his attribution to God’s Divine Plan. God had no hand in this deed; he thought to himself, I did. When the priest left the dais others came to speak . One after the other they streamed, saying wonderful things about the deceased couple. He fidgeted. This was the longest funeral he ever attended and most elaborate. He saw the girl when her head swiveled toward the rear looking for someone then they traveled to where he sat causing him to lower his head a fraction. Had she recognized him?
S he turned around and he sighed with relief, unfortunately the excitement of seeing her and the prospect of touching her caused a sudden erection. His hands covered his crotch to hide the priapism and he closed his eyes in meditation . When he opened them again the old woman seated nearby gave him a censured glare.
“What’s wrong grandma?”
She frowned disapprovingly and slid a few inches away mumbling expletives in the church .
He smiled.
Finally, the funeral services ended and the family rose as the pallbearers lifted the caskets and walked solemnly down the aisle toward the large oak doors of the cathedral.
Everyone stood respectfully. There were weeps of anguish which grew louder and louder. They came from a middle-age woman being ushered down the aisle by a young man. He held the grieving woman whispering quietly in her ear. Directly behind him was the young woman clutching the arm of a tall distinguished man in a suit who he immediately recognized as one of the detectives on the case ; Detective Johnson…also a friend of the deceased woman.
As the group approached he hunched his body to blend in with those assembled. They moved slowly past like ghosts in a dream looking straight ahead…their eyes upon the double caskets being carried out to the sun.
The young man ’s head came up and searched the faces of the crowd with an unreadable expression. His jaw was clenched tightly and his demeanor one of stone. –But the eyes were fiery blue and in them he saw the look of a young man with a heart of ice ; a kindred spirit, a killer like himself. H e tried to contain his excitement at the prospect of killing this particular one. The challenge brought elation at getting his prey. This was a fun sport, something he took pleasure in doing . The prior victims were easy targets , no challenge at all except the last guy. Yeah, he surprised him. The man actually s welled his lip. This kid was his relation and younger, physically fit, opposing in stature, a youth in appearance but a hardened man at the core. Yeah, he’d make sport of this one. This time he’d do it right!
The entire family exited and he followed, nearly colliding with a boy at the end of the aisle.
“Watch out mister!” The boy exclaimed.
He ignored the insolent kid and followed the procession in time to see the man enter the limousine.
Yeah, t his time he’d get it right.
CHAPTER NINE
Detective Carey Winoski knocked on the door of apartment 1J. It flew open and a scantily clad girl greeted her. “Yeah, what the fuck you want pig-bitch?”
Nice. Carey peered over her shoulder into the cluttered apartment, “Is Nunzio here?”
Contempt contorted the youthful face before she c ross ed her arms in defiance , “Why the hell you keep comin ’ here askin ’ for my man?”
Carey was unamused by the pit-bull act. Street prostitutes were over-protective of their pimps. Nunzio was a low-down crackhead who exploited vulnerable girls, usually naïve run-a-ways from the Midwest.
“Tell Nunzio I want to speak to him.”
The girl’s hip swayed as she turned with a ‘humph . ’
Voices filtered into the musty corridor and the pit-bull was overheard saying , “What that bitch comin ’ here for ?Don’t walk away Nunzio !
Carey smirked as footsteps approached and a shirtless Nunzio appeared. His fat body resembled a sumo wrestler. There were s weat stains under his armpits of the size t riple X t ees hirt. The fabric was stretched in an effort to
S he turned around and he sighed with relief, unfortunately the excitement of seeing her and the prospect of touching her caused a sudden erection. His hands covered his crotch to hide the priapism and he closed his eyes in meditation . When he opened them again the old woman seated nearby gave him a censured glare.
“What’s wrong grandma?”
She frowned disapprovingly and slid a few inches away mumbling expletives in the church .
He smiled.
Finally, the funeral services ended and the family rose as the pallbearers lifted the caskets and walked solemnly down the aisle toward the large oak doors of the cathedral.
Everyone stood respectfully. There were weeps of anguish which grew louder and louder. They came from a middle-age woman being ushered down the aisle by a young man. He held the grieving woman whispering quietly in her ear. Directly behind him was the young woman clutching the arm of a tall distinguished man in a suit who he immediately recognized as one of the detectives on the case ; Detective Johnson…also a friend of the deceased woman.
As the group approached he hunched his body to blend in with those assembled. They moved slowly past like ghosts in a dream looking straight ahead…their eyes upon the double caskets being carried out to the sun.
The young man ’s head came up and searched the faces of the crowd with an unreadable expression. His jaw was clenched tightly and his demeanor one of stone. –But the eyes were fiery blue and in them he saw the look of a young man with a heart of ice ; a kindred spirit, a killer like himself. H e tried to contain his excitement at the prospect of killing this particular one. The challenge brought elation at getting his prey. This was a fun sport, something he took pleasure in doing . The prior victims were easy targets , no challenge at all except the last guy. Yeah, he surprised him. The man actually s welled his lip. This kid was his relation and younger, physically fit, opposing in stature, a youth in appearance but a hardened man at the core. Yeah, he’d make sport of this one. This time he’d do it right!
The entire family exited and he followed, nearly colliding with a boy at the end of the aisle.
“Watch out mister!” The boy exclaimed.
He ignored the insolent kid and followed the procession in time to see the man enter the limousine.
Yeah, t his time he’d get it right.
CHAPTER NINE
Detective Carey Winoski knocked on the door of apartment 1J. It flew open and a scantily clad girl greeted her. “Yeah, what the fuck you want pig-bitch?”
Nice. Carey peered over her shoulder into the cluttered apartment, “Is Nunzio here?”
Contempt contorted the youthful face before she c ross ed her arms in defiance , “Why the hell you keep comin ’ here askin ’ for my man?”
Carey was unamused by the pit-bull act. Street prostitutes were over-protective of their pimps. Nunzio was a low-down crackhead who exploited vulnerable girls, usually naïve run-a-ways from the Midwest.
“Tell Nunzio I want to speak to him.”
The girl’s hip swayed as she turned with a ‘humph . ’
Voices filtered into the musty corridor and the pit-bull was overheard saying , “What that bitch comin ’ here for ?Don’t walk away Nunzio !
Carey smirked as footsteps approached and a shirtless Nunzio appeared. His fat body resembled a sumo wrestler. There were s weat stains under his armpits of the size t riple X t ees hirt. The fabric was stretched in an effort to
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