into her face. It was blue. Vomit mixed with blood and c.u.m dripped off the end of his c.o.c.k.

He walked over to the brunette, smiling like the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland. She was frozen in terror, her eyes darting from him to her dead friend; she couldn't scream, her voice was paralyzed.

He grabbed her by the head with one hand and his c.o.c.k with the other. He wiped the mess off in her hair as he prepared to have some fun with her.

But before he could begin, a noise caught his attention from behind. He knew what it was immediately and he slowly turned, dreading what he'd find.

The clapping continued Upon turning around, he saw his brother, Walter, standing at the edge of the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs, clapping.

"Bravo. Bravo," Walter said as he applauded his brother.

Chapter 9.

"Why are you wearing a suit?" Randy asked his brother after he'd gotten dressed and they had walked upstairs and into the kitchen. "It makes you look like a cop."

Randy had backhanded the brunette girl and knocked her unconscious, forgetting about her for the moment.

The first thing Randy noticed was that Walter was no longer wearing an all leather suit with a trench coat and boots. He still had his beard and shaved head, but he was now wearing a blue suit. A policeman's uniform, if Randy was correct.

"Yes, I know. I like the way it feels," Walter said, admiring his sleeve. "I had to kill a cop to get it."

Walter looked at his brother, who was sitting at the kitchen table as he poured himself a beer.

Randy lit a cigarette and said, "Seriously. Why?"

Walter smiled at his brother and replied, "Well, no reason to hold the truth back from you anymore. I am a cop."

Randy dropped his cigarette. "What do you mean, you're a cop?"

"Exactly what I just said, Randy ole' boy. I'm a cop."

"When did this happen?"

"I've always been a cop. Ever since I turned twenty. Dad made me go to basic training in the police academy. He said he'd failed with you and I was his last shot."

"What do you mean by failed?" Randy asked as he lowered his head.

"He said he knew he'd failed the day you were born. That was why he left. Give me one," Walter gestured to the cigarette in Randy's hand. Randy handed Walter a cigarette and he proceeded to light it as he continued. "He said that you looked nothing like him. He doesn't even think you're his real son."

"Really?"

"Well, that's what he thought," Walter said and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Ugh, these are terrible; you smoke these all the time?"

Randy shrugged. "I like them, don't smoke it if you don't want to. Now, what do you mean by Dad thought I wasn't his?"

"That's right, that's what he thought. Well, that is he did up till I killed him and his b.i.t.c.h of a wife."

"You killed Dad? Why"

"Because, Randy, you are his son. His blood runs through your veins. And so does mine, and I don't like being related to someone who likes to choke nine-year-old girls to death with their p.e.n.i.s."

Randy jabbed a finger at Walter. "f.u.c.k you, you two-faced son of a b.i.t.c.h! You don't tell me how to run my life! And what about you? You destroyed an entire town for G.o.d's sake!"

"A town? That place was barely a f.u.c.king village. It had less people in it than a G.o.dd.a.m.n Whitesnake concert. Besides that, those f.u.c.kers were all bad people."

"Do you even know what that b.i.t.c.h of a mother did to me?" Randy asked him.

"Of course I do. I arrested her one time on a DUI and she told me all about it as she was so drunk she couldn't count to two. I let her go even though I could have had her sent to prison."

"You what?"

"Yeah. I think it's funny. You're a motherf.u.c.ker, Randy. A real bad motherf.u.c.ker."

"I'm gonna f.u.c.king kill you," Randy growled as his hands curled into fists.

Walter started laughing at him and said with a smile, "Go *head, dumb a.s.s. But who do you think has been protecting your a.s.s all this time? Who do you think removed all the evidence from all of your crimes? It was me!"

"Bulls.h.i.t. There was no evidence," Randy snapped back.

"Are you kidding me? Are you really that dense? Every woman you've ever raped you came inside her. You left finger prints all over everything. You left tire tracks. You've been recorded. You were seen chasing the girl that disappeared. Sometimes I've been forced to lay the blame on someone else to cover your s.h.i.t. You're a sloppy, idiotic killer, Randy."

"But I always burn the evidence."

"Randy, fire doesn't wash away everything. The body at the pound? The dogs didn't eat it all. I took it and got rid of it."

"Why? Why protect me if you hate me so much."

"Ah, but it's because I hate you. Because you are the only one I do hate. I can kill anybody at all. I have no feeling towards anyone, no remorse. But you? I f.u.c.king hate your guts. You sicken me. Besides, we have a game to play."

"You're kidding me, right? This is a joke? I can't play this game anymore," Randy said, shaking his head in denial. He'd thought he was so smart and it was all a lie.

"And why not? Why can't you?" Walter asked as he c.o.c.ked his head to the side. "From what I've been seeing, you've lost that little part of yourself that hates killing. You've been merrily killing any little girls you come across."

"I'm not playing your sick game. f.u.c.k you, cop." The last word came out like a curse.

Walter grinned. "Oh, you'll play. Or I'll win." His grin widened. "And you don't want me to win, a.s.shole."

"Good, you win. I don't really give a f.u.c.k anymore. Go f.u.c.k off and win, a.s.shole."

"Are you sure about this? I'm telling you the truth here; you really don't want me to win."

Randy smiled and drank some of his beer while snubbing out his cigarette.

"Yes. Just leave me alone." He lit another cigarette.

"Really dumb choice of words there, bro," Walter sighed. "Remember the terms? If I win, I get to f.u.c.k with you all I like. I stay in your life. I'll even ruin your life."

"And if I win you get to f.u.c.k off. I remember the terms very well. But I don't give a s.h.i.t. My life is already ruined you can't f.u.c.k it up anymore," Randy's face was red he was so mad.

"Is that so?" Walter asked with a cooler smile, as if he knew something Randy didn't. "I don't think so. Your life seems to be just fine. You've got money for the rest of your life and a house you own free and clear. You're always able to get away with it scot-free. You kill casually; you do what you want when you want. Yet still, you b.i.t.c.h? You say your life is ruined? I don't think so. You've ruined lives, but your life is fine."

Randy looked Walter straight in the face and their eyes met.

"Once again, Walter. f.u.c.k you."

Like a coiled viper, Randy jumped across the table and grabbed Walter by the sleeves of his suit. He picked him up, knocking his chair over and slammed him into the wall. Once, then twice. They were face to face now, scouring at each other.

With one hand, Walter grabbed his brother by the wrist and flipped him over onto the floor. With a heavy thud, Randy slammed onto the floor and Walter began to kick him in the stomach. With both hands, Randy grabbed his brother's left leg as it came in for another kick. He caught him off balance and Walter dropped to the floor.

Walter struck the edge of the table on his way down and the table flipped upwards just as Walter smacked the floor.

Randy rolled on top of his brother and sat up. He balled his right hand into a fist and began to punch Walter repeatedly in the face. He broke his nose and blood began to flow. But Walter only laughed manically.

Walter swung his right fist at Randy's face, followed by another punch in the gut. Randy stumbled backwards to his feet with the air knocked out of his chest. Walter quickly stood and ran at Randy.