I look through his followers list to see it’s mostly bots that mass follow random people, with a few up-and-coming OnlyFans models following him too. The list of people he’s following is much greater. About a third of the people are famous actors and comedians, and the rest are all women. Some profile pictures look harmless, which I think could be people he knows in real life. Some of them are obvious influencers, like Sage.
After skimming through the list, I don’t think I’m going to find anything, other than the fact he might have some kind of pornography addiction.
If I can’t freely get information on him, I’ll lead him into a trap. It doesn’t take long for me to throw together a website for Sage. Honestly, she should probably have one already, but that’s a conversation for another time.
I saw him mention the possibility of Sage creating a wish list for her fans to purchase things for her. Clearly, he thinks that will buy him some favor with her, and he desperately needs that because he doesn’t get validation anywhere else in life.
I open the chat exchange and start typing a message to him. Sage doesn’t respond to him a lot, but I do my best to mimic her voice as I type.Hey! Trust me, you’ve nothing to worry about.In spite of everything I believe in, I attach an emoji that’s blowing a kiss.I’ve just been really busy filming some new content. I think you might find this especially interesting.
She uses a lot of emojis. I cringe as I attach another to the message. I attach the link to the end and open the software I have and wait.
The message is read almost instantly, which comes as no surprise. I can imagine this man seeing a message from her pop up and immediately dropping everything he is doing to read it. His self-worth hinges entirely on this, and I pity him.
Immediately after, I get a ping on my software, letting me know someone has clicked on the link to the website I created. “People make it too easy.”
I smile to myself as his IP address is given to me freely. All I had to do was throw together a mediocre website with a few pictures of her embedded in it.
Not seeing any new content here. But I can’t wait to see what you have to show, babe!he replies.
Eli Morrow. Thirty-five, lives in Birmingham, Alabama. He works from home as a social media and data analyst for a men’s health vitamin line that has far too many bought followers on Instagram and Facebook. I would assume their sloppy business is Eli’s doing, knowing what I know about him.
He doesn’t look anything like I pictured. I was imagining some grimy man-child in a basement, but the pictures I see of him standing in front of his Christmas tree with his fiancée don’t look anything like that.
“I bet Carol doesn’t know anything about your little indiscretions, does she?” I shake my head as I scroll through years of pictures detailing his life. He lives online. He has thousands of friends and followers on his main account, yet nobody but his fiancée has tagged him in anything.
I can read him like a book. He lives for online validation from strangers because if people who don’t know him think he’s great, that must mean something. In real life, he’s sad and lonely. He might be engaged, but neither of them is happy. Eli isn’t bad-looking, but he’s not good-looking enough to go out and get anyone he wants, so he’s happy to settle with someone he thinks will stay with him. I’m sure Carol thinks he is the charming, loyal man he’s portrayed himself as for so long.
A squeal of laughter from outside catches my attention, and I look up from the computer to see Sage in the hot tub. She’s standing up with a wide smile on her face, looking not at me but at a squirrel in the distance, water dripping down her perfect body, making her glisten in the sun. I lick my lips, staring at her, not thinking any better of it.
Her tits are practically begging to be free from that bikini top, and I want nothing more than to go over and untie it myself. She lowers herself back into the water and calms down when the squirrel scampers off. I watch as she closes her eyes and relaxes against the side.
I try to turn my attention back to my search, but my mind is tainted with images of Sage once again. I think about waking up this morning with her riding me, how good it felt to have her pussy wrapped around me like that. How much she liked when I choked her.
“No,” I say. I clench my fists and focus on the screen, trying to force every thought of her out of my head. I thought this was done. I thought I was going to be able to do my research without her intruding on it.
Maybe I can’t have her around after all. It’s never going to work. As long as she’s here, I’m going to be distracted, and that’s going to ruin me. I’ll do it after Eli.
When he’s gone, I’ll kill her. I close my eyes and think about exactly what I want to do. I imagine walking through the front door with a knife in my hand. She’s asleep on the couch as I approach, ready to plunge the blade into her chest.
But as I get closer, the image shatters. It’s ripped away from me before I can get to the most gratifying part. I try again, imaginingstrangling her while she’s in the shower, but just as my hands wrap around her throat, the image morphs into the memory of this morning.
I’m going crazy. I’m losing my fucking mind.
No matter how many times I try to imagine what her face looks like when the life slips away and her eyes turn cold and dead, the image dissipates before it comes to fruition. I can’t kill her. Not even in my own fucking mind.
Frustration spreads through every vein in my body, and I feel a prickle behind my eyes, needing to relieve it. That’s normally why I kill. The urge gets unbearable, and I don’t know how I can go on without conceding to it.
The alarm on my watch rings, letting me know that my research time is over. I have an hour of free time. I don’t know what I want to do with it, which is frustrating in and of itself. It’s an entire block of my day that I don’t have planned out like I normally would.
I stand up and walk out of my office, lingering in the living room for a few moments as I try to come up with a plan. My mind bounces between Eli and Sage and Kevin and everyone else who came before them.
Footsteps on the deck catch my attention, and I look up to see Sage standing outside the hot tub, waving at me. I ignore her at first, taking a seat on the couch and turning on the TV. If I can’t focus on killing, I can at least focus on current events.
I try to watch the news. Bombings, terrorism, billionaires acting in their own self-interest, panic over mass recalls of car parts. Nothing new. Sage keeps her eyes on me as I try to avoid looking at her.
Eventually I give up and can’t take my eyes off her. She walks around casually, admiring the tree line as she leans against the railing.
Maybe I can push her off the balcony. It’s not a big fall, but it could possibly break her neck. If not, she could hit her head on a tree stump and die that way.
