Black Cockles

    "The shadowy figure walked slowly and stealthily, despite being encumbered by the heavy load he carried down the narrow, tree lined path, towards his destination. The half moon shone brightly in the cloudless sky, guiding his way. He sweated profusely beneath the dark boiler suit he wore and black ski mask; not through exertion but from fear tinged excitement. He fought to keep his breathing even and under control, fearing that he would be heard, although he was confident that at this late hour he was completely alone.
    When he reached the end of the trees, he placed his burden on the ground and removed his mask to wipe his brow with the back of his gloved hand. His eyes darted left and right, looking for any signs of danger, his ears attuned to any sound that was out of place. Hearing nothing but the gentle lapping of the ebbing tide on the sandy beach, he replaced his mask and continued with his load, across the sand dunes towards his goal.
    The shifting dunes sucked at the flip-flops he wore, which were two sizes too big for him and his only concession to his otherwise black appearance. They slowed his progress but were a necessary requirement and part of the plan he had gone over in his mind, time and time again. This time it was for real and he couldn’t afford to make a mistake; he wouldn’t allow himself to make a mistake.
    Before emerging onto the beach, he stopped once more to wipe away the sweat that trickled down his forehead and stung his eyes. Once again he held his breath and listened. The beach and the dunes in particular, were notorious haunts for young couples who came down to fornicate. They were no better than animals and he despised them all.
       He stared down the beach in both directions just to be certain he was alone and unobserved. He smiled to himself certain that he was. Picking up his load, he took the final steps towards the high tide mark on the moonlit sand, his excitement almost overwhelming him. His heart was racing, his blood pounding in his ears so loudly it almost drowned out the sound of the waves, gently kissing the beach.
    Time was now critical, now that he was exposed. He carefully laid his load down just above the high tide mark in the soft sand and pulled the tarpaulin open to reveal the naked body of a young girl. Her body stood out starkly against the dark shroud she was encased in, shining reverently under the bright moon. He gasped at the beauty of it, as he lifted her off and placed her in the sand.
    He didn’t know her name but he knew her kind. She was nothing but a common tart. He had seen her two days earlier, sunbathing topless on the beach. He approached her and told her that he thought what she was doing was immoral and that she should be ashamed of herself, despite the fact she was well away from the crowds and unlikely to cause offence. She had smirked and taunted him and made fun of him but he didn’t care, he would have the last laugh.
    He had watched her for the next two days, remaining out of sight, watching, waiting, full of hatred, biding his time. Tonight she had left the pub alone after closing time and made her way home. He already knew where she lived and that she lived alone and waited until she was inside. After making sure he was unseen, he knocked confidently on the door. When she opened the door he barged in and immediately pressed the chloroform soaked cloth over her mouth and nose, stifling her screams.
    After carrying her upstairs, he laid her on the bed and stripped her with trembling hands, his excitement mounting. He photographed her many times from all angles, before stripping and masturbating into his handkerchief.
    As she began regaining consciousness, he put the nylon cord around her neck and strangled her, staring into her frightened bulging eyes. He smiled broadly at her, as her tongue protruded from her mouth and her life slowly drained away. He felt no remorse, only an insatiable appetite for more."