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Sitting on the couch, I retrieve my phone and open the messaging app, preparing to respond to their latest message. I want to show them that I am not easily intimidated and that their actions only fueled my determination.
With a steady hand, I type a message.
Sending the message, I hold my breath, waiting for their response. The seconds feel like an eternity as I stare at the screen, my heart pounding in my chest.
Finally, a new message comes through.
Chapter 6
Alex
Afterreceivingtheirgiftand that last message, it is a struggle to find any sleep. When I eventually drift into an exhausted, restless sleep in the early hours of the morning, my dreams are haunted by masked men and strong hands moving intimately on my body. Touching me and whispering to me about games of Truth or Dare and the things they wanted to do to me that had nothing to do with killing.
I wake up with a start, drenched in sweat, my heart pounding loudly in my chest. The killers seem to have taken over my subconscious mind, blending my reality and my erotic dreams into a disturbing mixture. The image of those masked men and the feeling of their hands on me lingers like an echo and my body throbs with need in a way that should feel wrong but somehow doesn’t.
Feeling a mix of guilt and confusion, I push aside the conflicting emotions that surge through me. I can’t let myself be consumed by desire or be distracted from the task at hand. It is crucial to maintain my focus on solving the case and bringing these murderers to justice.
It is still mostly dark outside, only the first hints of light peeking through the blinds on my bedroom window. Determined to regain control, I force myself out of bed and make my way to the bathroom. Another shower seems necessary to wash away the sweat and the remnants of the unsettling dreams that plagued my sleep.
Stepping under the hot water, I let it wash over me, hoping it would cleanse not only my body but also my mind. I close my eyes, trying to find a sense of calm amid the chaos that surrounds me. The water soaks my hair, cascading down my face, and down my body, soothing the tension in my muscles.
I reach for the shower gel and lather it onto my skin, letting my hands glide over my body, the warm water enhancing every sensation. My whole body pulses as I let my fingers brush against my throbbing clit. As much as I try to push away the disturbing images and dreams that still linger in my mind, it is as though my subconscious wants to keep playing them on repeat to fuel the desire coursing through my body.
As the pleasure intensifies, I couldn't help but give in to my body's demands, even though it feels like a betrayal to myself and the victims. The conflicting emotions surge within me, but in that moment, the allure of escape and temporary relief overwhelm any rational thought.
I lean against the tiled wall of the shower, my breathing becoming heavy and erratic. The hot water continues to pour over me, amplifying the sensations that electrify every nerve ending. My fingers dance across my pussy, tracing circles and teasing touches, succumbing to the overpowering need that consumes me.
My mind brings forward images of gloved hands dragging down the front of my body, pinching at my nipples. It conjures another body pressed to my back, one of their gloved hands wrapping around my throat from behind and squeezing hard as their other gloved hand moves between my legs.
In my mind it is their hands moving over me as my fingers plunge into my wet pussy and touch my clit. With each stroke, the images from my dreams intertwine with my reality, blurring the line of right and wrong. My mind becomes a battleground of desire and guilt, but the hunger for release grows more insatiable with every passing second.
As my body trembles, getting closer to the edge while I move my fingers on my clit, I could almost hear their whispers echoing in my ears, fueling the fire that burned deep within. I surrender to the raw intensity of the moment, allowing myself to momentarily forget the horrors of the case, losing myself in a world of primal desires.
The tension builds, coiling tightly within me until it becomes unbearable. My body is poised on the edge of the cliff as my fingers continue their movements, thrusting deep inside my pussy before moving to circle my clit, pressing against it with a trembling hand.
“God, yes,” the cry escapes my lips as my back arches against the wall and a wave of ecstasy crashes over me. Washing away the torment and uncertainty, at least for a fleeting moment. But as the pleasure subsides, reality crashes back in, reminding me of the unresolved murders that await my attention.
Regret washes over me as I turn off the water, the remnants of desire slowly fading away. I step out of the shower, feeling a mix of shame and relief. While the experience granted me a reprieve, I know it was only a temporary escape.
With renewed state of mind, I dry myself off and dress, ready to face the day ahead. I resolve to compartmentalize my desires and focus solely on the investigation, ensuring that justice would prevail and the victims would find peace.
After dressing for the day, I leave the rental house and head to the nearest drive-through coffee shop. The familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee greets me as I order my usual strong black coffee and a bagel to go. The caffeine would help keep me alert and focused during the long hours ahead.
With the hot cup of coffee nestled in the cup holder and the bagel resting on the passenger seat, I drive towards the office. The streets were still quiet in the early morning, offering a sense of solitude that allowed me to gather my thoughts.
When I walk into the office, carrying my breakfast and feeling a little exhausted, I am surprised to find two unfamiliar men standing inside the room, their attention fixed on the murder boards.
One of them is standing near the board displaying information about our newest victim, his eyes glued to the images of her body, while the other is sitting at the table where Derek and I usually work, nonchalantly cutting an apple with a sharp knife. Their presence unnerves me, especially considering the sensitive nature of the case.
They glance in my direction as I walk in. The one near the murder board gives me a curt nod, his hazel eyes assessing me with an intensity that made me uneasy. The way he has his light brown hair slicked back to his head makes his look even more intense.
The other, with his feet propped up on the table, continues to casually slice through the apple as if he were in his own domain. A strand of his dark brown hair falls forward with the tilt of his head.
They are both attractive men, and I can see their muscles filling out the black suits they wear. But that still doesn’t explain what they were doing in our space.
"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" I ask, trying to maintain a composed demeanor despite the unease creeping in.
The man with the knife looks up at me, his piercing brown eyes meeting mine. "Just fellow agents, interesting case you have here," he replies curtly, his voice steady and devoid of any emotion.
