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Scaremonger (Mr Quixotic & Lait)

Kyle Evans, multiple murderer, and Afghanistan war veteran could not recall being so nervous since he'd been a fifteen year old high-school student, waiting to ask his future (ex) wife out on their first date, as he awaited the arrival of Azairah D'Amici. His attempts to concentrate on the television screen, and the fine print of the newspaper, had been so that he hadn't had to think of the 'what if' - What if she didn't come? -, and to allay his fears, though, of course, that hadn't worked. The man's belly was tied up in knots and throat constricted from the sensation of wanting to throw up when he spotted her.

The nerves remained as he watched every movement. Zai's attractiveness was already known to him, and his eyes instinctively roamed over the dress and her features as she removed her coat, and sat. However, it was a gaze of curiosity, and appraisal, rather than one which contained any threat, or sexual intent, and by the time she'd taken a seat, his blue eyes had locked on her brown ones. For what seemed an eternity, they held each others gaze, and Kyle attempted to gauge her inner thoughts, whilst composing what to say in his own head.

Jumbled sentences floated around, but didn't make their way to his lips. Then she smiled; probably the last thing Evan's had expected; and his nerves disappeared, and the man unexpectedly felt totally at ease. Possibly because she'd made herself comfortable, and hadn't pointed at him, and screamed the word, 'Murderer', as Police rushed him from all sides, which somewhere in the back of his thoughts, Kyle had considered a possibility.

The words slipped out easily, and not once did his tone raise above the level of conversational, or contain any hesitation or hint of self doubt. The Army veteran's unwavering gaze remained on hers until he'd finished, then he fell back in his seat; wanting Zai not to feel pressured, or as though he were invading her personal space. His eyes flicked up to check that were still alone, and couldn't be overheard, then he placed his hand on the half-full coffee mug in front of him, and allowed her to respond without interruption.

He could hear the pain and emotion in her voice, and even more-so than with their internet exchanges and the incident in the Police Interview room, it affected him. He averted his eyes to blink away a tear, and to swallow down the lump which had formed in his throat, and instinctively, a hand reached across the table; wanting to find hers, and provide a comforting squeeze. However, as he realised what he was doing, and how Zai may react to the touch of a man who had just recently brutally murdered a young woman, particularly given her experience with Cole Douglas, Kyle quickly dropped it to the wooden table, and instead shot her a small smile.

"I'm a man of my word, Azairah, and I promised I'd do it for you, however to be completely honest, it was as much for myself. Lisa, in my moral universe, deserved to die, and whether it was this week, or in a month's time, a year, I would have taken her life. My experience with you just hastened my actions." Kyle drew his hand back, and briefly flicked his attention to the television screen, to compose his thoughts. Then those blue eyes locked on the woman across from him once more. "I wish you could have been there to witness Cole's pain. However, it may have been for the best that you weren't." Kyle shrugged.

"The man has no empathy for others, and any emotions he felt will be quickly forgotten. The only way to truly get Cole Douglas to understand, is to inflict on him what he inflicted upon you. Physical and emotional trauma. A slow, lingering, and painful death. And the same for his friends. However, what of Brock Douglas?" Kyle tapped his fingers against the coffee table. "He's a beast, and a moral coward, but you know what Azairah? I think he should remain alive, so that he can carry the knowledge of the agony his only son endured, to his death bed, and forever bear the burden of the part he had to play. I believe I know what you want, and I'm certain I have from the moment my eyes met yours in that Interview room. You're not crazy."

This time, when his hand reached across, he laid it palm-up for her to take if she desired. "You only want the same as I, and it's not revenge, but justice. Without mercy. I, for the ex-wife who mocked me, and fell pregnant to another man; for the Mother who abandoned me as a child; for the females whose lack of empathy and selfishness can cause as much trauma, or more, than that any man is capable of; for the sluts and whores whose actions provide encouragement for Cole Douglas and his ilk to perpetrate their acts, and you, I believe, for the men who'd carry out those acts, and those who, by inaction, are just as culpable."

Kyle raised a querying eyebrow, curious to know if his intuition was correct, but then continued before she could answer. "I'll assist you, Zai. David Blyton, Max DeGraves, Ian Drummond, and Cole Douglas will die at our hands; and they will be made beg, plead, grovel, crawl, and cry and scream in agony. They'll be humiliated, degraded, and regret the day they were born." Kyle's voice, though still low, had gained an intensity which hadn't been there previously. "Would you enjoy that Zai? Would you plunge the knife into their bellies, carve the flesh from their bones, apply the flame to their skins and watch them burn? Alive? Or would that be too much?"

"I won't deny I enjoy it, and it won't be just those four. Could you cope with seeing women in pain? The one's that I believe merit the anguish and punishment that you wish to administer to Douglas and his friends. I'm glad you said that you were afraid of me, though truly you have no reason to be, but it proves your honesty, and though I have no intent to cause you harm, the same cannot be said of others of your sex. They should be afraid."

Kyle's eyes had darkened, almost to black. "Can you enjoy the killing, Zai, because as much as we both wish to take down those four, the death, particularly a torturous and brutal slaying, of one, will focus attention on those who may have reason, and that would lead to you. If you want to be directly involved in the application of their suffering, it will require careful planning, to ensure we are not arrested before we reach our ultimate goal; Cole Douglas; and I intend to continue my own work in the meantime. Men, women or both, it doesn't matter. Would you join my crusade, and allow me not to be just your saviour, but for the two of us to be the saviours of many?"
 
Once more Zai had listened to everything that'd left his lips. The more he spoke of taking the lives of others, the more it made her uncomfortable but she needed the 'practice'. If they were going to be a 'team' like he'd suggested then she would need to learn. Definitely a sick, wicked way to think of her situation but Zai had never so desperately wanted something like this in all her years of living and at least he didn't think she was crazy. One problem down, ninety-eight to go. It was too good to be true that Cole was upset about what happened. Kyle could have been doing the monster a favor by getting rid of what was holding him back. Allowing him all the freedom, and all the more reason for his list of potential 'women' to grow. He has his daddy's power in the palm of his hand and nothing could take that away from him other than taking his life. The thoughts all boiled in her head, storming silently as she listened intently to Kyle's daring and devious words. It'd been such a long time since someone hadn't looked at her like a rape victim and more like a human being. His eyes were inviting, yet searching for something in her just as she'd returned the same. The longer he stared the more she came to realize that she loved the idea. The violent taboo that stirred despite having planned motives and reasoning behind it.

Hearing that he'd murdered the woman for her specifically? There was no denying that her pride and ego that she'd held so dearly onto were slowly creeping their way back into her system to take their stolen crowns, as there was no doubt that suggested her manipulative nature would follow in suit. At heart, Azairah was a vindictive woman, vain, with an ego greedier than gluttony. Maybe she could have used that... There had to be some sort of team strategy here. Vanity and the Murderer. Another smile, lifting her spirits as Kyle reached out across the table for her came to her lips. Hesitating instantly, as it'd became a natural reaction over the period of time Zai continued. "Figures," she barked rolling her eyes, not angry with Kyle but angry at the fact that it just wasn't much of a loss for Cole. "At least you got yourself a kick out of it. They're both cowards. In fact I don't think the word coward covers it, but if you say he should remain alive then I'll be patient." It'd taken her a minute to realize that she was speaking as if she was going through with it- as if she was already a murderess addressing her murderer partner. The more she sat there, the more she spoke to Kyle even though it'd only been so few minutes, the more she felt like was like she returning to how she once was before and the more she realized that Kyle was no threat.

This man before her was indeed the person who was going to aid her.
To change her life.

Her gazed escaped his a moment more and averted to the hand that was laying palm up towards her. He's the only one. That was all she needed. Azairah removed her hand resting against her lap from under the table and first rubbed the back of her neck nervously before placing her warm hand into his. It made her shiver. It made her want to vomit, rip her hair out, scream and shout know that the hand was male but all such feelings subsided when she glanced up once more to meet a pair of blue eyes still staring, still searching... Kyle's. And for once, in such a long while, in a tremendous, agonizing amount of time, Azairah D'Amici felt at ease. "I'm sorry," she initiated once more. "I'm sorry you had to go through something like that with your ex-wife. Her hand wrapped around his, shifting the position enough for their palms to be touching and their fingers to have been entwined together; a pattern of caramel and white as new partnership formed. It'd been so long since she'd held the hand of another man in such a manner. Azairah parted her lips once more to continue on. "Women are so catty, so disgusting. Everything is a problem and honestly sometimes I'm ashamed I'm part of their 'species'. As if we didn't already didn't get enough from men, we get it from our own jealous, bitchy, whiny kind. It's a shame really."

-And finally Kyle had said it. He has said all that she needed to hear. 'I'll assist you' And he'd even taken it upon himself to use her nickname. A quiet, girlish giggle slipped. She'd only hoped he hadn't though Zai wasn't taking it seriously. All she'd done was cry and finally it was time to laugh. Kyle had allowed her this moment, so all she could do was soak it in. "They'll be more than just humiliated, Kyle. They'll do more than just regret being born, living the life they did and taking it for granted. I'll take everything from them. We will take everything from them and one by one, day after day, they can watch each other die... Unaware, Azairah squeezed his hand, her black polished, claw shaped nails digging just slightly into his skin. "Just like how they watch their best friend rape women constantly." Her hand trembled in his ever so gently. The emotions she felt towards those four people was indescribable and only something she could express physically. Physically hurting them... Like they'd done to her. "So you know what... Because I don't have anything to lose anymore... Yes, yes I would enjoy that more than you know."

A dark shadow had cast over them.
It was the joining of two storms, two battles becoming one. Azairah leaned forward loving his words, loving his pleasing they were to her ears. They were terrifying yes, threatening yes, menacing- and yet so filled with power. Filled with reassurance, and filled her to near suffocation as she managed to spit out, "Yes. I can enjoy it Kyle. If it's with you I can try enjoy it. I can try for you if you'll try for me. So yes... I will join you." It was a burst of emotions at once. A battle of the heart and the head telling her it was a great idea while the other had reconsidered all the possibilities and all the trouble she could have got in. Would it be worth it? Would it any of what Kyle had said to her have come true? Would she be wasting her time? Would she come to regret holding this man's hand?

Realizing that she'd been squeezing Kyle's hand too tightly, Zai abruptly released it, slipping her hand away to return it under the table. "Ah, sorry! I'm so sorry." The innocence had returned to her eyes as she wiped her hand against her dress subtly. It was habit that would take time to break and she was sure Kyle could break it with patience... Azairah sighed, looking away out towards the window at the darkening city. "So who are we saving first?"
 
Kyle's eyes lightened when he finished speaking, and he glanced at the hand which had reached out of its own accord to offer itself to Zai's as a sense of anticipation, mingled with foreboding, coursed through his veins. Under the table, a foot tapped against the floor, soft enough so as not to make any noise. What he'd just told the woman across from him was the first time the admission of what he did, and that he gained pleasure from the depraved acts, had ever passed his lips. He'd offered her what he believed she desired; an opportunity to exact retribution on her attackers; but in addition he'd offered possibly much more than she'd expected. To become an active participant, of her free own free will, in ongoing acts of premeditated torture and murder of human beings who hadn't directly harmed her. Even if they were to be carried out on those each felt had earned it, how would she react to the proposal?

All Zai had to do was say the word, 'Yes' and the world would change instantly for both of them. For better, or worse, to be decided in the future. He stared directly into her eyes, and attempted to pierce her soul with his gaze. The first thing he noted was the smile which appeared on her face, and his body lost some of the tension which had caused the muscles of his back and neck to knot, and shoot pain up his spine. Then she took his hand, and before she spoke, Kyle Evan's knew what the answer was going to be. Their fingers entwined, and the pads of Kyle's tingled with the warmth of her caramel skin against his, and he gently squeezed her hand in reassurance. Anyone who glanced over may have thought they were lovers, or possibly long-lost friends reunited. However, the cafΓ© had emptied, and Kyle had politely shooed away the waitress who'd approached to see if Zai wished for a drink, so there was no-one to look. It was just the two of them, alone, about to seal the deal of the Devil.

The Army Veteran remained silent until she was done, hand resting in hers. His eyes narrowed and briefly averted at the mention of his wife, and the pressure of his grip increased momentarily, until he breathed deeply, refocused on Zai, and nodded silently in a gesture of appreciation for her sympathy, and an indication for her to continue. Once again, her passion and agony broke through his defences, and goose bumps formed on his arms. Her hatred for Cole Douglas was almost a physical presence, and Kyle believed from what he'd come to know of Zai, that she was strong enough to back up her words. Then came what he'd been waiting for.

"Yes. I can enjoy it Kyle. If it's with you I can try enjoy it. I can try for you if you'll try for me. So yes... I will join you."

The force with which her nails dug into his skin caused him to wince, then suddenly her touch left, and his eyes shot down to where his palm lay face up on the wood, before they moved to watch Zai wipe hers on her dress. Kyle smiled softly, and inclined his head. The man's voice took on a tone of concern and empathy; so different from that of just a few minutes earlier, when he'd spoken of murder. "There's nothing to apologise for, Zai." He assumed the 'sorry' had related to the scratch of her nails into his skin, but as he held her eyes, he hoped she'd comprehend he referred to her subsequent actions, and that he understood the reasons behind it. The touch of a man.

"We've both been through hell. As my ex-wife isn't the only woman in my life who's betrayed me, I'm certain that Cole and his ilk are not the only ones to have hurt you." Kyle raised a querying eyebrow as he rested his elbows on the table, however it wasn't a question he expected to be answered. If his intuition was correct, and Zai wished to confide further in him, he'd allow her to do so at her own pace, and at her own time. His lips curled in a mirthless smile, and then he sighed. "Sometimes those who are meant to love you, are responsible for the greatest suffering, and as to who's worse? I think women more adept at emotional torture, and men physical." Kyle shrugged, then repeated her final question. "So who are we saving first?"

His fingers tapped against the porcelain coffee mug, and his eyes flicked to the television, but his vision remained unfocused, as he gathered his thoughts, then followed Zai's gaze to the darkening city, and blackness of night which was soon to come. "I don't select my targets, Azairah, they select me. A word, a glance, an action, observation, conversation, the expression in their eyes. With those such as Douglas and his cohorts, you just know. The street-walkers, and prostitutes are safe, as are the homeless and down-trodden. They're simply victims of circumstance, as are we." Kyle leaned across the table, Zai's features in profile with her head turned towards the window.

"What I search for are those who do have an option, and are aware of the possible consequences of their actions. As to who is saved, that will always remain the great unknown, but that an innocent will be relieved of future pain and emotional suffering, there is no doubt. Tomorrow night, in the clubs and bars of Rome, we'll find our target. Man or woman, it could be either, but I want you to partake in the killing, and become accustomed to the administering of pain, for when it comes time for Douglas and his friends to receive their due, I want you to have no hesitation, remorse or pity, and to be able to fully revel in their agony and degradation. As to how we achieve that end, without bringing ourselves to the attention of the Law, I have some ideas."

Evans paused, and when he spoke again, his voice had lowered to a whisper, and the timbre contained a seductive quality. "Don't be afraid of the clubs, or the crowds, Azairah. There's no need to be frightened any more, not now that you have me. This is our purpose. Tomorrow night, will you help choose?"
 
At the end of the day, everyone had a reason for the actions they made. Every action had a thought process and every thought occurred by something caused in their daily lives. Things didn't happen for no particular reason and it was no different for ordinary individuals like the two of them. Though, if there were to be a difference it was that Kyle had plans which had goals which meant something needed to be accomplished. Azairah wasn't sure what part of their whole rendezvous scared her the most. Meeting a man she knew absolutely nothing about, meeting a man who'd killed a woman just the so few hours prior to their meeting or agreeing to becoming his accomplice that aided in these murderous inclinations. For once her heart pounded hard against her chest. The nerves were picking up, yet she agreed. Why? Well it was obvious that Cole Douglas needed a kind reminder that someone would call him out on his fake 'get out of jail free' card. Zai specifically being that someone. Listening carefully to Kyle speak was when she realized just how serious it was. He was serious and it scared her even more. "Oh yes, trust me, there are many, many people who could use 'saving' that have come and gone in my life... But I think i would much prefer to keep those chapters past me." Though in all of her anxious, fearfulness, excitement filled her and it pierced the very bottom of her gut. Raising her arms and propping them up against the table before her, Azairah too leaned in, resting her chin against the top of her hands. "I'll give credit where credit is due...," she began in a low feminine whisper. "You do have a way with persuading." Or maybe it was because he'd caught Azairah at such vulnerable timing. Either way it was hook, line and sinker. With sultry half-lidded eyes that were clouded by her pure, unfiltered hate, Azairah couldn't help but return her natural sexual nature .

"So yes, I'll help," she gently cooed again in reassurance. It made her stomach hurt. The thought of killing another human being... The question was could she do it? But it was like Kyle said... 'This was their purpose' Fuck. What ever could have made her even think of going through with it....? Azairah hated even thinking about it, but it was already done. The two of them were already tangled within each others web the minute Kyle sent her the first message and she replied. Another smile eased it way onto her face and lurking behind that cunning smile was a woman who'd come realize just how evil she was. It was funny... The longer she gazed at Kyle, her darling little blue eyed murderer the more she realized just how ever so slightly attractive he was. The way he looked at her as if searching for something she'd kept hidden deep inside. It was funny just how beckoning the idea of becoming 'saviors' was. Though the correct term would have probably been exterminators. "Well," she started softly once more, pushing herself back against the wooden seat. "If targets, or rather victims choose us, then we'll just have to lurk the streets of Rome first, no?"

It saved Azairah from a stressed night of no sleep knowing she was the one who had to decide on who they were going to 'save'. Glancing over yet again out the window then to the approaching waitress, it was clear that it was time to for them to part ways. Azairah understood and prepared to grab her bag and coat from off the chair and stood. It was evident Kyle has left an interesting impression on her more so because she didn't hate the living shit out of him. In fact it was just the opposite. Azairah... liked him in fact. He was interesting, he kept her guessing, he wasn't an open book. There was just something about those blue eyes of his that she kept finding herself getting momentarily lost in. They were clearly dangerous, yet searching for something, or possibly someone and the further she looked into them more she found herself lost. That would be a problem... Pulling her coat back around her shoulders and around her petite form and allowing Kyle to gather what he brought with him, they were shooed quickly out of the quaint cafe. Night had long fallen upon them and yet again in another so few hours they would have reunited only with the stain of blood on their hands. Azairah sighed onto the chilly night air, attempting to avoid that blue gaze even in the dark of night. It was inevitable... Her browns found his blues and as they met a striking sternness filled them.

"Kyle," she suddenly began. She spoke his name softly before looking away. "I'm really depending on you. I've let down so many walls just for you because I believe you're an exception. You've proved to me that there are exceptions. Please," she whispered just almost begging. "Please... don't disappoint me. Don't crush what little, fragile hope I've put into you. Into this, even if it's not much." That was the last thing she wanted. Another 'man' ruining what she had left of herself. Pulling her keys from her coat pocket and contemplating on giving him a hand shake or something letting him know that there was at least someone in the world who he could call a companion but Azairah instead stuffed her hands into her pockets and turned away nervously. Way to make things more awkward than they already were. "I guess... I'll see you tomorrow. If you find it okay we can meet in downtown Rome. Where the main shopping district is. I would assume that's a suitable enough place." Finally after giving him a nod of confirmation, she turned away and toward her car left alone in the small parking lot

'What are you getting yourself into?'
'What are you getting yourself into?'
'What are you getting yourself into?'


But it was okay.
He was going to help her.
Kyle was going to help her get back at that monster with her.
She wasn't alone anymore.
That's all that mattered.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Her home was silent.
The television off, the ticking of the clock echoing in the back of her head, the faucet leaking water every so often. Azairah sat in the dull and darkness of her home only waiting. Only waiting, ever waiting, patiently waiting... A gentle sigh pushed past her lips as she sat in her computer chair, legs up and arms hugging her body in a loose, white tank top and sleep shorts. It was excruciating minute after minute, hour after hour of yet again another sleepless night. She was painstakingly tired and it showed. It was the first time in a long time that Azairah had a nightmare. Vivid visions of Cole, twisting into her attacker those few nights ago. Her chest hurt, her throat dry and yet she couldn't get herself to get up and have a glass of water. What if someone was there waiting for her behind the counter? Waiting to rape her again... It was already long past dawn. The sun attempting to settle it's way over a dark, clouded sky but could find no passage. It was going to be one of those days. How conveniently appropriate. In the silence of her home, Zai replayed the events that happened in the cafe. "You have to kill someone tonight. You have to do it. It's the only way you'll be able to get back at Cole Douglas and his pig of a father," she recited to herself. "You can do it. Don't think just do. Don't think about it just do it. Just do it..." She strong voice died into a shaky whisper as she tried to convince herself she could make whatever was going to happen tonight, happen. That she could carry it out. So much for threatening Kyle not to disappoint her.

No there was no way she could have given up so quickly. Cole Douglas had to pay. Cole Douglas needed to be saved and only then would Azairah forgive him for what he did. Forgive him only when she's made him realize what wrong he's done, when she's made him come to terms with himself. When she's made him understand all the wrong he'd ever commit and how there'd come a day where he'd have to pay for it, where the lovely lady called Karma would come for him in a vile, evil form. A form called Azairah. She could only imagine and think how she'd savor the moment. It was those sort of thoughts that fueled her, that allowed her to push past the human and rational part of her and allow the corrupt and evil to settle. No more playing push over. No more allowing the men in the Garden that was Eden to do as freely as they wanted. They needed a threat. Just a warm, friendly little nudge that death had looked them in the eyes one too many times and let pass.

By the time she managed to shower, curl her hair, touch up on some make up so she looked more like a darling murderess and not a sleep deprived zombie, it was already late into the evening. She'd sent Kyle a message apologizing for not setting a time and specific place and sent over to meet her at 'Colosseum' a downtown shopping district that was always crowded with obnoxious tourists, high nosed shoppers and ordinary others passing. Figuring since she'd kept him waiting for her at the cafe, it was only right for her to go early and wait for him. Leaving her home in yet another black very low V neck dress, Azairah zipped down the regular road and as she left her home she left with a nervous confidence. Play the part and get the job done. Make all the men that had ever stared as her like she was a piece of meat they wanted to defile feel like the biggest pieces of living shit. Easy.

By the time she'd made it across town, night had once more fallen and the night-goers had awaken from their morning slumber. Lively bodies marched the streets of Rome as she parked her car in a lot far from Colosseum and the rest of the way was made on foot. She tried to apply what Kyle had said to her the night before. 'A word, a glance, an action, observation, conversation, the expression in their eyes.' Zai thought of this as she made her way down the long crowded street to their selected destination.​
 
Kyle's pupils had narrowed and darkened from the intensity of his own emotions. It had been so long since he'd sat across the table from a woman, and simply engaged in conversation; that was, without the intention of causing her to scream and cry in pain, and beg for her life, as he apportioned blame to her for every vile and disgusting act of emotional betrayal perpetrated on him by her kind. As he spoke to Zai of murder, and the connection between their pain, the man sensed another, deeper connection. The woman's expression, and her deep brown eyes, though still filled with hatred, exuded a previously unseen sensuality and become something more than just a gateway to the pits of hell that he'd viewed them as at the Station, and in his nightmares.

What that connection was, Kyle couldn't define, nor whether he searched for something that didn't exist, however a sudden longing hit him that reminded him of the one he'd once held for Amy, and her smile sent a shiver of warmth down his spine. Not least for the fact that it was the first time he'd ever seen Azairah D'amici smile; even though the context of the conversation that elicited it, if overheard, would likely have resulted in them swiftly being surrounded by men in white coats, and transported to the closest asylum. One person's crazy was another's sanity, and Kyle knew what he was.

"Persuasive, yes, you could say that." Kyle relaxed, and his countenance transformed to that of the reliable, friendly, and sometimes even charming man who caused no trouble for anyone as he flicked his gaze to the television screen, which unceasingly relayed images of a previously bright, intelligent and personable cheerleader who'd died at his hands, and was now nothing but decomposing flesh, and the family who grieved for her. Persuasive, indeed. "I don't want to pressure you, Zai or force you into a situation that you can't live with, or will regret, but you've already murdered once, and seen a woman die at your request. It becomes easier, it becomes natural. It helps." Kyle closed his mouth before he expressed to Azairah, after a while, just how enjoyable it had become, not only to soothe the suffering, but in and of itself. The power to exert control over life and death was something to behold.

"Rome it is, Eden is too close knit, and the concentration of people is much greater there." As she'd shifted, the murderer had also prepared himself to depart. He finished the dregs of what remained in the coffee mug, removed his wallet from a pocket, and threw down a ten dollar bill; a nice tip for the waitress; then stood with her, and was once against struck with how small and petite she was, and how different from the other women who flaunted and displayed their bodies, and craved male attention so bad they'd allow their morals to be stripped away even faster than their panties. Momentarily Kyle wondered if Azairah D'Amici was aware of her own attractiveness, and when the last time was a man had properly held her. However, he swiftly swept those musings at the recollection of Cole Douglas, and as the pleading, pained tone of her request, flooded his conscience.

"I promise, Zai." He almost reached out to squeeze her shoulder in reassurance as they faced each other with eyes locked, but resisted, and kept his arms by his sides. Kyle sensed in Zai a confusion that matched his. What were they? Friends, partners, colleagues, acquaintances? Did they have anything in common except bloodlust? "You're aware of who I am, the acts I've committed, what I am capable of, and I've been honest with you from the beginning. I can't say why, but you're part of my purpose, my reason to live. Tomorrow evening, downtown Rome, we start our journey."

The solitary figure remained on the pavement, in the darkness, hands stuffed in his pockets, and motionless, watching her until she disappeared from sight. "Take care."

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Unlike Azairah, the requirement to work the next day allowed Kyle to focus on something other than the looming events of that night, although the rendezvous with Zai never strayed far from his thoughts.

Time passed quickly, the highlight being the performance of Cole Douglas, when he'd stormed into Police Headquarters, and demanded an update on the investigation into his girlfriend's brutal death. It remained all about him, Cole Douglas, High School football hero, and God's gift to women. How the fuck could anywhere dare to do that. To him. He'd kill the bastard and rip his balls off. The College student had continued to unrelentingly direct his anger at the Deputies, until finally, his Father had appeared, and marched him into his office.

Not once since Lisa's murder had Zai's name been mentioned in relation to the case, and that provided Kyle comfort. She had ceased to exist in their consciousness, a weak woman who'd scurried away with her tail between her legs once advised of the facts of life by the great and influential Sheriff Brock Douglas, future Mayor of Eden, never to seen nor heard of again. Kyle smiled to himself as he departed the station at the same moment as a chastened Cole, and sauntered to his vehicle, on the way home to change, and then to meet a woman who possessed a true inner strength and determination that, hopefully, the young man would come to experience for himself.

Kyle dressed in a pair of black jeans, and a light blue navy buttoned shirt, and a denim jacket which fit snugly around his broad shoulders, however hovered loosely over his torso. With the top three buttons done up, the bulge of the inner pockets, which contained a butterfly knife, can of lighter fluid, and a ball of strong twine, amongst other items, was invisible to the naked eye when he spotted Zai, and stopped to appraise the low-cut V-neck dress that highlighted her physique, and the body that lay under it. However, his attention swiftly returned to her face. There were many other good-looking women, and what set this one apart was not her looks or her body, but what was inside her. Azairah D'Amici was what had attracted him to Azairah D'Amici, and his gaze remained up as approached her from in front so that she wouldn't be startled by his sudden presence.

"Hi Zai" Despite a growing anticipation of what the night ahead was to hold, that had his nerve-endings on fire, and senses on high-alert, Kyle made every effort to keep his demeanour calm and collected, and shot her a smile when he stopped barely a foot away. Did he need to mention their purpose? Kyle didn't think so. "When's the last time you enjoyed a night out, and a dance or two, possibly a glass of wine? I know a Club." He spoke casually, and inclined his head towards a shop front about three hundred yards away, around which milled young women in high heels and short dresses, with their tits hanging out and faces caked in makeup, being eyed-up like treats in a candy-store by groups of rowdy male youths reminiscent of Cole Douglas and his cohorts, and a couple of older males in business attire. Most likely married men who'd escaped their wives' for a night, and were on the prowl for younger pussy.

"I won't allow you out of my sight for even one second." Kyle encouraged when his gaze refocused on Zai, and he offered his hand for her to grasp, and motioned for her to take the lead. The Club was the perfect hunting ground, where prey would find them, and whether that be man or woman, Kyle wasn't certain, but of one thing he was. By dawn, the world would contain one less piece of scum. "Don't be frightened, it's what we both need."
 
Coming only with a small Lockback knife that was tucked away inside her dress under her arm and money that was warmly slipped between her ample, soft, breasts all Azairah could do was wait. Wait and hope that Kyle hadn't left her hanging. So far he'd proven otherwise. Showing up at the cafe was already already a plus and hearing his assurance that he would have showed up that night fueled her to believe he really would. Lucky for them the night wasn't too chilly, despite the depressing weather, Mother Nature had given them all day. Never far from her thoughts was were her soon arriving partner rested. Every part of him was interesting, from the way he spoke to the way he thought. Azairah found herself smiling for no reason. Well there was obviously a reason but she wouldn't dare say. He was in her system. He was making her see things differently, 'logically'.

Seeing the tall, charming, casually dressed Kyle coming towards her from across the street caused her face to light up with relief that he showed up in general. Azairah pushed herself forward from her leaning position against the building. It was weird... Smiling came so much more naturally for her with Kyle than it ever had with anyone else. Zai couldn't put her finger on what it was but it was a strangely enlightening feeling. Smiling warmly she acknowledged Kyle with a nod before filling the small gap between them as she dusted off her back. "Hi Kyle," her gentle voice sang. Running her fingers through her perfectly styled hair a few times to make sure it was still in place, she lowered her hands and laughed to his next question. "Wow." Attempting to think back to the last time someone had taken her out for anything was a struggle. It was years ago with an old boyfriend who's memory of brought back bitter feelings. Sucking in a breath, holding it a moment then releasing Zai shook her head. "Literally years ago. I wouldn't even call it enjoyable. He was on his phone the whole night. I actually very much hate people now so the thought of going out it always iffy with me. Well I guess I shouldn't say I hate people? I hate their stupidity, the ignorance, the obliviousness."

Her eyes followed in the direction to where Kyle had nodded off too and immediately she couldn't think of any place probably more perfect than that. The obnoxious youths screaming about how they were excited and how wasted they were going to get, laughing, buzzing with happiness while gluttonous, ogling swines in suits looked for an escape for the night. Lying to their wives about how busy it was at the office and how they wouldn't make it home til late. The thought alone made her sick. Her attention averted back to Kyle who then extended his hand to her .
That familiar hand. The only hand she ever really desired personally to hold in a long while because within it's grasp was reassurance. Within it's grasp was power. The power to give and the power to take. The owner of that hand had more than once gazed at her- had found her eyes and told her with them that he wasn't out to get her. Because of that she took it and that was the only reason she took it because she still knew nothing about the man. It'd taken her all day to accept that fact. That it was okay for Kyle to touch her... to an extent. So it was just what she did. Azairah slipped her warm hand into his as her plump, dark purple lips pulled once more into a smile. The temperature difference of their hands was nice, calming what nerves had managed to stir up when he approached forcing her to remember their purpose. Azairah watched as she hesitantly crossed their fingers together, a light tan and deeper caramel pattern while reminding herself not to dig her claw like nails into his poor hand this time. "I won't hurt you this time, I promise," she said teasingly. Taking the lead and crossing the street with Kyle in hand, together they joined the quick moving line of bodies at the door.
Something was off. Really off. Not that it was with Kyle... It was a feeling she'd felt before which had lead her to a very shame filled demise.

'It okay. You do your job and you move on like nothing happened.'
'In. Kill. Out.'
'It what we both need.'
'You've done it already. Just do it again.'
'Kyle's there to cover up your tracks.'


Before them in line was a couple of girls, all obviously were underage by their choice of teenage speech but looking for a good time and before them a small group of four guys and (un)fortunately for Azairah her eyes locked on a dark pair. He was taller than the three others he stood with, with a hard, weathered face. By Azairah's standards he was easily trash just like every other male she'd encountered up until then. As he spoke to his friends his eyes never let up and Azairah had done the same. Though her eyes were the furthest thing from inviting; in fact Azairah almost- just almost felt sorry for him. Poor guy was looking death right in it's beautiful, vixenish face. Breaking the glare, Azairah couldn't help but snicker and smile yet again. Her smile was so far from warm, so far from pleasant, oh so far from affectionate like she'd given Kyle up until then. It was menacing, lingering with heinous evil. Those once soft, dreamy, sensual brown eyes had quickly changed into the darkest pits of hell. A word among his friend was exchanged and one by one the three of them had turned as casually as possible to glance over in Kyle and Azairah's direction. Yet all Azairah could see was his face. Cole Douglas' face. Those hideous, angry green eyes that were clouded by nothing but his obnoxious ego.
"You know what Kyle?" she began. Her lips moved slow her poisonous words spilled from her mouth. "I think I'll be alright tonight. The more I try and think less of Cole Douglas..." Turning her head and glancing up at Kyle. Azairah's calm demeanor was subtly burning with anger. Fuming with the fact that the man in line with his four friends had gawked at her the way Cole Douglas and his friends had that same night. She was pissed because she knew that the man in line, who was still staring at her even though she'd broken their momentary glance was already mentally thinking of how he was going to 'bag' Azairah tonight, and it pissed. her. off. Azairah rested the side of her face against her dear accomplices' arm for a short moment. "The more I see him in everyone and everything..." But then lifting her head and turning enough to face Kyle's side, she got up on the tips of her toes and pressed her soft, dark purple lips to his ear. "...and the more I just want to destroy him..." she warmly whispered into his ear.

She needed this.

And here all this time Azairah thought it was going to be a hassle trying to find what she was looking for. It was then she remembered all the rage she'd put into every email trying to get Kyle to understand how hurt she was. It was then she remembered how she had to burn her jacket the final day Cole Douglas had touched her down at the police station. It was then that she remembered why Kyle killed Lisa Sharp for her. Cole needed to feel pain. The same pain she felt. It was like she was a whole different person, a devil in the flesh, a murderess in the making. Her vindictive qualities weren't new, certainly not. Having spoken with Kyle those few times only made her realize how deeply buried she'd managed to keep it all just so she could play nice with everyone. " I can't wait Kyle," she continued as the line quickly moved. "We've barely even started and I can't wait till..." She grit her teeth a moment, sighing before resting her forehead against his shoulder. "-till I have him in the same pain he put me through... the same humiliation." The line had finally moved again , Azairah's chosen victim making it inside of the noisy club and the two of them entering just nearly after. Azairah held tightly onto Kyle's hand to not get separated. Yes, Azairah had a sudden burst of confidence but if Kyle wasn't there then it was just about pointless.

Pushing past a a tightly crowded bunch of people while trying to avoid as much contact as possible, Azairah dragged her precious companion to the bar, gathering her emotions and letting that cool exterior find it's way out once again. "Lets have a toast," she said turning and facing the tall male. "A toast for uniting for this lovely occasion, and a toast for already finding the poor soul I've already chosen to save."
 
Seeing Zai smile again brought a warmth to Kyle the man hadn't experienced in a long, long time, and his eyes remained locked on hers, after he'd asked about the club, to gauge her reaction. His expression contained a softness that belied the fact that he was a cold-blooded murderer, and that they were on a mission that would end in the brutal loss of life for one of the unsuspecting mass who stood outside the bar, in search only of a good time. However, it was no less than they'd deserve. There existed no innocent's.

The man squeezed the petite hand that grasped his, glad for the trust the gesture indicated. That Zai had suffered well before the incident with Cole Douglas had been obvious to Kyle, and her response confirmed it. It also piqued his curiosity, and elicited a desire to understand Azairah, and to hear about her childhood, her adolescence, and how she'd been transformed into the woman she'd become. However, the queries could wait, and hopefully the answers would spring naturally as their relationship progressed. The ex-army veteran was briefly transported back to when he and Amy had married, and before his initial deployment. When he'd been happy, and his life, normal. It was too late to reclaim that now, but he sensed, with Zai, that it was possible to at least rediscover a little of hat previous contentment. "I don't get out much, either."

He followed her gaze, and appraised the bystanders one-by-one; immature, adolescent girls who flaunted their bodies, and males, both youthful and not, who stared at those very same girls as if they already owned them, and to whom they unceasingly directed crude and disrespectful sexual innuendoes. The pack mentality at its' finest. "People piss me off." Kyle smiled as his eyes returned to Zai's. "The majority, anyway. Those who lack moral fibre and, who unlike us, the conscience to have ever expressed true remorse. They will."

That she led without complaint or hesitation encouraged Kyle, and a rare unaffected laugh escaped his lips at her humorous comment when her nails dug into his hand. "I'm tough, so hold on as tight as you wish." Kyle retained hidden doubts beneath his calm demeanour on whether Zai was truly capable of committing a calculated and premeditated murder, but each word, gesture and exchange of eye contact had begun to ease his concerns.

When they arrived at the entrance, Kyle noted him immediately. The youth stood taller than his companions, and the cocky smirk painted across his features was one the killer had witnessed many times prior, as was the manner in which he appraised Zai, even though she accompanied another man, and pointed her out to his friends as if to request approval of his choice. The stranger wasn't Cole Douglas, but they were of the same ilk, and Kyle instinctively perceived he was the chosen one, well before Azairah subsequently confirmed it, and he averted his gaze when the stranger's focus briefly landed on him.

The Army veteran was a good-looking man, who could draw attention, and on occasion intimidate with a stare, but his military training had also taught him how to remain invisible, and Kyle intended, that evening, to be just another face in the crowd, and had selected this particular club because it contained no security cameras. Eyewitness accounts were notoriously unreliable, and all patrons would be able to recall would be a nondescript male, and a slight, attractive female, surely incapable of committing such a heinous and brutal crime as that which occurred.

He exchanged a look with Zai, and nodded in understanding at the fury evident in her expression, and mention of her nemesis, "We'll get to Cole, Azairah, his cohorts, and to anyone they've ever loved, and we'll return your humiliation ten-fold," then moved a hand to small of her back, and shivered when her warm breath floated next to his ear. In contrast to the content of the words, the tone was seductive, and a small smile crept on to his face at the knowledge that young Mr Douglas had no concept of the steam train headed in his direction. Kyle flicked one final glance over his shoulder at the tall youth, then followed Zai into the club.

"A toast to death, and to life. A new one for the both of us." Kyle clinked his glass against hers after he'd purchased both a wine, motioned for Zai to take a place on a stool, seated himself on the one adjacent, and swiveled to face her. He ensured he kept some distance between them, not because he didn't wish to be close, but because the male had entered, and continued to stare at his companion. Kyle didn't want to provide any reasons for the guy to believe they were a couple-in-love, and stop him from signing his own death warrant as he turned the conversation to inconsequential matters in attempt to relax any nerves Zai held.

However, as he attempted to converse, a set of grey eyes unrelentingly appraised Zai as if she were a piece of meat on a hook, and Kyle decided it time to act whilst the prey sniffed around close to the trap. "He's devouring you with his eyes, it's now or never." He whispered under his breath. "We need to draw him outside. To your car if possible. If you can't carry it through or have doubts, I'll understand, however, if you can, reapply your lipstick as a sign that you're about to leave, and trust that I'll never be further than a hundred feet away." He held her eyes for a moment to ensure she comprehended, "Remember Cole Douglas," before his features swiftly changed to an expression of anger, and he stood, slammed his drink down on the counter, and stalked away. A performance for an audience of one.

"She's all yours buddy. Bitch." Kyle hissed in the stranger's ear as he pushed past him, and didn't even bother to stop and see if the other man took the bait, as he headed across the dance floor, ostensibly towards the bathrooms.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adam Hunter required no further encouragement. Even if the girl had still been accompanied by her boyfriend, or whoever the asshole was - probably some loser she now regretted hooking up with -, another drink or two would soon have provided him the Dutch courage to approach her regardless. A touch of fortune would have also led to him, with the assistance of his friends, of course; first beating her companion to a pulp.

The twenty-three year old was pissed, and on a mission after being dumped by his girlfriend two days earlier. He'd pretended not to give a shit, and came out for a night on the town in order to feed his ego, and demonstrate his ability to cope without her, by finding and fucking some hot pussy and, in the tight body in the black dress, he'd located a slut his friends would be envious of. Hopefully, word would get back to his whore of an ex. The moment Kyle passed, Adam, dressed in a pair of blue denim jeans, and a white open necked shirt that displayed the gold necklace hung around his neck and highlighted the labourer's defined abs and taut stomach, smirked at his friends, and then sauntered to the bar.

He ordered a beer, then when it was delivered, lifted Kyle's empty stool and placed it closer to the woman, subtly positioned so that she couldn't easily escape past him, and fell into it. "Pussy couldn't handle you, huh?" Adam arched a brow, then lowered his gaze to unabashedly appraise the woman's tits, before he raised it back to her face, and smiled. "His loss, my gain."

It wasn't exactly the most charming and original pick-up line that had ever been spoken, but that didn't concern Adam Hunter. If the bitch didn't consent to accompany him to his apartment, then he'd just screw her in the alleyway outside. After all, women always wanted it, even when they claimed otherwise, and why else would she be there, dressed to impress, if not on the prowl for cock? "What's your name, baby?""
 
It was painfully obvious how hard he was staring. It was so terrible she could feel his feasting to the point where it made it impossible to converse with her dear counterpart. It was disgusting, absolutely atrocious and just downright sickening but Azairah would have to put up with it for the remainder of the night. Just a couple hours before it was all over for him... It wouldn't be much longer before he was nothing but cold bones rattling in the streets for Rome. There was no way she would ruin this for Kyle. There was no way she's revert back to seeming like a helpless, scared little woman. Not soon, not ever and not when Kyle put his trust into her. Kyle so easily reminded her of the ultimate goal she hung to savagely onto. As the other set the stage and escorted himself away after giving the details of their purpose, Azairah sat alone just for a moment, sipping her drink silently before the stool was pulled from it's place. Her stomach twisted and finally the show began. Azairah set the wine glass down, pushing it away from her before turning only her head in the direction of the voice. Sleek, brown eyes had sized the male, thinking for a moment of where she'd make her first mark. Her first cut. Her first kill. Neck? Azairah could clearly see a nice thick vein extruding from his meaty neck. Her eyes roamed further down his abdomen. Heart? The pumping organ would be too quick of a kill... After all, Azairah wanted to make sure he suffered enough to get the message across, to question why it was happening to him, why had these saviors had decided on him?
Because he had decided on her.

"Hmm, attractive and a mind reader. Not that it's new. Most men can't handle me anyways." It was her chance, her time, her kill. Whatever disgust she had was what fueled her... It was what fueled her to make every action she chose that night. Turning just slightly in her stool, aware of the way he barricaded her- a gesture she'd seen one too many times before, she uncross one leg and recrossed the opposite over the other, allowing her dress to ride up just enough to expose her smooth, thick, caramel thighs. "Let me guess," she began again, leaning over and pressing her soft lips to his ear. Her small hands pressed to the males toned, shapely chest. Her voice was nothing but a erotic purr. "Your gain because your cock is the size of your arm and you're just dying- ," she said moaning the word softly. "-To shove it into my tight, little pussy..?" The thought alone of attempting to have sex, no less with someone who reminded her of nothing but Cole Douglas brought a relentless nausea to the pit of her stomach but her poker face remained. Still sexy, still inviting and still her little pig dared to enter the slaughter house. This was exactly what Azairah D'Amici desired. The chance to make them want and need and crave and ache for her- place their egos on a pedestal of the finest gold, tell them how amazing and godly they were, egg them on with the thought of touching her, with the thought of piercing her body in a vigorous fuck-
______________________________ and then ever so mercilessly take it and watch them crumble like Kings always do.

Azairah kissed the side of his face, pulling back before running her fingers tenderly over the tops of her breasts to push her long, dark tre sses away from her face. Playing her part well was the least she could do. But his next question caught her off guard. A question she feared he'd ask her. Her name. What if things didn't go as planned? What if he got away and was able to report them? What if there was evidence? Sure Azairah had been a distance memory of the Eden police but the minute word came that she was a suspect in the murder of this young man, they'd remember exactly who she was and once again give them a reason to humiliate her. "Claire," she blurted out coyly, a conversation beside her of a girl named Claire saving her for the moment. "Call me Claire, baby. And who do I have the pleasure of talking to?" she question just as she lifted a hand. Her long, slender fingers traced delicately from the males' jawline, extending down just over his neck- over the vein and down along his robust chest. "You know, now that I see you up close, you're sexier than I thought," she encouraged as a pernicious smile followed soon after.​
 
The woman's reaction when Adam brought his gaze up from her cleavage to her face had him grinning. A slut. Not the type of girl he'd usually date, but then he hadn't approached her with that intent in mind, but simply as a female in possession of warm, tight holes to be fucked, and a way to prove to both himself and his friends that the recent relationship breakup was Kate's loss. For that purpose, she was perfect. Although he'd seen bigger tits.

The twenty-three year old took a long draught of beer as grey eyes locked on seductive, deep-brown. Little could he realise that beneath the warm façade she projected, the woman brimmed with disgust and hatred, and that his evening would end not in ecstasy, but unimaginable pain, horror and depravity. "Hung like a horse, and I'll screw that tight pussy so many times, you won't be able to walk for a week." Adam smirked, and simultaneously shivered at the sensation of her hot breath one his skin as lifted a large hand to cover the smaller one that had pressed to his chest, and slid it down the fabric so that she'd feel the toned, muscled torso underneath. "Hope you like it rough."

If she wanted to tease before they got down to business, Adam was happy to oblige. However, he swiftly found this woman; so seductive, confident, and into a man she'd barely met; to be poles apart from every other random hook-up prospect he'd ever approached, and his patience swiftly diminished. The crotch of his jeans tightened further around a burgeoning erection with each whisper, and his mind ran amok with possibilities; the horny slut would probably take it up the ass without him having to resort to force or coercion. The man was unable to peel his gaze away as she continued to feed his ego, and believed every word she spoke. When it came down to selecting a mate, even if only for a night, women were as shallow as men, and it was why he maintained his physique as he did. The eagerness and compliments were no less than his efforts deserved.

"Adam." He provided his name without bothering to acknowledge hers - he'd only asked because he assumed it expected - and lowered a palm to rest on a patch of thigh, so conveniently revealed, as he nipped the tip of a finger that caressed his jaw. The woman was one sexy bitch, and he was certain she'd be even more wild once they were alone. "Hot enough to have you dripping already?" Adam arched a brow, and briefly slipped his hand under her dress, between her legs, as if seeking the answer to his query before he withdrew his touch and pirouetted to shoot a grin and thumbs-up at his friends. When they returned the gestures, he finished his beer, placed the empty glass on the counter, stepped from his stool, and refocused on Claire. "Let's go, before I bend you over the bar, and fuck you right here. Got a car?"

The only intelligent decision Adam had made that evening was to not drink and drive.

For Azairah and Kyle, a vehicle was one less piece of evidence to dispose of.

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Across the dance-floor, Kyle stood, strategically placed, invisible to the passing crowd, and able to watch the interaction between Zai and the stranger. He didn't need to be able to hear the conversation to follow the tone, and a faint smile played across his lips as Azairah enticed the fly into her web. All doubt had now departed the man, overridden by a sense of anticipation.

Kyle had committed homicide, multiple times, and witnessed Zai murder the male in the alleyway in what he'd considered an act of self-defence, but tonight would bring a new experience, and he pondered if she'd request his assistance or advice in the administering of pain, and eventual snuffing out of the youth's life. Or whether she'd wish to bear that glory herself, in the knowledge that he was but a step away if matters went awry.

If the latter, what method would she choose?

Slice open the man's chest cavity, and rip out his bloody, and still-throbbing heart with her bare hands? Slowly crush all two-hundred-and-six bones in his body until they turned to chalk-dust, one by agonising one? Pierce the six-pack of the abdomen that the man was so proud of, with a blade, and gut him alive as one would a fish?

Would the boy be stoic and defiant until his last breath, or would he, too, scream, cry, plead, grovel, and squeal like a stuck-pig, as had the women? Would he scream and cry more? Was it possible that a man could, when stripped of the inherent power and control that came with being born such, and caused him to feel entitled to approach Zai as he had, prove to be even more pathetic and weak than the females he treated with undisguised contempt.

The answers to those questions moved irrevocably closer as the youth stood, and Kyle readied himself to follow.
 
It was excruciating how typical and simple-minded of a guy he was; how unoriginal and routine his approach was. It was an advance that had no appeal, no luster. Encounters the brown haired beauty had come across too many times to count on both hands. Adam was disgusting. He was a vile person, a sorry excuse for a human being. Him and his friends alike. All there for the sole purpose of finding good pussy, 'wrecking it' and moving on. It disgusted her. Had she not made this decision with Kyle, Azairah wouldn't have wasted another breath on him and just walked away. Furthermore, it was taking everything in her not to take his glass and smash it over his head. Like every male, there came the always anticipated statement. Hope you like it rough. Azairah nearly gagged. She was a woman not a limp body for the purpose of fucking. Who ever said all women liked it rough should have been shot and killed on spot. Sex was a intimate moment between two people. Two people connecting and sharing with each other a moment of vulnerability; that they weren't perfect and had faults and wanted to share it with someone who understood and accepted that. But most of all that they were human with feelings that just wanted those feelings to be returned within a physical act. Yet before Azairah sat an imbecile who used it as a measure for his potential. Potential that most didn't even much care about. So he fucked a bunch of girls. What was the big deal? It only proved how insecure he was about himself. Just to see how many he could -most likely without consent- do and how hot they were to make his status? Sad part was, his actions would only get support and encouragement and yet the cycle of young women getting trapped by pigs like him would never stop. All for his pathetic benefit.

It disgusted her to her very core.
He was just like Cole.

"Oh baby, you know it," she said, supplying his his ego unremittingly with her words. "Hard and fast of course... You know me so well already." It was time to make the move. Now or never. Her darling little Adam had to know what it meant to have his 'status' taken away from him. Stripped from him by a woman. A woman he was dying to fuck senseless and toss. Her stomach turned and twisted into knots of anticipation. She was so close she could almost taste what was soon to be his fear. Fear of a woman. A smile found her full, dark lips as the male suggest for them to take their leave just after saluting his friends. He was scoring alright. Azairah pulled the small tube of plum lipstick from it's hidden spot in between her breasts, popped the cap off and reapplied her lipstick just as she had discussed with Kyle. Show time. It was happening. This moment she needed was happening. She could feel a rush of adrenaline filling her. Still, a small fraction of fear sprouted and the 'what if's' continued to dance their way through her head.

Was this what Kyle felt?
Did he find a distorted pleasure in killing these beings? An overwhelming joy knowing that he was going to eradicate the life of sorry, ignorant human being? She wanted to know to see if they were at least on the same page. These were the kind of people who were 'asking for it.' Asking for their lives to be taken. To set them free of all wrong they've done. Azairah pushed herself off her stool, pushing her dress down to it's original state just above her knees and the fabric once more sat comfortably against her petite, curved form.

All she could imagine was how bad she wanted to break every bone in his body. Starting with his fingers for touching her. It was clear Adam had gotten excited off of just a few whispers and a moan. If anything, he was the easy one. As they began to take their leave, Azairah couldn't help but look around in search of her partner but all she could do after searching breifly through an ocean of bodies was hope that he'd seen the sign and was tailing behind. Zai's heart pounded the closer they got to the exit, Adam, looming close behind. You can do this... You can really do this. Don't think. Just do. Of course there was no way Adam would let a woman who was so willing to give it go so easily. It was okay though! It's one person closer to Cole. It's one person closer to getting back at Cole. She had to do this. She had to go through with it. Remember all the pain Cole made her feel by feeling it through her victims. She couldn't let Cole get away with doing what he did to her. Reciting her purpose in her head, they passed the double doors leading away from the noisy club and were finally freed into the cool nights air and the timer began. Azairah already killed a man. This should have been no different and if anything it should have been easier. Adam followed Azairah towards her car unknowing of his fate. The vixen would let him thoroughly enjoy the bait, enjoy her body, enjoy her explicit and bewitching words of ecstasy for the moment.

The closer she knew she was getting to her car the more her excitement grew. She felt Adam who eagerly followed behind, grab her, wrap his arms around her and press his form into her backside. His erection was apparent against her form, pressing firmly against the back of her upper thigh as they moved along the sidewalk. All she had to do was endure it for a short while longer before she could be some what at peace. Resisting the urge shove him off and take off down the street, Adam had gone off in her ear, rambling nonsense about how hard he was going to pound her or how wild their unattainable romp was going to be once they'd reached her car. Azairah's eyes were everywhere, making sure no one, or at least anyone who could see them weren't close by other than Kyle and she stopped, just several feet from where she was supposed to turn to head in the direction of her vehicle. With Adam's meaty arms and restless hands around her, Azairah turned her body within his grasp to face him and grazed her pretty, long nails his face. "I'm not sure I can wait much longer Adam," she said pouting. "My car is really far from here too.." Adam watched her a minute before looking to their left and back at the woman before him. "Then I'll just fuck you right here, right now."

Azairah tugged on his shirt, leading him into an alleyway, fairly dark yet lit by a dim, orange, flickering street light. It was enough to see his face clear in the mild darkness which meant she'd get to see the long overdue reaction. "God I can't wait to shove my cock so far up your pussy... Get down and suck it for me babe." Adam said, a clear grin on his face. Appalled with his choice of word, Azairah did just wanted he wanted. She moved, sliding her hands down the sides of his toned torso, Adam lifting his shirt as she began to get down into a squat. It was what Adam wanted, but it wasn't what Adam was going to get. Sneaky hands moved around her physique, under her arm, pushing forth the lock-back that she'd brought with her around and kept hidden to the side her breast. Of course Adam assumed it was her breasts she was pulling out from her dress, yet when she didn't disappointment struck his face for a moment but he didn't care. He was getting off to her just undoing his belt, urging himself with thoughts of this woman's warm mouth around his flesh.

With Adam's attention on her and focused on the actions of her removing his belt from each loop, she glanced up at him. Azairah wanted him at his tipping point, wanting him to feel like he was on to of the world like Adam had probably always felt when a pretty face was sucking him off. That is before Azairah removed her hands entirely from him. Quickly pulling the knife from inside her dress Adam looked down at her confused before- "What are you doin-" "Shhh," Zai began softly. "You'll see..." She returned upright again. The soon murderess let her arms snake around his large shoulders, Adam in response placing his own around her. Assuming she was going for a kiss, Azairah pulled her leg back just enough before striking her knee once- he grunted, -twice- his arms unraveled from around her- thrice -and he shriveled into nothing, curled like a ball against the concrete floor. It was a knee to the crotch. There was no way in hell she'd let him enjoy the sweet agony of having a blade embedded in his body so soon. Azairah took a step back, watching him writhing in all of his tender agony. But all she could see was Cole. It was Cole Douglas to her bright, excited eyes. It was Cole Douglas crying in pain. "Fuck! FUCK! YOU FUCKING-" "Fucking what? Fucking bitch? Fucking cunt? Fucking slut? Tsk, tsk. C'mon now Adam I thought you were smarter than that sweetie!" She stood there a moment letting out her true nature, the divine malevolence that truly was Azairah D'Amici. The real Azairah that wanted to kill the man called Adam for touching her, for thinking he had a shot with a 'slut' who wanted to fuck. The monster who craved deeply to take the life of the male curled into the fetal position on the floor trying his best to sooth the pain his erection had suffered. "You didn't actually think you had a chance with me, right?" Azairah laughed, a wicked cackle that echoed in the empty alley.

Just as the jock tried his best to get up, Azairah landed another blow, slugging him as hard as she could to his abdomen. It was enough to have the wind knock of out of him. He gasped and held it, heaving for air as he held on to his groin for dear life. "Oh c'mon that's it? You were talking such big game back in the club. Not so hung anymore huh? You look so pathetic." Azairah continued her devious fun, chuckles galore as she gripped the blade in her hand and with enough force, snapped the blade out of it's hidden enclosure. "And this is the part where you tell me I'm a crazy bitch. C'mon Adam you're not making this fun at all. " Finally able to regain his breath Adam groaned in pain, sweating and drooling all over himself like he'd been running for days. It was every name in the book. Bitch, slut, whore, cunt, asshole, anything he could think of he said. Which was fine. Azairah had heard it all before, it was nothing new. Here she thought she'd have a hard time when all it took was a little kick or two and he was down. The soon murderess got down into a crouch again, a good foot between her and the other for safe measure. "Not feeling so hot anymore huh? I'm not really sorry I have to do this either. I'm kind of tired of having to apologize to everyone for once so getting the chance to kill someone... Again? Feels pretty nice. You remind me a lot of a prick I'm after..." Reaching over, Zai press the cold steel to Adam's cheek grinning ear to ear.

She could see it and remembered clearly how Cole had taken all means of will from her. How he'd shattered her bones, destroyed her face, took away the only thing she could really call hers. He made her bleed, her made her cry, he made her hate herself far more than she hated him. Cole Douglas gave her unimaginable pain and a pain that would never heal. How could she not take this opportunity? How could she not when it was right in front of her, being offered kindly to her on a silver platter? She watched as Adam's gray, terrified, glossy eyes widened to the steel against his cheek and his body go tense for a moment as Azairah danced it across his face. "He did something really bad to me and I want to get him back for it. You probably don't care and just want to get out of here, but I can't let you go Adam." With a swift movement she stood, looking down at the scared boy beneath her. With his hands covering what was his groin, Azairah bent over and with enough force pierced the blade through both of his hands. Adam screamed in pain but all was cut short just as Azairah's heeled shoe came crashing down against his face. "You're making too much noise, god dammit." She said this and yet his foot never stopped. It was impact after impact. Then came a bloody nose, a bloody lip, bleeding holes in his cheek from her piercing heel, broken teeth, and before long a faint, crunch.

"That didn't sound so good."

Stopping a moment, her shoe and foot was covered slightly in the poor, suffering males' blood. A smile filled her beautiful lips. It felt good. It felt so, so good. To look down at someone who looked just about in the same shape she was just so few months ago. It was beautiful. Adam was beautiful. Little giggles sounded the alleyway as Adam attempted to shift his tired body away from the woman to seek any means of escape. It was clear he couldn't see. His eyes were blinded by his own blood. He was going to die and he knew it. No more parties, no more clubbing and not more girls to fuck. It was the end for him. Azairah watched his body tremble violently- shivering like a wet dog. Twisting and pulling the hand blade from both of Adam's hands, the ever so ambitious Azairah then took it upon herself to end his misery. To end his pain. To end his existence. Kyle was probably going to show up any moment and she would have proven that she could do it. She would have proven that even though she was a woman she could be his accomplice. That she could put aside her rational feelings and become a cold blooded killer. Just as she'd promised herself in the club, the second strike had gone through his neck. Blood oozed from the gash as Azairah pulled her hand down, ripping open the side of his neck. There was no room to scream anymore. Adam was done. Done in no less by a woman.

Man did it feel good. Too good.

Brown eyes stared at the now dead body that was in front of her. His neck torn open, quickly streaming blood out onto the concrete floor, unattached from the rest of his body. Her mark was made deep. Her smile dropped, as did her blade next to Adam's dead limp body. Azairah killed someone again. Her hands were covered in the blood of another person. This wasn't out of self-defense. This was out of her pure rage. Her undying need to get back at Cole Douglas. Taking several steps back away from the carcass readily gushing blood, she stared at her hands. She just murdered someone. No remorse. No mercy, nothing. Her vision blurred as a warm tickle rolled down her cheeks and with her bloody fingers, she wiped away tears. Why was she crying? She should have been happy... He touched her. He violated all the boundaries she'd set for herself. He grabbed her, he was expecting things from her.

But they were taken away.
By her.
She did it.
She was happy.
And she didn't even need help.​
 
Azairah wouldn't require assistance. Kyle recognised that as he viewed how she managed to maintain her smile, and an expression of warmth and sexual interest even as the youth brazenly turned to his friends and indicated that he'd found some pussy to wreck. What a man. The Army veteran's own countenance lit up momentarily with amusement at the though that the guy had no idea that the only pussy that evening, and one to take it rough, would be himself. Kyle hadn't heard the question, but it was one he knew had been asked, because wasn't that what got every girls panties wet? The promise to fuck her into next week.

Had Kyle ever been like that, and treated women as nothing but warm holes to be used, then discarded?
Not even as a teenager. Like any other boy, he'd had his urges and been driven by hormones, but had always displayed respect, and regarded them as equals. He still did. And that's why he felt no remorse for taking a woman's life. Kyle didn't believe in Heaven or Hell, or that you'd receive your comeuppance in the 'next life', therefore retribution needed to be executed in this. That evening, the victim was to be a male, but on the next it could be female. Equality, to Kyle, meant no-one received any special consideration, compassion or empathy because of gender. The expectations placed on both were the same, and whoever deserved it, would die.

The streets outside were crowed after he exited the club closely behind Zai and her new friend, certain that the boy would be too busy with thoughts of the night ahead to have any cause to glance behind him. It turned out Kyle was correct as Adam held on to his latest conquest and serenaded her with what he, unable to hear, assumed were his romantic versions of sweet nothings. No doubt telling her how he was going to screw her senseless, and fuck her as she'd never been fucked before. Under the soft glow of street lamps, he walked on the opposite side and stayed about fifty yards behind the couple. In his dark jeans, and jacket, with the collar pulled up around his neck, he'd be barely discernible from the distance, if he was noted at all, but close enough to intervene within seconds if something went awry.

To her vehicle, he'd told her, and that was where Kyle had believed she was leading them when they entered the alleyway, the masses by now having been left far behind, and the surrounding roads deserted. With the couple's footsteps echoing off the pavement, he halted at the lane entrance, and allowed them time to pull further head. Then, the footsteps ceased, and when Kyle peeked around the fence, for the first time since he'd met Azairah D'Amici, she managed to shock him. And obviously, Adam, too. For both his mouth and eyes widened in pain and shock as a knee rammed into his balls with enough force to cause Kyle to wince. Then laugh.

The Army veteran stood in the darkness, watching and waiting, Zai's guard dog and protector, and derived pleasure at the sights and sounds emanating from the brutal assault taking place before him. Each sigh, sob, epithet and insult hurled at her by Adam, which wasn't a smart move when you were on your knees, with a blade pressed to your cheek, was music to his ears. Kyle's peripheral vision constantly scanned both entrances, side and back, however the majority of his focus remained intently on Zai and her victim.

For a moment, grey eyes pierced the darkness and met those of blue, one set filled with contempt and amusement, the other with tears and terror. The boy's mouth opened and his jaw quivered with fear as his gaze remained lock on Kyle's in a silent plea for help, before the night air was lanced by a scream. The boys gaze swiftly departed Kyle's when his head flew back as acrylic smashed into skin and bone, and steel impaled the flesh of his hands. That look may have been the last voluntary act Adam ever performed.

Kyle heard the distinctive crack of the man's facial bones splintering, and a fountain of blood sprayed from his splattered nose. The arrogant prick's head turned to mush as the strikes continued, and Zai's unrelenting attack elicited wet, sloppy squelching noises, akin to those you'd expect from a torrent of watermelons striking the ground after being dropped from a ten-story building, one after another. Was he still conscious, or even alive, when the blade slashed his neck, or were the spasms of his body involuntary reactions caused by the remaining electrons in his nerve endings misfiring as they searched in vain for a power source that no longer existed? Kyle didn't know, and it was of no consequence, the man was now dead.

"It's me, Zai. Kyle." The words came softly and floated through the night as he finally stepped from the shadows, hoping not to frighten her. Was he scared of the woman, or that she might attack him? Not in the slightest, they had a connection, and although the incident had lasted mere minutes, he was aware that every moment they remained in public brought them closer to capture. A witness could pass by at any stage, and still might when they exited the alley.

On the next occasion, they'd need to take more care and ensure their plans were well thought out as they couldn't continue to maim and kill in such open areas. Kyle mentally scolded himself that he hadn't thought to mention it to Zai, however that remained unspoken when he approached and placed a hand on Zai's back. His gentle tone was in complete contrast to the act that had just been perpetrated, and the sight of the youth, all arrogance having departed his features, with dead-eyes wide open, scalp ripped and torn, pieces of ripe flesh hanging from his head, and raw ragged strands of throat sinew and muscle exposed, who lay at their feet. "I'm proud of you Zai. You're not afraid to help yourself, and do what needs to be done. No remorse, no empathy, the prick deserved it. Deserved worse." Kyle lifted his leg, and aimed his steel-capped boot directly at the corpse. "Immoral cunt."

Adam Hunter's lifeless body lifted off the ground from the force, the inertia of which also caused a river of bright-red blood to erupt from his gashed neck, before he fell back to earth, and hit the pavement with a satisfying thud. "We'd better leave, I'll drive you home, and walk from there." Kyle had caught the train in. His hand departed her back, and he stared into Zai's watery eyes, and briefly wondered how she felt and what she thought, but decided not to ask. He'd allow her to express that in her own time, and of her own volition, if she needed or wanted to. As he continued, Kyle slipped the can of lighter fluid from his pocket, and drizzled it over Adam's lifeless form, then pulled out a matchbook. The flare, as it struck, illuminated both of their faces, and flickered between them. "A step closer to Cole Douglas," he whispered as the flaming match landed on what used to be Adam Hunter.

It would require a long and circuitous journey to arrive at their ultimate destination, but eventually they would, and by that time, Kyle hoped that Zai would have been accustomed to and learned to derive pleasure from the application of pain so much that she'd be able to properly repay Cole Douglas for the lack of empathy displayed to her. And when that process was finally completed, and retribution taken in full, for Zai to once again feel a whole human being. As would he, in the knowledge that it'd had been him to help her reach that goal, although a whole human being didn't mean that you returned to the person you once were, just that you'd metamorphosed fully into the one you were intended to be. "Come on, let's go." Kyle slipped his hand into Zai's and began to tug her away as flames licked at their feet, and the stench of singed cotton and scorched flesh rose in the air.
 
In the cool night air, Kyle's soft voice broke the silence and startled her just regardless. The poor woman was on edge as thoughts of her murder crammed through her mind and against her shoulder Azairah wiped her tears from her face, not caring how much her make-up had probably smudged. Here she thought she wouldn't have cried... But she was just so overcome with emotion, with joy that it was hard not to. The gentle hand against her back forced her back into reality and that she for certain had just become a murderer. Not acting out in defense, but instead someone who'd murdered a man. And Kyle praised her for it. Finally she had done something right and someone had finally praised her for it. She glanced at Kyle, lips curling up into half a smile before she glanced down at the blood slowly drying on her hands. It was disgusting. Where were her wipes when she needed them... She remained silent, body jumping the moment Kyle's shoe cracked against the dead male's body. All it took was lighter fluid, and a match and Adam's body lit up beautifully but Azairah knew they couldn't dwell there for much longer and enjoy the appalling sight of burning flesh. The smell was just as horrible as it looked. Feeling Kyle's hand slip into hers, a feeling of nausea found her but she swallowed it remembering clearly that Kyle wasn't the enemy. Following him out of the alley Azairah took the lead regardless of how lost she felt and headed in the direction of where she knew her car was. Kyle probably knew she wasn't okay but she had to fake it till she made it at least.

The insides of her shoes and feet were wet and with each step she took it was another reminder that it wasn't water like she hoped it was. Zai didn't bother looking down at whatever mess was made of her dress, even if it was black. It was easily felt as the fitted fabric clung to her body uncomfortably. A sigh left her lips as she squeezed Kyle's hand suddenly. Remember his fear, remember the sound of Adam's pain and agony before all of his sounds and motions had stopped. It was horrible but so beautiful, relieving knowing she was 'connecting' with her victim and know that they were feeling the same thing she'd felt. It was a compelling and prurient feeling that she felt she could relish in forever... It was exactly what she'd wanted. For someone else to feel what she felt, see what she saw, desire what she desired whether they wanted to or not. Was that too much to ask for? As the two of them, hand in hand reached the quiet lot where Azairah's black car stood next to a few others, she pulled the key from inside her dress and handed it to Kyle after unlocking the doors. "I'll show you were to go from here," she said quietly.

A trip that normally took thirty-five minutes there to home felt like days. It felt like everything had gone in slow motion. The light of the cars coming from the opposite direction of the street seemed to pass them slowly. She was sitting in the car next to a man who'd done something like this over and over and hadn't phased him one bit and Azairah wanted to understand why. After tiredly pinching the bridge of her nose, her lips parted and she spoke, breaking the deafening silence between them. "Is this what you feel?" Not looking at him, eyes following the calm, sleeping nature and occasional home between Eden and Rome as they drove on. "Filled with an indescribable satisfaction that it scares you? In the darkness, Azairah looked down at her hands. It was hard to see but the heavy feeling of dried blood on her and under her long nails remained. Knowing that you've taken the life of someone who's life probably deserved to be taken and yet finding complete comfort in the act? Finally turning in the direction of her accomplice, her eyes followed the features of his profile. Facial muscles, curves and dips of his face hidden by shadows were all observed, trying to see if she could understand him even through an expression. She stared at him a moment more, trying to understand what it was he truly got from acts of violence like these. "Help me understand what it is you feel when you do this..."

Her eyes followed his face, trying to find his familiar, comforting blue eyes in the darkness of their drive. His face occasionally lighting up with each passing vehicle. "What is it you get from this? Excitement? Or what? Do you find exhilaration knowing they're totally helpless and paying for what they've done? Pleasure? Does it turn you on hearing their scream and knowing they can't do anything? Their expression? Their sudden change of mind and how they completely scum to you in fear of losing their life?" Quickly looking away and finding herself embarrassed with warm cheeks Azairah gave a soft laugh. "That's probably too personal and sick... But I can't help it." There was a fight inside her. That rational side of her again. The one that cared for the human race and thought of how cruel murders were. Yet the idealist refused to conform to those sorts of thoughts and gave her the encouragement she needed to believe that what she'd done just moments ago was completely right. Her eyes once more found Kyle's profile as he continued down the quiet road. Vibrancy and warmth filled her soft, feminine face as a smile found its way through her curiosity. "I'm happy. So happy I cried. So tell me Kyle, tell me so I don't feel like I'm going crazy. Tell me what you feel because I don't want to feel bad that i'm happy I murdered someone."
 
Kyle's demeanour and expression remained gentle as they exited the alley, leaving behind the acrid smell of burning fabric, and stench of roasting flesh. Even if Adam was discovered before he was burnt to a crisp, and shrivelled to no more than a bag of bones, the flames would destroy any physical evidence. He gripped her hand, and kept one eye on the path in front of them, and the other on Zai, ensuring they stayed in the shadows, in the event they encountered any passers-by who were attracted to the bright-red arterial blood spatters that coated Azairah's face, hands and clothing. In the darkness, the stains blended in to her black dress, and caramel skin. Their footsteps echoed off the pavement, and Kyle awaited for Zai to turn towards him before he shot her a nod of encouragement, and stopped himself from halting right there to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Were they elicited by joy, relief, sorrow or regret? He didn't know, and one emotion could well mutate into another as she came to accept that she'd murdered a man with ice-cold premeditation, and there was no going back. However, it wasn't the moment to ask, so instead he squeezed her hand reassuringly, and found that the easy silence between them brought along with it, a peace of its own.

The timing had been serendipitous, early enough in the evening for the night-owls not to have yet entered the City, and late enough for the early-birds to already have crammed the Clubs, and they encountered not a soul on the walk to her car. "It's over, we're safe." Kyle whispered as he took the keys she proffered, then entered the vehicle without a further word. He held no compassion for the young man they'd left dead in the alley, nor for those who'd mourn his passing. The only person who deserved empathy was Azairah, and as he pulled out on to the deserted street, that emotion was evident in his expression. He maintained his grip on the wheel, and foot on the gas as he scanned her face, which faded in and out of shadow under the passing lights. "How do I feel?" He repeated her question, almost inaudibly, and pulled his gaze back to the road, away from the blood-soaked woman. Could he define it? Just as it appeared he may not respond, the Army veteran took a deep breath, and began to talk. "I feel alive."

He spoke softly as the highway veered right, and the lights of the City of Rome faded from the rear view mirror, leaving a luminescent orange glow in their wake. One which was matched, on a smaller scale, by a glow that appeared before them. Eden. Their home. One of his hands slipped from the steering wheel, and reached for Zai's, in search of that human contact Kyle had so long rejected, and now offered to Zai, as much out of his own renewed need for it, as for her succour, and when his fingers laced in hers, the man tilted his head to meet her eyes. "Excitement, exhilaration, power, satisfaction. In those moments, when I'm making them cry out in pain, and beg and plead for their lives, and watching the light fade from their eyes, I'm unstoppable, and it's as if nothing else exists except me and my victim, in a parallel Universe where good always triumphs over evil, and when it's over, I'm cleansed. My mind is clear, and the mental anguish and torment has returned to its cage."

The murderer's focus returned to the road as he pondered how to reply to the second part of her questions, and decided that Azairah was warranted the full truth. "It's not too personal. Until Lisa, it didn't excite me, mentally yes, but not sexually; however with Cole's girlfriend, although I never laid a finger on her in that way, it was different, as I was doing it for you, and had finally discovered another reason to live, other than for myself. For the first time in so long, I was needed, and the knowledge sexually aroused me; it's difficult to express." Kyle slipped his hand from Zai's as they entered the locality of Eden, and shifted his eyes back to hers. "That may all sound crazy talk. How can any homicide be rightful, and how can I be turned on by a woman's screams? Am I not more morally corrupt than those I label as such?"

He shrugged, unsure if what he expressed made sense to the woman in the passenger seat, and then continued. "The Army drilled into me that the taking of human life is acceptable if the end justifies the means, and consider what would have eventuated if you weren't present this evening. That asshole would have selected a less capable target, and what would have become of her? And the next, and the next. He possessed only one life, but by taking it, how many women's potential suffering did we relieve? That I've learned to crave the killing, and relish the pain, well I am what they've shaped me to be, Zai, but when I recognised myself in you at the Station, my life gained a second purpose, and that was to assist you in becoming whole again, or at least helping you discover a way to achieve a measure of contentment. There's no point living, if it's to be in perpetual despair. We're almost home."

Kyle nodded out the window and changed the subject as the residences increased in density, and they entered the City Limits, then returned the soft smile she'd previously graced him with. "I'm happy, and there's no remorse. Let me know if you'd like company, or if, for tonight, you'd prefer to deal with your conscience alone. The first is always the most difficult, and before we continue, if we do, and whenever you're ready, I want to understand how you truly feel, and be satisfied that I won't cause you more harm than good."
 
Unstoppable.
Power.
Excitement.
Exhilaration.
Alive...

The words rang in her ears so pleasantly. The more she listened to Kyle explain, the more she'd wished she met this man sooner. Maybe under different circumstances but definitely sooner. His boundless intelligence, his experience- all what have brought him where he was now, knowledge, cravings... all of it filled her so perfectly. No one had ever, in the years she's lived, gave her such an electrifying thrill as Kyle did. No one had ever bothered to show intelligence and not be ashamed of it like Kyle had. He wasn't hesitant to tell her his emotions or thoughts or to attempt to help her understand in her moment of confused emotions and not get frustrated with her in the process. And she'd wondered if Kyle had truly- not completely- trusted her. As Azairah attentively listened to his low humming voice explain himself, the more she realized that she couldn't help but find herself just slightly attracted to him. To his ways, his methods, his thoughts, his glances and glares. The way his blue eyes always found hers. How they were dangerous oceanic orbs that held many other secrets and pains and sufferance within it's relentless waves that Azairah wished to unveil and yet...- They held tenderness.

Those apparent blue eyes, even in the dark of their car ride found her regardless. Shit. He had to stop doing that... With his hand palm to palm and fingers weaved between hers, Azairah relaxed for the moment. Dropping her shoulders that she didn't know were so tensed. This man, watched her murder someone, laughed at her victim and was still finding a moment of compassion through everything that occurred that night. A wide smile finally with teeth lit up her blood stained face. She had to be crazy, completely out of her mind now. "No, no it definitely makes sense and you've at least explain it in a way to where I can understand. And this is coming from someone who's only murdered twice... I can at least see where you're going with this. Doing all that she could to keep her smile to herself, Azairah turned away glancing back out at what now looked like Eden's city limits. But in the midst of her giddiness, something said had her smile drop and shock joined in exchange. "Wait a minute," she said softly. "I know you said you'd kill her for me, but I didn't know I'd given you purpose and a reason to live in the process. Aren't passionate words like that more reserved towards people that are actually... I don't know," she said shrugging. "Useful? Or a lover? I can't give you anything. I've had so much taken from me Kyle that I don't know if I could truly give you purpose." Feeling Kyle's hand slip away from hers was almost a relief and she joined her hands together instead.

All of this was new to her.
Someone needing her just as it was the same for her needing someone else. Kyle needed her and she needed Kyle in return. Regardless, he was right. There was an ease that came with killing that then turned into indulgence and then into gluttony and Azairah desired more of it. "If you put his death in positive terms like that then I really can't help but feel like I've done something absolutely right. Justice without mercy. That's all there is to it." He was expressing things no one had ever dare bother thinking about and he wasn't afraid of doing it. He was honest and she loved it. Kyle made her feel like a savior with just words. This was their purpose. This was what they were made to do. This was the reason for their meeting. The station, first email and the reply, the coffee shop and finally where they were now. Driving home from the first kill as partners. It was sealed by the blood on her hands and there was no turning back. "It was... nice though. I felt alive taking his life. I felt-," A laugh slipped as her smile widened, and her dark eyes, animated with excitement. "I felt... So good. I don't think you understand how bad I want Cole Douglas now. How I want to do the same, but ten fold the pain he's given me."

But she knew what the response was to that. That she'd have Cole soon enough. It was fine. She could be patient. She could wait. She waited for Kyle to step into her life and Kyle would force Cole to cross into her again.
A little patience was all it took.

Though his next words tickled her ears. She wasn't almost there. They were almost there. Something she'd hadn't heard in such a long time. Azairah watched the rest of the route, watching as familiar buildings and roads passed them. "You're more than welcome to stay. I... actually would like it if you did. So I'll be selfish and ask you to keep my conscience and I company so we don't lose it." Another laugh left her as she continued. "The first one was very hard. And I'm glad it's over so now I don't have to embarrass myself with my overflowing emotion. Besides, our drink was rudely interrupted and you looked like you wanted to discuss things other than our now murderous tendencies. So stay," she said slowly. Though in all of her honesty, she felt like she'd be more secure if he was there anyways. Just a moment more of driving and a familiar line of suburban houses in perfect rows caught her eye. Passing her neighbor and turning into the driveway of a small two story home, immediately Azairah pushed the glove compartment open in front of her and pressed a small gray button on a garage opener and addressed Kyle to park inside. She would rather not let her nosy neighbors see a man come out with her let alone covered in blood even if it was a struggle to see in the night. Hearing the engine shut off, Azairah finally was able to see the actual mess made of her as she glanced down to see nearly dried blood everywhere. "I look terrible and you didn't even bother to say anything?" Zai joked as she pushed open the passenger door.

It was a relief to be home at least. It was some sort of safe place no matter how much she'd hated walking into the building alone. Tonight was different. She had Kyle. It was going to be okay. Pushing the garage door that led into her home, she removed her sticky shoes and it was probably then she realized how much shorter she was than the other. "Consider this your second home and make yourself comfortable," she said turning to the other. "As well as I know I could make dried blood fashionable, I'd much rather get this off. I'll be back in a minute. Don't go anywhere..." Little bloody toe prints followed behind her on her hard tile floor as she continued upstairs and into her room. The first thing was to get the blood off and think about what she could to do salvage her dress. Maybe now she really had to put thought into what she was going wear when and if she continued things with Kyle.

Then again 'if' wasn't an option.
She was going to.
Cole Douglas had to be hers.
Cole Douglas had to suffer just as Adam had tonight.

Azairah was meant to be his savior.

In the shower and out in twenty minutes, Azairah retired downstairs to her waiting accomplice. Finally looking less serious and blood free in a dark red off shoulder sweater and sleep shorts, Azairah set down on her kitchen counter an unwrapped bag of white shirts and long, dark blue pajama pants. Kyle was the first outside of her family to have ever seen her bare all. Hair wet and in the middle drying up in a loose bun. No make-up and revealing healed scars upon her face, neck, arms and legs that were forever etched into her skin; cuts and small gashes that would pose as her never ending reminder... "I brought down stuff for you to wear. Sleeping in jeans, -assuming that you're taking my offer and staying- I don't think is comfortable so help yourself to these. They were supposed to be for my father but he never showed up one night so," she sang, dragging the 'o'. "Instead of collecting dust, you can have them."

The next problem to resolve for the night was how make their situation in any way as not awkward as possible.​
 
Emotions Kyle Evans hadn't experienced in an eternity consumed him as he explained himself to Zai, and expressed to the murderess, coated with another mans blood, beside him, words and feelings that he'd never even spoken of to anyone else. What he revealed to Zai, the man himself was also hearing for the first time, and yet there was embarrassment at the admission that he'd become sexually aroused by the act of torturing a woman. He and Zai were of the same ilk, however she also offered the Army Veteran something that he'd forever be unable to obtain alone. Companionship, and another agonised soul to whom he could reveal his darkest and most depraved desires, no matter how wrong others would believe them to be. The secrets he'd kept hidden were now allowed to see the light of day, for he trusted Azairah, and had from the moment their eyes had first, fatefully, met through the one-way glass of the police interview room.

He eyes scanned her face, and the blood and tears that streaked her skin disappeared from his perception as Kyle's gaze burned deep into her warm brown orbs, and sought the very core of Azairah D'Amici. Did he search one who could offer him salvation, and provide him cause to steer away from the acts he perpetrated? Not at all, redemption for his kind was a fiction that only occurred in Hollywood films and, in reality, Kyle had ventured too far down the dark path to ever be turned away, even if the tiniest part of him had still believed that what he did was wrong. No, that's not what she could offer, but the opposite. A partner to share his depravities with him, and possibly a partner, full-stop. That concept was not one the man had contemplated he'd ever have the opportunity of obtaining again since the heart-wrenching divorce from Amy, which had been the catalyst to free him finally, and totally, from the chains of all ethical norms.

"You aren't required to offer me any more than you already have, Zai. My killings assisted in the relief of my pain, and that allowed me freedom enough to sleep and continue on, however since we became acquainted, for the first time in I don't know how long, I've been able to smile, and experience emotions that I'd almost forgotten existed. It's why I offered you space, and the time to allow it all to sink into your own conscience, and to decide what it is you desired, because, to be brutally honest, I'm not certain who is the true intended beneficiary of this new sense of purpose, myself or you. Possibly both of us, equally."

Kyle shrugged as he easily revealed the truth to the woman in the passenger seat, and returned his gaze to the road, unaware of the impact of the 'we' he had spoken of, when he'd referred to home. His mind had instead focused on the word, lover, and it's inference. Up until that moment, although physically aroused at the scene of Lisa Douglas murder, and aware of the connection between that response, and Zai, any sexual feelings towards the woman herself had been non-existent, or at least buried in the recesses of his conscious. However at the spoken word, the brief thought flashed through his head, that possibly, once again he could experience special closeness that only sex with someone who you cared about could bring, and prove to Zai, that regardless of the acts Cole Douglas had perpetrated, with the right man, sex could remain a gratifying experience unlike any other, and that Cole shouldn't be allowed to win by causing Zai to forever deny herself the pleasures of the flesh. In time when, and if, both were ready for it.

"Justice without mercy." He repeated the mantra as Zai's tone, more than the words, told him that she'd enjoyed the killing, and opportunity to unleash all of her all internal rage on the stranger from the Club. Kyle well knew how cathartic that was, although it was obvious what still occupied her mind with the next sentence. "Even I may not comprehend fully how badly you want Cole Douglas, but I promise, you'll to receive the opportunity to exact your full measure of revenge. On Cole, his cohorts, and all associated with them."

The man quietened when the reached Zai's, and scanned the area in search of any prying eyes. Not that he was too concerned if they were seen, as the darkness outside, combined with the glare from the headlights would obscure the details of both his and Azairah's features, before the vehicle disappeared in to the garage, however it still was better if they weren't noticed. "It's okay to be happy. The world had its chance, and abandoned us, so now we make our own rules."

Kyle was about continue when instead, Zai's unexpected light-hearted joke elicited a full-blown laugh. "I hardly even noted the blood, however now that you've mentioned it" The man's countenance lit up in a way that was in contrast to his previously serious nature, and harked back to the witty and humorous man he could truly be as he appraised the stains on her dress, "It kinds of suits you, but probably best not to wear it out in public." He shot her a wink and then, glad for the trust that Zai had placed in him, by unhesitatingly allowing him in to her home - a lone man, and a serial-murderer at that - he followed her inside. 'Take your time."

He spoke as he stood in the living room, and appraised her living quarters, and when she'd departed to shower, he wandered the space, selecting an item to investigate here and there, and critiquing her choice of reading material, curious to learn more about her. As the sound of water flowing through the pipes slowed, then ceased altogether, he leaned against one wall and waited for her to reemerge, and subtly appraised her features, but displayed no reaction to the scars and nicks etched into her skin. "Thanks, I appreciate it, though I've slept in much more uncomfortable clothing and locations. Your sofa appears most luxurious by comparison."

The remark was to reassure Zai that he didn't plan to request to sleep in her bed, or that he possessed a purpose for being there other than for her comfort, and lightly touched her elbow as approached her at the counter, neither the murdered man, nor what had brought them together, forgotten, but less important now they were alone in a place where both could be themselves. "Pour us that drink, and tell me about you. Where you were born, your family, what brought you to Eden. Let's pretend we're normal for a while" Kyle smiled at his own joke, allowing Azairah the space and freedom to bring up the nights events of her own volition if she so wished, and released his touch from her arm. "Then tomorrow, after you've rested, we can figure out what comes next."

Tomorrow, when the heinous murder of the Adam Hunter would be headline news, and Aziarah wouldn't be able to escape the reality of what she had done, or how the remainder of Society viewed her actions, and he'd be able to determine how she honestly felt.
 
Azairah D'Amici had convinced herself enough that it was okay she invited a murderer into her home and offered him clothing and her couch to sleep on. And still they acted as if nothing happened that night. Yes the thought still lingered within the depths of her mind but the fact that Kyle was able to create a moment of normalcy between them was what Azairah was grateful for. Kyle's laughter surprised her though. And as horrible as it sounded the murderess was almost worried that he wasn't the able to break out of his serious nature or let alone capable of emotion. Seeing him like that and over a silly joke gave her the comfort she desired with this man. A man, in her house. Alone with her. She was okay because it was Kyle. If anything she felt safe. Of course Azairah wouldn't dare let go of the fact how charming a smile Kyle had. This man made her feel like a woman again. With just words he managed to make Azairah slowly melt. Thawing out her ice cold, closed heart would take time but Kyle seemed to be already on the right track. He subtly returned her shattered, missing pieces moment after moment. Word after word, actions, glances, intelligence all alike. It was him. It had to be him. The person she was waiting for all her life. Kyle didn't push himself onto her. He didn't force or want anything from her. He saw her as an equal and for once Azairah adored someone. Yes their time together was short but it was enough time that she could already tell. Her heart fluttered as her stomach twisted into nervous knots and all of his doing.

He spoke nothing of her scars, he didn't stare as if she were on display because they both knew where they came from and who they were made by. Kyle frustrated her, excited her, captivated her, worried her and still through all of that a part of her still craved this man. Her selfish womanly desires kicked in demanding that Kyle belong to her and her only. Though humans belong to no one. "I definitely need to make you laugh more often because you also didn't tell me you had such a gorgeous smile." Through all her embarrassment and Kyle's light touch that only provided much more comfort. The faint smell of their night, his personal scent as he approached her teased her nose and Azairah smiled in return, stepping around her island counter centered in the kitchen and into a cabinet to grab two wine glasses and into another cabinet to grab a tall, black bottle of Sequoia Grove Cambium. "Normal sounds perfect right about now," Zai said in her low, sultry voice.

With the two of them sitting comfortably against her sofa, enjoying their drink Azairah began her story everything starting with her birth on the small island of the Dominican Republic. She spoke for hours, about her family and how she was mixed and not fully Hispanic. Her father coming from the other side of D.R, Haiti. Azairah spoke on about how she was a sibling, the eldest and that with being the eldest meant how many things were expected of her. She had a family but her family didn't have her. They didn't care. They didn't want her. They wanted nothing to do with her. She was nothing but a failure to them. They wanted a doctor or a lawyer but got an accountant working a small firm from 9-5 instead just trying to meet ends. Her precious little sister ending up being the spoiled one. The one who was good enough, better, perfect and as she spoke the pain of her childhood came flooding in. It wasn't supposed to a pity fest, nor a soap opera but it was hers. It was her life and there was nothing she could have done to change that. Azairah left her family at the tender age of seventeen to find her own path, to find her own purpose, to make something of herself in her youth and in the end that almost got herself killed. And it was then she realized how merciless the world was and how she had to harden herself to survive.

Her home was given to her by her father to get her poisonous energy away from their perfect world and it was fine. She liked it alone. She was all she had from the start and it would be all she ever had. Her, herself and no one else. But it was okay! She wasn't asking for Kyle's attention, or pity or anything from him at all still. Just the thought of him listening to her pains was enough to sooth her because never had she expressed these things to anyone. Kyle was her first and to know that he was giving her his undivided attention comforted her. Leaving a moment to return with blankets and pillows galore for her guest and surprising Kyle with the fact that her sofa was a pull out and assured he'd rest comfortably, Azairah in return asked Kyle of his life. Curious since he'd blurted out that he was in the army and joking how she felt safer already. The talk wasn't to compare pains at all, but rather to understand and be able to relate. Until that is eventually there came a silence- a moments pause from their conversations and tired brown eyes found refuge in closure. It stormed that night. The low rumbles of distant thunder, rain rasping unforgiving against her home, the faucet leaking slowly and the two of them together in her dimly lit living room.

Azairah was too tired to find it in herself to make it to her room all the way upstairs. "Can I trust you Kyle?" she questioned through her exhaustion. "To be honest, I don't really want to sleep alone..." With her eyes already closed and her small, slender form making its way under the thick blankets she'd gathered for him, Azairah slipped herself under them and her eyes momentarily opened. Half lidded, dreamy brown eyes glanced up at Kyle. "I know it's childish but... Can I stay here..? I'm... tired of having nightmares..." she said softly, dragging her words as sleep crept it's way into her body. Not even fully aware of what exactly she was asking, the murderess- a completely normal woman, of her own accord got comfortable against her pulled out sofa and before she knew it, before she could hear if Kyle gave her a reply or not, Azairah was out cold.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------​

Morning had come just as quickly as night had left and the alarm clock set in Azairah's body to wake up at 7 am on the dot had awaken her. And to her surprise she was not in her room. Her eyes darted around a moment, messy, dark locks of her hair shrouded her face and it was then when she remembered what exactly she did last night. A drink, her life story and them momentarily embarrassing herself with her childish needs. She sighed. Pushing the thick covers from off her slender form and quietly moved, re-adjusting her sweater over her slim, curved waist that had raised up. A part of her knew she wasn't that graceful of a sleeper and probably looked ridiculous sleeping. But for once, she didn't have a cruel nightmare. She didn't see her father, mother, sister or Cole and his cohorts. It was just straight blissful sleep. Hurrying upstairs to look more human being than morning creature, Azairah prepped herself for the morning.

The least she could do was give him something to eat after a long night of depressing chatter, though after a very small buzz and past the sad sob stories, Azairah was all giggles. Embarrassed feelings raised as she returned downstairs remember what exactly she said to him before passing out and if she had the ability she'd make him forget. Checking her fridge, seeing how she lost her appetite for a while all she could seem to find were a few ingredients and eggs. Omelette it was. Singing, -the one thing she was good at and her parents hadn't appreciated- softly to herself as she pulled the ingredients from the refrigerator, Azairah knew what was to come of the morning. A possible news report of a dead male in an alleyway burned to death in Rome and what was to come next of their plans together. Azairah wasn't going anywhere any time soon. She'd already gotten this far and the damage was already done. And besides her sights were already more than set on Cole Douglas. Not even bothering to turn the television on for the sake of her conscious telling her what a horrible mistake she made, she continued to cook. A light, flavorful aroma filling the kitchen and living room. "Kyle," she said softly, trying to awaken her guest. "If you don't wake up I'm going to have to eat your portion!"​
 
Kyle allowed the events of that night, and the murder of Adam Hunter to sink to the back of his conscious as they spoke in Zai's kitchen, It had been an age since he'd last entered someone elses home as a friend, and even longer since he'd conversed with a woman on a personal level. Not that there hadn't been approaches, however, Kyle despised humanity, and preferred to deal with his demons alone. That was the only way he'd known how to survive, in isolation, however Azairah brought out the desires for human contact and understanding that had been buried deep in his heart. The murderess and the murderer, two dark, lonely, desperate people, but together, possibly so much more.

He'd shocked himself with the ability to laugh out loud, and also desired more of that. Zai attracted Kyle, both physically and mentally as no other had except his childhood sweetheart, Amy, with her intelligence, looks, personality, newly discovered sense of humour, and the yearnings she possessed that allowed her to take human life. The marks and scars that adorned her skin only helped to increase her uniqueness, and told their own tale. One that the Army Veteran was now a part of, and would help Azairah finish. "If I didn't know better, I'd accuse you of flirting, Ms D'Amici," he replied with a grin. The Army veteran took in every part of her face in a manner that he hadn't previously before he realised that he was staring like a man smitten, and swiftly averted his gaze.

Even the tone of her voice entranced him, and he sat in mostly silence when they moved to the sofa, with a look of interest and curiosity on his face as they drank, and she talked. Kyle only interrupted here and there to clarify a comment. or to ask a question, but offered no judgements on her situation, nor did he offer false sympathy. They were both aware that the other was damaged, and it was enough to just sit and listen. When she was done, he had learned much about Zai, and it was his turn to share.

Kyle spoke of his own childhood; the alcoholic father, and a Mother who'd deserted him as a child; the decision to join the Army to escape his home; Amy his childhood sweetheart, the only woman he'd ever loved; and revealed details of his service in Iraq that he'd only ever spoken of to the Military Psychologists. How he'd watched as innocent civilians; men. women and children alike; were torn to shreds by mortar shells and how the Government had justified that with the phrase, Collateral damage. The end justified the means.

He told of his return and the time spent in Hospital, and of how his claims of suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder had been summarily rejected, and he'd been discharged without any right to ongoing medical or financial support; shunned and abandoned by the Government that he'd freely offered up his life for. Then, lastly, he’d relayed how, when he'd attempted to reconcile with his estranged, but still legal wife, she'd mocked him by laughing in her face, and confessed she was pregnant to another man. He'd left the city that day, to never return, and the first murder had occurred a week later.

All of his words were issued without anger or frustration, and with complete honesty, accompanied by the thunderstorm outside. Flashes of lightning lit up Zai’s features and her warm-brown eyes, and his own rested upon the latter when he eventually silenced, and her lips parted to speak. Can I trust you, Kyle?"

"You can trust me, Zai, you have my word.” Kyle’s gentleness belied the violence of the acts he was truly capable of, but not to her, not to Azairah. However, as if to she’d heard his response, the man was uncertain, for by the time the reply had slipped from his mouth, she’d fallen asleep. A warmth spread through every fibre of his being as he pulled the blankets tighter around them, and encircled Zai with his arms. He remained that way for the majority of the night, and just watched her sleep, and listened to her breathe, thankful that there were no nightmares. Only when dawn was about to break, did Kyle drift off.

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His eyes fluttered open at the sound of his name being spoken, and Kyle groaned and stretched on the sofa, confused for a moment, and thinking he must still be lost in a dream. Who called his name, where was he? Then it all flooded back as his brain fully awoke, and he swiftly kicked the covers off, and stood. His clothes were rumpled, and still the same he’d worn the previous night to the club as he looked across to Zai.

"Morning. I can smell breakfast from a mile away, and you wouldn't dare eat without me," Kyle replied as he approached her in the kitchen. "However, the first stop is always caffeine.” The man glanced around the unfamiliar kitchen, and then shot her a shrug as he halted, and leaned against the counter. "I'd offer to help, but I don't know where anything is, so how about I just sit back, and watch you display your culinary skills. Rumour has it you're expert with a knife." His dark humour displayed yet another side to the man. "Hope you slept well?"

The comment was a subtle way of attempting to gauge her thoughts, both of the murderous act she'd perpetrated, and, just as importantly now, how she felt about having spent the night in his arms. Kyle arched a brow before his eyes drifted to the television set with the recollection of Adam Hunter, then he refocused on Azairah, and spoke of what else had been on his mind during the night. "I’m considering quitting my job to embark on a road-trip, and thinking that you could accompany me."

From the time he'd first determined to assist her in gaining revenge on Cole Douglas and his cohorts, he'd contemplated how that could best be achieved, and concluded that it couldn't be from Eden; not if they wished to take them all down before they captured. No, they'd need to do it from afar, where they could sneak in to snatch a victim, then disappear back into the ether before returning for their next. "That's if you have no regrets, and are keen to continue?”
 
Sleeping in his arms.

That was all she could think about as she prepared their morning meal. And for once Azairah felt like a woman. A complete woman. Embarrassment flooded her face, growing too hot for comfort as she thought of it. Her stomach turned, not at all displeased with Kyle's choice of action- in fact very okay with it but her concerns were more toward... everything else. Did she snore? Did she drool? It was the first time she was ever concerned about anything like this seeing how he was the first man to ever sleep with her and not try any advances. Nothing more than just embracing her. To wake up and find her face buried in his chest, not alone, warmly breathing him in... Something she could do all day if the chance allowed. And for once sleeping soundly without nightmares was... bliss. Though through all that the actions of the previous night still swam through her mind. A hidden lingering desire wanting more was slowly taking shape. It was never forgotten. Adam's face in his terror was etched into her mind. Her first forever victim. The kill as well as their conversation. Just as Kyle had learned of her, she learned of Kyle just the same. Who he was, where he was from, what he did, why he did things the way he did and it all made sense. His ex-wife had let go of such a great man too. Shame. Azairah didn't judge him. She didn't pick up her phone and call the police, (not that they'd listen to her). She didn't think any different of him. She sat there and listened just as he did and she was content with just that.

If they were going to be partners the least they could do was know each others backgrounds and where their pains came from. They could relate. Kyle's voice startled her from her thoughts and she turned over to see his tall, lean frame leaning against her kitchen counter. Grabbing two plates from an upper cabinet, his comment on said rumor he heard caused her to laugh out loud. "Careful Kyle, those rumors could be true and if you're lucky maybe I could show you sometime... Oh well look at that. Think I might have given myself away." Grabbing a mug, creamer and sugar while she was at it, she poured Kyle a fresh cup. "I also don't know how you like your coffee so we're even. It's hot and it's all yours," she said placing the mug down on the counter next to him. Of course with a simple question Kyle managed to embarrass her. Azairah glanced up at him a minute before a smile caught her bare, plump lips. "I slept very good for once," she said turning away a minute. "Hopefully, it didn't make you uncomfortable? I doubt that considering I woke up still in your arms. Don't spoil me too much though...-"

Out of habit, Azairah reached for his wrinkled shirt and tried with her hands to straighten it out as much as his shirt allowed her to. "-I'm not gonna lie... I think I could get used to that. Sharing body heat with someone is..." From under her long lashes her dangerous brown eyes found his. "Nice." Zai purred, letting the word drag a minute. She pulled away from the other suddenly, preparing their plates before his next words forced her to stop. "Come on now Kyle. I've murdered two people and you've witnessed both incidents." Azairah turned to him, staring him dead in his eyes. "You of all people should know that I don't regret anything. You of all people should know that I want that feeling again." That feeling... Azairah didn't want to admit it. Her whole being was denying it yet she still clearly knew what she wanted. To take. To Kill. She took a deep breath in, chewing down against her lower lip. "I don't have anything to lose... Except you." And finally a deep breath out. "Come eat," she said shaking her head as she took their plates to the table.

Thinking about it now, Azairah had to start thinking like a killer. Or at least be on the same mentality as Kyle. Zai had to start thinking every action through. The pros, cons, consequences of each as well as solutions. If she wasn't careful she could have well endangered them both and the last thing she wanted to do was betray Kyle in any way. That was a total novice thing to do. "What exactly do you have in mind? I have no problem quitting mine. However, how far of a road-trip are we talking here?" she questioned taking a seat. "And who's going to be involved. Or in other words, I should ask, who are we saving."​
 
The scene was one of cosy domesticity; a man and a woman sharing breakfast after a night spent clubbing. Married, lovers, boyfriend and girlfriend, or a simple platonic relationship, it could have been any, and the picture was mirrored in many homes across the County. An everyday couple, indistinguishable from any other. That’s the way it could appear from the outside, and the normality of the situation was almost as eerie a sensation to Kyle as the one experienced after his first murder.

As was the knowledge that Zai, a woman who possessed cause enough to never trust another man, or allow one to touch her, had entrusted him to hold her in his arms as she slept. She’d also revealed details of her life experiences that he doubted she’d spoken of to anyone else with such earnestness and honesty, and he’d returned the compliment, for that's what it was, without hesitation. With her eyes closed, soft breathing, and the faintest of snores, (but no drooling), he’d never imagined Zai could appear so serene or at peace, and hoped that he’d been in some way responsible for that.

Her response to his comment about her capabilities with a knife brought a long-withheld mischievous gleam to his eyes – he wanted to hear her laugh again - and hinted of the person Kyle had been as an adolescent, when the weight of all he’d endured had not yet become too heavy for even his broad shoulders to continue to bear. He swivelld his head to follow her movements. β€œIf that's a challenge Azairah, I’m certain it's one I will win. You’re still an apprentice."

It didn’t feel wrong that they joked about depravities, and although he wasn’t in Zai’s head, he believed that she’d come to terms with her acts, and held none of the regrets he’d been concerned she might. His fears weren't of potential capture, arrest and imprisonment, but ones elicited by a fierce desire to not lose what had he’d recently rediscovered. Possibilities. Of happiness with Azairah. Kyle was aware, deep in his heart, that the killings would never cease, nor would the cravings to maim, and for any of those possibilities to have a chance of being realised, it couldn’t just be that Zai accepted him for who and what he was, and the murders he committed. She needed to be part of them. Part of him. And he, of her.

β€œI was slightly uncomfortable.” The Army Veteran replied as she surprisingly took hold of his shirt, and he felt the warmth of her fingertips against his skin through the fabric. He held a sombre tone even as his eyes scanned her face, and drifted to her plump, soft lips - Oh God, when had he last kissed a woman? - however, couldn’t the maintain the serious demeanour, and swiftly broke out in a grin. β€œYou were so at peace that I didn’t dare move an inch in case I disturbed your rest. Got me a cramp."

Any lingering doubts he still possessed were fully erased with her statement about the two victims, and he nodded in understanding. β€œI know, and so do I. That feeling, Zai, it only increases. The power and control, the thrill and adrenaline rush. No longer does it become just a way to ease your anguish, but it becomes a craving. A need. It becomes fun. And that’s why I wanted to make sure, because I’ll never stop.” His tone contained none of its previously displayed intensity or bleakness; Kyle simply stated facts as he seated himself at the table and sipped his coffee.

He sighed in appreciation when the aroma of the omelette wafted to his nostrils, and the look he provided Zai when he placed his mug down and collected his cutlery was one of obvious admiration, in ode to her culinary skills. β€œI haven't exactly been a social butterfly the last year, so have a little money saved," he responded with a smile, β€œand I figured we'd just hit the road and take in the scenery. Biker bars, road-stops, honky hotels, hitchhikers. Those to be saved will find us.” His intonation on that one word was a reflection of the way Zai herself had spoken it, and his eyes remained on her as he forked a morsel of food in to his mouth.

Politely, he waited until he’d completely swallowed it down before he continued. β€œAs to our eventual destination? I heard one of Cole’s close buddies was intending to vacation in Miami with his girlfriend, and am thinking we could drop in to make their acquaintance.” Kyle swallowed down a second piece of omelette, and arched a brow. β€œDoes the idea of some sun, sand and surf, and posting pieces of your attacker's accomplice back to him in a box, appeal to you, Zai?" The conversation, to Kyle, was as normal could be. "Put the fear of the Devil through Cole Douglas, isolate him from his friends, and leave the asshole in no doubt that, eventually, we'll come gunning for him."
 
There it was. Exactly what she wanted to hear Kyle say.
And the only that that could have probably completed her morning alone.

They were finally taking initiative.

A duplicitous, poised smile brightened up her face suddenly.
Thinking of it clearly, how she could easily return the same pain she'd so generously and selflessly provided to Adam Hunter now to one of Cole's "buddies". Her stomach turned in excitement and anxiousness. "'Appeal' doesn't begin to cover how it makes me feel." She said in slight enthusiasm. "Sand, sun and murder. Sounds like my kind of vacation. Besides, anything that gets me away from this gloomy Eden weather is fine with me," she said before taking a bite out of her breakfast. If anything, Kyle had already wanted her to join him, long before he even thought of it. His plans of a trip had to already be set in stone. If he decided it, it was probably going to happen and with no objections from Azairah, she was just as willing to go along with him regardless. Hell, at this point Kyle didn't even need to ask if she wanted to go anywhere with him. They couldn't go to Hell seeing how they were already living in it but any place at any time with him was better than where she was now.

"I guess that makes us two anti-social butterflies and because of those circumstances it looks like we've got a little cash to spare us this trip if we both pitch in." Azairah was sure if she asked her father he would lend her something but at the same time he was the last person she ever wanted to contact for money. She worked hard for what she had and she didn't want to lower her face for anyone anymore. A thought suddenly occurred to her then. "Kill one and mail the pieces to Cole? Wrap it up and put a nice red bow on top while you're at it. A gift for my favorite person in the whole world." But a sudden seriousness came across her. "The other three I want alive. Can you make that happen for me?" she questioned sudden in a sweet, playful voice. As she consumed her meal, her thoughts were on fire. The possibilities. The torture she could give to all three of Cole Douglas' friends. Her long, dark painted nails tapped impatiently against the length of her fork. It was almost worst that being tortured. Time was the worst. Azairah wanted so many things in just that small moment of time that she just couldn't quite get her hands on. She wanted Cole, she wanted his friend, his girlfriend, his other friends and their girlfriends. Then the smile turned into little laughs- little sudden giggles. A job like this took commitment. So Azairah had killed a man the night before and another before that. There was still no doubt in her mind that she was scared but bailing was the last thing Azairah wanted to do. It was just another form of giving up and giving up meant that Cole won.

Coming down from her fit of small laughter, she began to speak again, putting her fork down. "I want two of them alive and one dead and then we'll save Cole for last. We can't kill them all off so soon. Cole's got to go through the same exact pain I went through, Kyle. He's got to experience it, feel it, drown in it and his friends will watch. They'll watch each other suffer. Even if we have to force them to just like they did with me." Any playful emotion was finally drained from her face. Azairah was serious about it and it almost frightened her. Cole and his friends and their families and significant others- no matter how 'innocent' they were -all had to pay. They all had to know what the consequences of life were. They had to know what it meant to mess around with a Devil in the flesh. "I'll be more than just a Devil to Cole. I'm going to make him regret that he ever even looked at me. I'll make him regret showing up to that party. I'll make him regret his regret his very existence."

Azairah pushed her plate forward just slightly away from her and sat back in her seat. Her appetite was immediately gone and it was always like that when she thought or spoke. Never in her life had she ever wanted to hurt someone so bad before. Destroy everything he'd worked 'so hard' to achieve. Crush his world, his dreams, his hope and expose him for the fraud he was to anyone who ever looked up to him or thought he 'cool.' Who needed to think about what was on her plate when all she could think about was the violence she only dreamed of inflicted onto these savages. "When are you planning on leaving? I'm assuming soon if you're bringing it up right now." At that point, Azairah had heard enough of what Kyle had in mind and just wanted to go. The quicker they got there the better.​
 
The concept had run through Kyle's mind from the moment Cole's buddy, Ian, had walked into the Station with his brunette girlfriend on his arm, and boasted of how he was going to fuck her every which way on their intended vacation to Miami. The twenty year-old woman had giggled, grasped her lover's arm more tightly, and asked if that was a promise. The giggles only intensified when Cole then proceeded to smack her on the ass, and tell the couple that it was a pity he was busy that weekend, otherwise he'd join them. The tone of his words, and body language, left no doubt that he meant not just for the vacation, but to assist his friend in screwing Lauren.

That she'd simply stood there flirting, and playing up to the males attention had sickened Kyle. Was Lauren Brennan aware that the man had been accused of rape and battery, and that her boyfriend had assisted? The ex-Army veteran was uncertain, but he did know that she and Ian had been dating before the incident with Azairah, and that she'd been friendly with Lisa. Another slut, who'd throw away her morals to be seen with the popular crowd. Kyle had no hesitation including Lauren as collateral damage on the way to gaining revenge on Cole Douglas, and the out-of-state trip would make it all easier. The distance between there and Eden meant that he and Zai could commit their crime, then slip back into the ether before Cole Douglas heard news of it. Or received the body parts posted to him in a box, as Azairah now spoke of.

"Of course I can make it happen, anything for you, Zai." Kyle teased as he finished the last bite of omelette, and downed the remnants of his coffee. As she'd talked, he'd remained silent, and taken in her enthusiastic response to his plan. A smile played across his lips at the thought that the petite woman he breakfasted with could be even more perverted and darker than he with her intentions. Or at the very least, his equal. The killings that had occurred up to this point no longer seemed of great relevance, and the television remained off. News of Adam Hunter's body, and how Zai would react to the media attention was neither here and there. She was a murderess, he a murderer, and that's all there was to it.

"Ian and his girlfriend will die, and that will serve as a warning to Cole, and the distance will allow us to remain safe. By the time Cole receives the special delivery, we'll be on the move. No-one's seen us together, and it will take them a while to figure who is responsible. From that moment on, he'll be watching his every step, and peering over his shoulder, as will his friends and colleagues. The man will be a nervous wreck, Zai, shitting his pants whenever he's alone, or hears a strange noise. And when the time's right, we'll snatch Cole and his friends, and they'll experience true Hell here on Earth."

He reached across to place his hand on top of hers, and continued in a tone that was soft, but insistent. "When they do unearth who is responsible, we'll be on the run, however I've friends from my Military days who owe me favours and won't ask questions. As long as we're careful, and smart, we'll be able to outfox them, and remain out of sight." Kyle squeezed her hand in reassurance, and to ensure she understood the seriousness of his statement. "However, where and when this will end up, there are no guarantees. We'll be angels of death as we traverse the countryside, and also the angels of mercy for some, but once we leave there's no going back. No hope of a return to normal life, but what I can promise, with every fibre of my heart, is that I will not allow us to be stopped until we return to take our full measure of revenge on Cole.

Why not do it now. Why not kidnap the men, drag them to the torture chamber in his cottage, and allow Zai to take out every last breath of fury, anger and frustration on the quartet? Have them dead and dismembered, and disappear into the night before their bodies were discovered? Kyle had contemplated that, but he was still unsure if Azairah were ready. She'd killed two men, but both deaths had been relatively quick, and painless in comparison to what he wished to see occur to Cole. If they acted now, they'd immediately be on the run, with no backup plan to fall upon, and would be captured within days.

However, if they delayed, Cole's ex-Army buddies in the underground would be able to provide new identities for them both, which would allow them to remain anonymous. In the meantime Cole Douglas would be forced to endure weeks, possibly months, of mental anguish and fear. Psychological terror, Kyle had discovered, was as hurtful as even the most brutal physical pain, and for Cole to first be made to anticipate the torture to come was the very least he deserved. Although they'd not be there to witness it, technology was a wonderful thing, and there were ways to stay in contact, and appraise the effects of their actions. After they'd exacted their revenge, with their new personalities embedded in their psyche, Canada lay only a few hours north, and was a huge country where two people could easily vanish. Or commence another spree.

Kyle related none of that aloud, however, as he collected their dishes, placed them on the counter, then stepped across to Azairah. He touched her shoulder, more confident than before that she wouldn't flinch at a male's hand, and squeezed. "The sooner the better, I've nothing to hold me here, and the longer we linger, the more opportunity it allows people to see us together. I'll call in with my notice from home, pack and return in a few hours." His blue eyes lifted to gaze around the house, then landed back on her, and he took a step away. "Pack everything you need, there's a chance that you might never see this place again." Kyle smiled, and held her eyes. "Soon we'll be on our way to Florida."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Four hours later, after he'd given immediate notice to Sheriff Brock Douglas, packed two suitcases into his pickup, along with a cache of legal and licenced hunting equipment, Kyle returned to Zai's.

Although it had all happened swiftly, the man had treated it as an army operation - quick and decisive action - and hadn't stopped to second-guess his decisions from the moment he'd departed her residence. It was only when he rapped his knuckles on her front door that he finally took a moment to contemplate what the discussion with Zai and her act of the night before had reignited within him. An urge to take another life, and for Azairah to view his capabilities.

A map lay on the passenger seat, opened with back-roads marked. Roads that would take them dense forest, and mountains on the journey to Florida. Where they could remain un-noticed and under the radar, and where they most likely run into others who attempted the same. Suitable candidates wouldn't be difficult to find.
 
Azairah immediately understood the risks that came with partnering up with Kyle. She understood that there was no returning to her normal, repetitive life anymore. Nothing was going to be the same the minute she stepped foot outside of her home with her bags packed. But she was prepared. Azairah was prepared to carry the name "Murderess" with two open arms, with no hesitation, with not an once of regret. Kyle.. her dear Kyle... She was glad she met this man. Truly grateful but the sound of another name that wasn't Cole's caught her attention as well as Kyle's warm hand against hers. "Anything for me? Such a gentleman you are, Kyle," Zai sat up a moment before Kyle got up reached her slender form over the and kissed his cheek. "So 'Ian' is one of their names. Ian and his precious girlfriend are the first to go then." Never in her life would she ever have thought she'd be plotting murder. Sure when someone managed to piss her off she'd thought of ways they could die but this was different. There was always a first for everything. Even murder. With Kyle's hand atop hers, Azairah placed hers over his and squeezed gently. She believed in him, 100%. Kyle had more trust from Zai than she had ever given anything. Her stomach remain in knots as Kyle then raised from his seat and put their dishes away as she took her seat again. Hearing his promise made her smile. No one had ever promised anything, let alone with their heart to Azairah and if they did, they didn't mean it like how passionately Kyle did. It was probably why Azairah liked him so much. Her eyes watched him move and take their dishes. Azairah was close. She was so close to having what she wanted.

Finally.

Feeling his familiar hand against her shoulder, Azairah turned her head slowly up at the other. "I'm finally being given a chance to escape. This house is the last place I'd want to spend the rest of my miserable life in." If only Kyle had truly known how much of a prison it was than a 'warm home.' Given this chance was as if finding bail and finally fleeing her long endured sentence. All because of Kyle. She stood, nodding as he spoke and moments later he was gone. Though not for too long. When he'd returned, Azairah was packed. Two bags, important documents that couldn't be left behind and her body was all she brought and if she had the choice she'd burn the place down too. As ambitious as she was to do such a thing it wasn't an option. That alone would have caused too much unnecessary attention. Azairah, just like Kyle, quit her job without explanation. Just as friendly a farewell she could give since it was the last time she'd ever be speaking to them. It wasn't until there came a knock at the door did she realize that everything was official. Like a new book being opened for the first time, a new journey, a new page in her life.

Along with Kyle's belongings, Azairah placed hers next to Kyle's and entered his truck. Her car remained untouched in the garage as the rest her house soon would. She was finally being the chance to leave Eden, to leave her prison. Carefully picking up the marked map on her designated seat Zai placed it against her lap before she read over it carefully. Azairah smiled and she couldn't help it. It was like she was living in a movie, a fantasy, a dream. Though it was more of a nightmare than anything. Going on the road, driving two days to go kill a boy who'd gone to far with his friends. Sounded plausible. "Figures you'd have this thoroughly mapped out," she said once he'd entered his vehicle. The fact that he precisely had the back roads of Eden to Miami marked gave her an ease at her anxiety. But a back road didn't mean they'd be the only ones using it. Running her fingers through her dark, slightly damp hair Zai felt the car start up and Kyle pulled out of her parking space.

And here she told herself she wouldn't look back as they pulled away yet she turned her whole body and watched as her house got smaller and smaller as Kyle drove off. Of course there was going to be some sort of lingering feeling for the place but not enough to have her second guess her decision. It was better being with Kyle and on the run for god sake than being shelled up and miserably alone. She wouldn't dare say it now but in time Kyle was owed a major thanks. For being the one behind the one-way glass. For seeing her the night of her first kill. For sending her the message letting her know it was okay. For sharing his desires no matter how wild they were. For accepting Azairah and her needs. It was all because of him and he deserved thanks. Returning to her forward position as her home was finally out of sight, Zai pulled on her seat belt and turned to fact Kyle a minute. "What's her name?" she questioned suddenly. "Ian's girlfriend I mean. What's her name?" She'd figured he'd know since it seemed Kyle was all ears when anyone least expected it. Not that she cared much for who she was, it would at least light a fire under her ass knowing she wasn't just killing 'Ian's girlfriend' but instead a daughter and possibly sister and she didn't care.

"I want you to be the one to kill her and I want Ian to watch." Demands, demands and not a single 'please'. At least the sweet murderess knew what she wanted it. "That's not too much to ask for right?" she said turning to her dear murderer. "You have to show the 'apprentice' how it's done anyways, right?" she laughed. "Anyways," she started again. "Give me a run down of what's going on. You've got marked maps and tones of gear in the back I can only image that this situation is as serious as it gets basically." She'd been thinking- a lot of thinking at that. "You do these kind of things alone typically. You blend into the crowd and no one expects it and you get yourself out of there way before anyone can really suspect anything. How's something like that work for a novice like me?" It was a concern, because Azairah in no way wanted to put Kyle in danger. She'd thought of this over and over. That 'what if' scenario replayed in her head so many times she'd gotten a migraine. "Is it too soon and too stupid to ask you ahead of time that if anything happens to me to just leave me behind?" It was nausea all over again and they barely started their trip. Azairah hugged her stomach.

It was definitely stupid.

And too soon.​
 
This was the second occasion the ex-Army veteran had decided to move on, and leave all behind. However, the difference this time, was that he had nothing to leave, except a job where he despised the cowards he worked with, and instead of getting far away from a woman before he murdered her, he was taking one with him on a mission to kill.

Precisely how Zai felt about the likelihood of never sleeping in her own bed again, or the lost chance to continue with a somewhat normal life, Kyle wasn't certain. However, with the stories she'd told the night before, and expressed eagerness to accompany him, he was confident that she hadn't agreed because she'd felt pressured, or had no other choice. What was here for her, anyway, except the constant reminder of the vicious rape that had led to them meeting. The chance for revenge on Cole Douglas could be planned and enacted from afar, and they'd no longer need to deal on a daily basis with the human sewage that populated the cesspool of Eden.

Showered and changed into a pair of fresh Khaki's with a light cotton shirt - vacation attire - he shot her a soft smile, and assisted her with placing the luggage in the truck without entering the residence. It was a strange sensation, the thought of heading to the Tropical climes of Florida, accompanied by an attractive woman, with the true reasons behind their trip momentarily forgotten as they clambered into the vehicle. They could have been a normal couple, headed for a beach holiday.

It was when Zai commented on the marked map that it re-entered his mind, and he tilted his head to meet her eyes with his, which, as they had done more and more lately, crinkled with good humour. "You can take the man out of the Army, but you can't take the Army out of the man," he replied, and nodded at her hand. "I figured we'd take the scenic route; less chance of running into anyone we know, and the longer we're not known to be acquainted, the longer it will take them to put it all together."

His expression had gained a little seriousness when he'd finished, and turned back to the road; it not taking long to reach the outskirts of the town, and turn off the highway onto a rural road in the direction of their destination. Both of his hands gripped the wheel, and he appraised Azairah out of the corner of his eye as she spoke. The traffic was light as he expected, and after a few moments contemplation, he allowed his natural instincts to take over the driving, and focused his attention to the woman in the passenger seat. "Her name's Laura. Laura Brennan. She's twenty, and works as a waitress. Been friends with Cole and his cohorts since High-School."

Kyle shrugged. He'd done his research, and briefly wondered if that was odd to Zai, before he continued. Her request had surprised him, but he hadn't allowed it to show. "They've dated for two years, and conveniently for us, which is what led to the idea in the first place, Ian's Father owns a cabin in the Everglades. That means it's isolated, and we can take our time. Plenty of opportunity for the apprentice to learn, and Ian won't miss a beat. I do believe, in the station with Cole, he did mention wanting to hear her scream." Anything for Azairah.

The miles had flown past, and he hadn't even thrown a backward glance over his shoulder as he organised the rough strategy in his head before expressing it aloud to Zai. "Nothing is set in stone, however I figured if you wanted Cole to know who it is coming after him, and what you're capable of, we'd only be safe for a couple of days after finishing with Ian and Laura, before the authorities were on our tail." His gaze moved back to her. "So I thought we could use that time to visit my army buddies, and arrange new identities. Once we have those, unless we do something stupid to attract attention, we're home-free, and from there we can slip in and out of Eden to take the rest of them, leaving Cole for last. And, in the meantime, assist anyone else we run into who requires saving.

No longer did Cole's words contain the intensity they previously had, and the emphasis on that last word was one of lightness "However, remember we're equal partners, Zai, and you have as much say in where this journey takes us as I do. I wouldn't have it any other way". Then his own stomach fluttered and sank at her next statement, and the man briefly averted his gaze to compose himself, and swallow down the lump in his throat.

When he looked back, Kyle's expression was soft, and he removed one hand from the steering wheel to place it over hers. "Nothing will happen to you, whilst you're with me, and if it did, I'd sacrifice myself rather than leave you behind. Trust me. Okay?" Kyle squeezed her hand, and continued to stare for a few more moments, before his countenance changed, and he attempted to inject some lightness into the atmosphere. "As for tonight, why don't we just stop some place where nobody knows us, or cares, and enjoy ourselves. Go bowling or to the cinema, dinner and a drink. Kill someone." Kyle grinned at that last. "I'll even let you choose. Who ever said I wasn't a gentlemen?"
 
Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It was such a stupid thing to say.

Feeling her face warm up in her slight embarrassment, Azairah turned away and out towards her window. Of course Kyle wasn't going to let her risk herself. Of course he'd say he'd sacrifice himself. Even if they were two murderers, Azairah was still a woman and Kyle was still a man and things like this had usually never ever been said to her. It was new, strange and left unsettled butterflies in her stomach. But it was nice. "I trust you, I do. I swear," she replied with a nervous laugh, feeling his warm hand atop hers. Without hesitation, she let her small hand curl around his and squeeze before she let go and let Kyle return his hand to steering wheel. So her name was Laura. Laura Brennan, twenty- right in the prime of her life and soon just another dead body kindly killed by the so generous duo. "A cabin in the middle of the good ol' Sunshine State." Azairah grinned, artfully as a stir of thoughts rummaged her mind. "Jeez. This leaves way too many options to choose from now." Azairah turned to the window once more, resting her arm against the side of the passenger door and resting her head in her hand. "I'm sure you're plenty aware-" she began again softly. "-but there are very hungry gators in Florida, Kyle. I'm sure they'd enjoy the company of a 'hot', twenty year old."

This was exactly what Azairah D'Amici always wanted to be. This was what she wished for so long to let out. Within the depths of her deep, dark center was a duplicitous, hidden sadist who wanted to see people in pain and anguish for her own selfish satisfaction. The murderess could easily get used to it. Hell, it took no hesitation to kill Adam, none the time before then. It wouldn't be any different for some couple who just happened to be friends with Cole Douglas. It was just getting rid of the trash, clearing the path before she could have what she wanted. It was like a drug- an addiction. She craved more it. A new high for her body as she felt in complete control. Zai could understand why Kyle said killing Lisa had turned him on and yet the devious, conniving side of her that Kyle was slowly helping to expose wanted easily to take advantage of that. No one had intellectually, or mentally stimulated her like Kyle had and it was what attracted her to him. Even prior to the scene with Cole, Azairah hadn't ever found herself attracted to anyone. No one but Kyle. Azairah pushed the thoughts of blood and lust to the back her mind for the moment. Another chance of normalcy wasn't a bad idea because even if they were just man and woman- two 'normal human beings', they were still murderers and that would never escape them no matter what. Instead, perhaps they could just ignore it for the moment and be... people. Folding up the map and setting it down next to her, Zai pulled at her jacket. "Oh? Well look at you," Zai teased. "Already asking me on a second date? How thoughtful. A gentleman indeed." Taking it easy with a pair of fitted jeans, plain V-neck shirt and hair up in a messy bun for once was strange. No make up, just her scars in all their glory, and yet Kyle still didn't stare. It was those little things that made her feel more and more comfortable around him. It was things like this that made her accept him as a man. Taking plenty note of his lightness Azairah was all smile again and her eyes followed the road for the time being.

"Movie and a-" Though his next suggestion had her showing teeth. "Kill sounds perfect if I do say so myself. Can't say killing someone is entirely normal to others but I like the way you think. I suppose it's our version of normal." It was... fun. Azairah D'Amici could finally- after her experience with Adam and breaking down in her happiness- say it was fun. It was exhilarating and thrilling. The adrenaline that eases through the body when the first blow lands when they're not expecting it. Watching them fall, crumble, writhe and dance in pain. The tears, the begs, the pleads. The all too famous 'I'll do anything, just let me go.' Zai had just a taste of it. It was something Kyle was doing for years but now he had someone who understood with him. Now that Azairah had words for the feeling that came with their actions, it came about easier. But did make her sound crazy? Who knew and who seemed to care? It was simply two people doing what they loved. Stretching in her seat and feeling the seat belt resist against her, a deep sigh left her lips. "Under one circumstance though. It's your turn. Your kill partner. I've done the last two. Besides," she said softly. "I'm just an 'apprentice.' Shouldn't you be showing me and guiding me, dear teacher? Or am I doing it better than you? I'm pretty good huh?"

It was nothing but innocent talk.
Azairah only knew what she'd experienced in the last few days. Which was probably nothing next to Kyle- compared to someone trained to kill. No harm though. Kyle had a twisted sense of humor that Azairah enjoyed thoroughly. No normal person would have found them sane. But what of it? Between the two of them, it was their means of connecting and trusting. It was their means of being the best they could be as a partnership. In the end whether Kyle wanted to be called one or not, he was Azairah's personal savior and she owed him and she'd pay him with a thrill. A thrill and some kills. Making master pieces together.

Day turned to evening as evening to night and hours within their trip Azairah was out cold, hood of her jacket up covering her head as she slept. Losing track of exactly where they'd made it to, she felt the car slow down and her sleep was disrupted by bright lights of a dingy, quiet gas station in what looked like the middle of nowhere to her. "Where are we," she said with a tired, sleep filled rasp of a voice. Finally, it was time to stretch her legs. They'd driven the whole day so it was obvious that they were no where near Eden. Pulling off her seat belt and rubbing her face she stepped out of the car. The air was chilly, the roads dark except for the occasional passing car. Moving around the truck Azairah observed the area. It was a quiet gas station. A really quiet gas station. How they were making profit was beyond Azairah seeing how it was the middle of God damn no where. Trees the left, trees to the right and one long dirt road. The gas station itself was filthy but that meant nothing if they were still in business.

Over by the building were two girls who were already staring them down and whispering to one another. It was obvious Kyle and Zai weren't from town but all the more reason not to be staring. A short, scrawny dirty blonde in nothing but an overly tight pair of shorts and a crop top purposely cut down the center to reveal the gifts she probably had someone pay for and flannel tied around her waist and brunette in a short jean skirt with a cropped off tank top stood at the doors of the building, rocking their bodies nonchalantly against the wall. It was amazing really. How the two of them thought it was okay to leave their house like so. Zai's logic was dress like trash and trash finds it way to you. Lest we not forget that trash smells and the smell is always hard to get rid of. It was clear they were plotting something, but sad and unfortunate for them, Kyle and Azairah were the absolute wrong people to be plotting anything against.

And here all Zai was looking for was a little bit of normal.

A chuckle slipped as she eyed the two girls, giggling as their eyes followed Kyle. Poor things. "Looks like you've got yourself two fans," she teased meeting Kyle around his truck, watching the giggling girls.​
 
In the moments of silence as Zai glanced out the window, Kyle realised just what it was he'd been searching for. He'd promised to love and cherish Amy for the remainder of their days, but she'd left him for another man, he'd joined the Army to protect his country, however they'd turned their back on him. Both, he'd have his sacrificed his life for, but with both, he'd failed.

Kyle Evans was a failure as a man, and tears came to his eyes as he recognised that Zai was his opportunity for redemption, and he held on to her hand as much to reassure himself that she was real, rather than just part of one of the recurring nightmares that had been part of his life for so long, as for her comfort. And it wasn't because he considered her weak, or that she required protection, but because he'd witnessed for himself her inner strength, and what the woman was capable of enduring. Azairah D'Amici was worthy of sacrifice.

As she spoke again, the thoughts remained in his mind, but were not evidenced in his expression when his piercing blue eyes met her soft brown ones, and he responded over the peaceful, rumbling sound of rubber hitting asphalt. The woman possessed a dry sense of humour, and the way she talked of Laura brought a grin to his face that matched hers. "Straight out of a horror film," Kyle replied as he reluctantly slipped his hand from hers to place it back on the steering wheel. "An isolated cabin in the woods, hungry gators, and two depraved psychopaths on the loose, baying for blood. The only difference is that, unlike Hollywood, it won't have a happy ending, and the lone female won't survive." As intense as the topic was, the man spoke with lightness, and humour lit up his countenance. "I wonder if gators prefer live bait."

He wasn't accustomed to lengthy, unforced conversations, however, with Azairah, he found words came without conscious effort. Kyle wanted to make Zai laugh. Well maybe that wasn't the full truth, he wanted to hear her laugh because the sound of it sent a warmth through his heart, and made him feel content. Possibly that's why the offer of a date slipped from his mouth, and he immediately shook his head. Oh god, they'd just colluded to kill three people, and were on the way to murder two more, and he'd asked her out to dinner and a movie? How clichΓ©! Fortunately, he'd added a third option, and that suggestion did garner her interest. "Of course, since our first went so smoothly, and it's not as if there's a lonely hearts club website for knife-wielding maniacs, so I figured you'd have to say yes. Your other choices are rather limited."

Kyle grinned as he repaid Zai for her teasing about the apprentice being better than the master, then refocused his attention on the road as it narrowed, and the forest closed in. "And, as unique as you are, Ms D'Amici, I see that you still expect the man to put out the trash. Fine, my kill, and I'll demonstrate how to do it properly." A completely normal conversation for the two of them, and as much as Kyle wanted to help Zai become whole, and gain revenge on Cole Douglas, the meeting of their minds had created something else. The concept of murder for fun.

As the miles passed, morning turned to afternoon, then afternoon to dusk, and Zai dozed, Kyle enjoyed the quiet as much as he had their conversation. It provided the opportunity to watch her as she slept, listen to the sounds of her quiet breathing, and scan her face to take in every minute detail of her features, and the contours of her scars. Not in curiosity of where they were obtained, but in appreciation of how they added to her beauty. He only pulled his gaze away when she woke as the engine spluttered to a stop at the isolated gas station.

Isolated that was, except for the two women, who looked exactly what they were. Trash. Kyle noted them simultaneously with Zai as he answered, "Bumfuck nowhere," with a smile, then yawned, stretched and appraised the rusty, dust-coated pumps. The gas station appeared closed, but to his surprise, fuel still flowed and he began to fill the truck.

"Hey baby, what you looking at?" The brunette's high-pitched squeal assaulted his ears-drums like nails on a blackboard.

"You want some of this?" The seconds girl's was no more inviting as she turned her back, bent over and slapped one hand against her denim-clad ass.

Kyle ignored them, and rolled his eyes at Zai. That was until the dirty-blonde, obviously looking for a reaction, called out again, "I bet that skinny bitch of yours don't satisfy you like I could?", and the two of them giggled at their own wit like fifteen year old school-girls. However, instead of responding, Kyle shot them a death-stare, placed the nozzle back in the pump, locked the gas tank, and stepped towards Azairah,

"Where'd you get those scars; your man beat you, honey?"

"Fucking trash. Come on Zai, and watch out, they could be contagious." Kyle's insult only elicited two loud witch-like cackles as he grasped Azairah's elbow, and led her inside, where an elderly, half-deaf, hunchbacked man sat behind the counter, oblivious to the women outside.

That might have been the end of it, if on their exit, the rear passenger side door of Kyle's truck hadn't been opened, with the brunette's
head inside, and her ass stuck high up in the air.

"Get the fuck out of there." Kyle screamed, reached for Zai's, and began to run just as the woman straightened, holding the laptop he'd thrown on the backseat in her arms.

"Come and get it, honey," she responded in a drug-induded giggle, then quickly scurried off to join her friend who waited at the edge of the forest, before both disappeared into the trees.

"Fucking bitches."

Evans puffed as he and Zai reached the truck, and momentarily pondered whether to give chase on foot, before flicking his companion a smile, and motioning for her to enter. "Buckle up, we're going off-road."

The first error the girls made was to assume that he'd not chase them, the second, that, in the unlikely event he did, it would be on foot, and the third, to chose a well-trodden track, which made their journey easier, but also increased visibility, instead of moving further into the dense forest where they could remain hidden. As the engine screamed, and leaves scraped the paint when the vehicle flew threw the air and landed on the dirt-track, there they were, about a hundred yards ahead, illuminated in the high-beams of his headlights. That's when they made their fourth mistake.

The man had long ago learned about the idiocy and lack of common-sense thinking capacity of human beings when in danger. In any attempt to escape, they tended to take the path of least resistance, which is exactly what the blonde and brunette did. After they'd turned when the lights landed on them, with their eyes widened in surprise, they then swiftly pirouetted and began to sprint down the same trail.

If only then, they'd jumped off to the side, into the trees and bushes where the truck could not have reached, they still may well have escaped. However, they didn't, and Kyle grinned at Zai when the car reached sixty miles an hour, slid in the dirt, flew over the bumps, and the figures of the two fleeing girls grew larger through the windscreen.

As the vehicle approached to within twenty yards, possibly having becoming aware of their stupidity, the women finally stopped running, and turned to face the oncoming vehicle with expressions of horror pasted on their features, and arms outstretched, palms face-out, as if that could halt two ton of steel. Kyle flicked the steering wheel to the right, and a moment later, a huge metallic bang echoed through the cab when the bull bar collected the brunette's knees and smashed them to pieces. Then, in slow motion, her body collapsed, and inch by inch, disappeared beneath the undercarriage.

The noise of her bones splintering, and head and torso whacking against hot metal, carried on for a few seconds, before what remained of the now deceased and half-dismembered girl was released. When it was, Kyle hit the brakes, threw the truck into reverse, and drove over her again, just to make sure.

Bright red arterial blood, bone fragments, and torn pieces of flesh glimmered in the moonlight that filtered through the canopy of trees when, still in reverse, he expertly pulled a one-eighty and came to a stop in front of the blonde, who remained in the middle of the dirt-track with hands on her head tearing at her hair, teeth bared in a terrified scream, and tears rolling down her cheeks.

Kyle glanced at Zai, then leaned over to unlatch the glove-department, and withdrew an ivory-handled hunting knife with a six-inch serrated blade. "Shall I do the honours, or will you?," he asked as the woman's howls pierced the night air.
 
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