Crows Calling

The look on his face frightened her. Her anger quickly turned to fear. She pulled her arms away from his tight grasp trying to get away from him, but he was too quick... too strong. Overpowering her, he yanked her back on the bed by her left arm. There was a loud crack as her head hit against the headboard. She gasped with pain, holding her head. The room was spinning. Oh, God, Tracy was right about him. Why? Why? Why didn’t I listen? I’m such a stupid idiot.

“I said, WHO IS TRACY?“ he yelled again, his nostrils flared like a charging bull.

Jodie tried to concentrate enough to think how she would get away from this raging maniac. Her head was too fuzzy. Too much wine. Again, she desperately tried to pull away from this crazed lunatic. Her hand stretched out for the lamp by the bed to use as a weapon. He grabbed her wrist and pushed the lamp to the floor. He slapped her face hard, spinning her head so harsh she felt her neck crack. Jodie let out a loud scream and clawed his face.

He felt his face. Blood. “Damn it, you bitch!” he slapped her face again harder. “Answer me, goddammit, you little whore! Who the hell is Tracy? Tell me now!”

Jodie spit in his face. Momentarily, he froze in disbelief. His eyes narrowed into slits barely open enough to see. “No one treats me like that! Bitch!” The whites of his eyes turned red. His hand pressed heavily on Jodie’s chest holding her body against the bed. She tried to squirm free, but he was way too strong. He reached for the scarf that was lying next to her pillow. Quickly, he wrapped it twice around her neck. Pulling it as hard as could, he twisted and held the scarf tightly. The girl kicked and tossed her body to fight but was unable to budge under the weight of his large athletic body that was straddling her. She tried to scream. No sounds would come out. Gurgles came from her throat as she choked, trying to gasp a tiny breath. Her nails dug into his bare arms until blood dripped from the wounds. Air. She needed air. Only a bit. Please, just a bit of air. Oh, please. As if reading her mind the large man tightened he scarf ... again tighter ... tighter. The lights began dimming. Funny, she didn’t remember blowing out the candle. Then darkness. The light was gone. Jodie’s convulsing body slumped onto the bed. Her eyes staring blankly into his, but she could no longer see the handsome man.

Crouching over the lifeless body, he felt a serge of power shoot through his veins. He was surprised at the renewed feeling of arousal as he gazed at the beautiful young girl laying before him. Who would know if he pleasured himself once again? The more he thought about it, the more erect he became. It was against his nature to deny himself of anything he wanted. Jumping out of bed, he found his trousers where he kept his condoms. He ravaged the young girl’s body as though she were a passionate lover. In a way, this was better than when she was alive. For a moment, he questioned his sanity, but  the power of complete control took over that idle thought. Never before had he felt this utter dominance, which became his aphrodisiac. The sensation was better than any drug.       

Carefully he removed his shirt from Jodie’s limp body. He looked down at Jodie crumpled in her sheets. He pulled the scarf away from her neck and checked for a pulse. Nothing. He walked to the bathroom and looked at his face in the mirror. The wounds on his face and arm were both bleeding profusely. Damn. This will be hard to explain to the wife; he thought as he dabbed his face and arm with a wet tissue and flushed it down the toilet. Taking a washcloth from the bathroom, he wiped down everything he remembered touching. There was nothing he could do about the DNA evidence. His blood was on the sheets and his tissue under her nails. As long as I can get out of here without being seen, there is nothing that can tie me to her. Tracy. Dammit. Who the hell is this Tracy? After dressing he looked around the room, double checking everything and went downstairs and spotted the flowers. He took them from the vase and laid them by the front door beside his briefcase. He picked up the scattered folders and papers that Jodie had flung at him. In the kitchen, he placidly did the dishes, dried them and put them away. At the front door, he remembered the empty wine bottle in the kitchen trash. He dashed back inside and removed the plastic liner from the trash can and put in a fresh one, carefully using paper towels as gloves. He carried the trash to the front door and put the roses in the bag, wiped down the flower vase, and put it back on the table by the door. He turned off all the lights, rubbed down everything on his way out with the washcloth. He locked and closed the door behind him as he held the rag, looking cautiously into the darkness of night. Nothing. No sounds except the peaceful chirping of crickets. He didn’t even disturb their rhythmic cadences as he walked to his car.

Yes, I fooled Jodie for a while just as I fooled all the others...except my wife. And, soon enough, I’ll deal with her as well. “Who the hell is Tracy?” he wondered out loud, as he started his car.