The Sundown Butcher

[MoldaviteGreen]

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The abyssal gloom of the night was cleaved by the single sliver of brilliant gold, filtering in through the clear glass of a large window. The chill, having licked at bare flesh as it rolled from the pane, slowly dissipated and was replaced, instead with warmth. The honeyed light captured entangled limbs, where sculpted cream flesh drove into smooth olive. Hungry fingertips clawed at the flesh of an arched back; the valley of a spine marked by red lines from abrasive nails. Skin the colour of caramel dimpled beneath pressure, soft and supple and silken. A hand slipped upwards to thread thick digits into the tight curls of inky hair, to pull firmly at scalp and expose a slender throat. A broad, sculpted back pressed against the wooden headboard of a double bed, perched beneath the window and bathed in the golden light of the dawn. Toned legs were stretched out before him, tangled in the dark, cotton sheets.

But it was the woman upon him, her spine and neck arched and eyes closed in ecstasy, that glowed bronze in the morning light. Her knees pressed into the firm mattress by his hips, her feet tucked underneath her and by the sides of his knees as she straddled his lap. The corner of the dark sheet was tossed over her thigh, neither needed nor noticed. Heavy breasts bounced against her chest, striking her lower ribs as she rose and fell with increasing tempo. Their flesh, as equally bronze as the rest of her, were broken only by the rose blush of her hardened nipples; one pierced with a delicate gold bar.

His calloused hand caught the bouncing mound, drawing it upward toward her collarbone as he leant forward. The pert nipple, decorated with gold, was gifted the slow stroke of warm tongue over hardened flesh, before it was drawn into the cavity of his mouth and suckled. His other hand remained in her hair, she’d made it clear that she enjoyed the element of pain that came with being roughly handled and he obeyed. He found that when teeth caught the sensitive bud of her nipple and when scalp was yanked firmly to bend her spine at an even sharper angle, that she responded with vigorous enthusiasm.

The sliver of dawn caught their coupling. A bead of liquid arousal glistened as it rolled down from the base of his hardened cock to the cleft between his tightening balls. As quick as it had been deposited, leaking from the pussy that swallowed him, it was smeared by the downward fall of her hips that allowed the round cheeks of her ass to kiss the apex of his thighs. His veined length was buried within her, hilted for the split second that she allowed, as she rolled her hips forward to grind engorged clit against his pubis. A curse left her, un-ladylike and crude, as she was granted the friction she so desperately craved. He could feel her tightening, those textured walls pulsating as she neared the rush of an orgasm.

He bit harder, taking her nipple so firmly within teeth that the flesh about it paled. She’d allowed him the pleasure of release four times that night, leaving his seed over the smooth plane of her belly, over the round of her ass, and even in her mouth to swallow more than once. He could give her this, this sudden and impending release. Releasing her nipple, he leant back against the headboard, drawing his free hand around her waist to grapple with the plush orbs of her ass. His grip on her hair tightened as his fingers splayed over the supple flesh that spilled between his knuckles. Digging his feet into the mattress, his hips undulated beneath her own, pistoning his cock in time with her down-thrusts, meeting her with a harsh, echoing strike of flesh upon flesh that jolted her body.

The rough drive of his cock from beneath her was enough to release the flood gates. She grappled at his shoulders, her nails digging into the muscles until his skin turned red, as her lips parted and eyes clenched closed. She was there, right at the very precipice of orgasm, and his last, unrelenting thrust had her spasming. The small city apartment was split with her cry, her body contorting above him as she shuddered in release. Her toes curled against his knees, her eyes rolling back in her head as she panted, the young woman above him clenching down so firmly upon his length that he was driven into equal madness. An expletive left his own lips as he bucked beneath her, the tightness within his balls becoming near painful as he came and flooded latex sleeve.

She clung to him, writhing as a steady trickle of her own nectar was released from her depths to trickle and smear over the base of his shaft. Her breaths were ragged, her body tense for nearly a minute, before she fell forward to slump against his chest. The hand in her hair released, smoothing its way down her back instead to rub at lumbar. He, as equally out of breath as she, revelled in his fifth orgasm for the night; the young woman having drained everything from him and then some. With his mind foggy, sleep threatening to creep in, he barely registered how she peeled herself away from him and dismounted his cock, leaving him to discard his own seed into the small trashcan by the bed as she padded over to where he’d tossed her white shirt after tearing it from her ten hours before.

Content, he laid there, tucking an arm behind his head as he simply watched her caramel fingers nimbly fasten her buttons, before they raked through the tight coils of her dark hair and tucked it behind an ear. Turning his face to the side, for the first time that night, he admired the view from her apartment. The sprawling city was coming to life, traffic returning to the roads as the day began.

Olive fingertips plucked the morning paper from where it had been slipped beneath her door, shaking out its fold as she meandered slowly toward the three-legged table tucked in the far corner of the studio. Using bare toes to shift the single chair aside, the white cotton of her button-down shirt shifted about her frame as she tucked a leg up beneath her and slipped into the seat. With her second leg bent, tucked between her heavy chest and the edge of the table, she wrapped a single arm about it as the other made move to thumb through the first page of the newspaper.

Another brutal murder, bringing the total to five, and still no leads.

With eyebrows furrowed as she read, the chair creaked slightly as Eris shifted her weight forward against the table, eager to be closer to the printed words that captivated her so wholly that she failed to hear the shuffle as jeans were tugged on over legs. There came the metal tink of a belt’s clasp being fastened, and even that wasn’t enough to draw her gaze up from ‘the Morning Star’. Her company, a man she’d invited home from the bar last night, continued to fix the buttons of his own shirt as he watched her drop her chin atop her knee.

“You have my number from last night?” His voice was groggy with the sleep they’d sacrificed for sinful pleasure. The question was partly asked because he genuinely couldn’t remember whether he’d given her his number before she’d invited him home, but also in part because he was curious as to where they stood. She hadn’t spoken a word to him since their first few mutual cries of ecstasy, and she’d been quick to leave the bed even in her afterglow.

Eris, not gifting the man who’s name she’d already forgotten even a glance, reached over to the other edge of the table where several neatly folded newspapers had been stacked. They weren’t of recent publication, the oldest two months old, but all were just as relevant today as they had been when printed. As she drew the paper atop the pile closer, sitting a little straighter in order to use both hands to smooth the paper out beside the current, she hummed an acknowledgement of his question. That was it, that was all that she could afford him, as her focus instead was turned upon the two black-and-white pictures in the articles as her eyes narrowed a fraction.

Nothing else was said. The man knew when his welcome was waning. Instead, he quietly slipped on his shoes, gathered his coat from where it had been tossed upon the floor and plucked up his phone, keys and wallet that had been treated with similar contempt. He made only to pause by the front door, casting a glance over his shoulder at the young woman by the table, before he sighed through his nose and slipped out into the hallway, closing the door firmly behind him. A transaction was all that had been.

Alone or with company, it mattered little to Eris. In her world, there would always be something that would take precedence over politeness and good manners. She didn’t owe that man anything; neither a thanks nor a promise to call him later. His number had never been saved in her phone and it had been wiped from her memory the very second he'd spoken it. In a world like hers, one couldn’t have attachments. Attachments were weaknesses to be exploited by others, and came with great personal cost.

And so, she sat alone, pouring over the small collection of newspaper articles pertaining to one particular individual.

The Sundown Butcher.

~ ~ ~​

The latch of the door signified that they were alone, something that the two parties absolutely detested.

Eris Hollern was not the most inattentive of her cohort, there were indeed far worse. She was, however, the kind of pupil that grated on one’s nerves for many reasons. For a man like Leroy Michaud, an agent that had been in the service for close to forty-three years, she stood for everything that he believed didn’t belong in the Bureau. Eris was a forward-thinking young woman, someone who questioned rules and morals and codes. She didn’t settle for the status quo and challenged all those she believed did. Equal parts privileged and unfortunate, she was raised to be a particular kind of woman. A challenger. A fighter. A rebel. None of these things belonged within the Bureau, and neither did a young woman and one of colour, if you asked Leroy Michaud.

To Eris, her cohort’s Behavioural Analysis lecturer was out-dated, misogynistic, closed-minded and a bigot. He was a man that deducted points from her papers, but failed to give reason why. He was a man who gave her the most difficult cases and his male pupils the easiest. She thought him an old badger with ancient views.

To find them both within this room now, Leroy Michaud seated regally within his high-backed leather office chair with his fingers threaded together in his lap and Eris Hollern seated in the smaller chair opposite him with her back straight and arms draped over the rests, was an astonishing feat to say the least. Some would dare say impossible.

“If you have called me into your office to tell me that I have failed my last paper and, therefore, will be taking your unit again next semester, I’ll lead with a word of warning. I’ll be fighting your grading and putting it to the Board.” The smile that tugged the corners of her plush lips upward was one of wicked intention; like a carefully crafted snarl. “I have absolutely no intention of repeating your unit, nor do I intend to have my graduation delayed.”

This was precisely one of the reasons he couldn’t stand her. So presumptuous. Here she sat in his office making such demands. Leroy Michaud’s dark brows pinched together above his beak-like nose as he frowned across the way at her. His calloused hands, from years of hard work in the Bureau, tightened infinitesimally as knuckles paled; something that was noted by Eris and caused a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. She’d struck a nerve.

“Perhaps, before jumping to conclusions, you could allow me enough time to address the reason for calling you into my office before you make a fool out of yourself,” Leroy’s hands relaxed, but only slightly, his body still tense in her presence. He did not allow his gaze to falter, his dull blue eyes never leaving the abyssal near-black of her own. Nor did he look away when he released his hands, leant to the side and withdrew something from within his desk’s drawer. The office echoed with the smack of a light folder striking wood. “You’ll find everything that you’ll need in that folder, and I trust that you will keep that secure at all times and will keep it from falling into the hands of the media.”

It was time, now, for Eris to frown as she looked to the cream folder before her, a lodgement number paperclipped to its front. As thin as it was, it clearly didn’t have much information. Either it was a fresh case, or something that had brought forward little evidence. She knew what this was. Leroy had given similar extra assignments to the students he believed would come to amount to something special. It was either a cold case that the Bureau wanted someone to look into again, with or without a new lead, or it was a case not important enough to make it to the news. They never had the students working on something noteworthy, in case they got it wrong.

“I imagine that you’ll be familiar with this case, and if not, well…then you must be dumb, deaf or blind.” Leroy gave a curt smile, with about the same amount of genuineness as her previous. It only earned him a fiercer scowl from across the desk, to which he ignored and simply nodded at the folder, encouraging her to look. As Eris plucked it from the desk and began to shift through the few pieces of paper inside, he continued. “Our agents have been having difficulty getting any leads, and I believe it is because they are one-tracked minded and are failing to see things. A second point of view may assist with moving this case towards a prosecution. Everything our agents have thus far is within that folder, I have left nothing out.”

A crime scene photograph fell into Eris’ lap, a startling twin to one she’d seen this morning in the newspaper. “You want me to investigate the Sundown Butcher? You’ve got to be joking.”

Leroy set her with a rather firm stare. “I’m quite serious, Miss Hollern, and you’d be best to make note.” His eyes dropped to the photograph she held pinched between her fingers. “There has been a frustrating absence of leads on this case. Each murder has always resulted in a dead end. The perpetrator has been careful, thus far, and it has made the Bureau’s job incredibly difficult.”

“Graduated agents have failed to find any leads on this case and you expect me to be able to?” Eris raised a dark eyebrow, glancing between Leroy and the photograph she held upward towards the light as if it may reveal a clue.

“Don’t be flattered,” Leroy was quick to counter, quick to deliver a quip to keep her over-inflated ego from growing any further in size. “I don’t believe you have the skillset necessary to apprehend the perpetrator yourself, nor do I believe you have the skill to correctly analyse this information alone. There is one thing missing from that folder that you will be required to assess.” A second folder was plucked from his desk’s drawer, tossed her way and nearly skidding from the wood onto the floor. “You will be attending Ashmount Maximum Security Facility. I have already called ahead of time. The warden will meet you an hour from now at the gates and they run on a tight schedule, so you would do best not to be late.”

Eris’ frown deepened. What more could she need to learn about the case of the Sundown Butcher that would be in a maximum-security prison? “I don’t understand.”

Leroy snorted. “I thought you wouldn’t.” He gestured to the second folder and waited until she palmed through the papers within before he continued. “There is only one person greater than the Bureau at psychologically analysing someone of criminal background, even if we were fortunate enough to put them behind bars and that’s where they’ve remained. I believe that he will be able to enlighten you on several pieces of the case that has otherwise stumped others.”

“And you think he’ll help me because?”

“Because you’re a woman, of course.”

~ ~ ~​

Eris was not a second late in arriving to Ashmount Maximum Security Facility and had, instead, been five minutes early and left to stand out in the autumn chill of the morning. She found herself grateful that she hadn’t decided to attend the meeting with Leroy in her usual attire; well-fitting clothes that left little to the imagination. If Eris knew anything, she didn’t doubt that her potential ally would do anything to get a taste of womanly flesh after spending so many years locked behind bars, never allowed out. A form-fitting pair of jeans might have encouraged him more than she’d like.

Pulling a cream coat tighter about her, Eris brushed a hand down over her tawny brown plaid trousers. She’d taken the papers from the folders the second she’d left Leroy’s office, instead neatly collating them within a brown leather journal with a worn spine. It appeared less daunting, she believed, to have a journal present rather than several folders while questioning someone; especially while trying to establish some kind of understanding. Her dark ringlets had been pulled up into a high-ponytail, several wisps too wild to be contained and instead falling about to frame the heart shape of her face. Perhaps the only thing she thought may draw too much of his attention was the hazelnut brown long sleeve she wore, tucked into her trousers by a brown belt, with a low-cut V neckline.

Perhaps it may work in my favour.

“Miss Hollern.” The warden waved for the nearby guard to unlock the secure gate, buzzing her inside the premises. “My apologies at keeping you waiting, I was rather caught up with a rambunctious inmate who decided to test another’s patience. I will never understand where they seem to get such unbridled rage from, or such grossly large egos.” The warden, a short man, was of older age and had already begun to grey. He wasn’t employed for his physical capability, after all, but rather his ability to establish rapport, ensure the prison was functional and safe, and to uphold the rules within. When he smiled, however, the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes deepened as those jade orbs brightened a shade. “While I was pleased to receive a phone call from your instructor, an old friend of mine, I am not yet convinced that his plan will be fruitful. You see…he can be quite stubborn and rather silent when he wishes.”

The smile that bestowed Eris’ sharp features was one of equal brightness. “I understand,” she nodded, following him through several more gates and locked doors before entering the prison and trailing after the warden. “The worst that can come out of this is I am simply ignored. I see no harm in trying.”

“Oh, my dear,” the warden paused, turning in place as he glanced to her, his face pinched. “There are a lot worse outcomes from interactions with this man.” With that, he turned on his heel and guided her deeper within the facility. Down three sets of staircases, into the belly of the stone-walled building, and he paused by a steel grate. “The guards will buzz you in from here. Make sure to stay away from the glass at all times. Do not respond to personal questions. I would suggest you even adopt a mask of indifference and show little human emotion.” The warden touched her elbow just as a guard in black uniform stepped from the darkness beyond and buzzed the door open. “Be safe, Miss Hollern, for there are fates worse than questions unanswered.”

Eris nodded only once before moving into the darkness, where the guard closed the grate behind her, waited for the automatic bolt to latch, before unlocking the second grate before them with a seven-digit code and thumb print. High tech security for a place that looked more like a castle from the outside than a prison facility. Her fingertips found their way to the two layered golden necklaces that hung low on her chest; one a simple teardrop pendant and the other adorned with a gold, replica-Roman coin.

It caught the guard’s attention as they passed into a wide room. “I wouldn't do that. You’ll draw his attention.”

“Nervous habit.” Eris’ hand fell away, clasping her journal in front of her as she waited for a second guard to cue in a longer code this time, before the two men stepped to the side and motioned for her to pass into the looming darkness.

“He's the only one we keep down here. Disruptive, you see, even when removed from the others.” The first guard nodded into the gloom. “There’s a stool in front of his cell for you, against the wall. Hard to miss. Like the warden said, Miss, just stay away from the glass and you’ll do plenty fine.”

Eris wasn’t so sure, not even as she stepped into the darkness that seemed to swallow her whole with nothing more than a simple; “Yeah, sure.”