Tall, Fat, Dressed in Black

The wind that blew threw through the leaves of a dozen trees
hid the sound the tall, fat man dressed in black made as he broke the glass
window to the back door of a one-story light blue house. Pulling away the
duct-tape he had used to make sure the glass didn’t hit the ground and wake up
the woman living in the house, he slid his left arm through the hole it had
made previously. Twisting the deadbolt and the doorknob locks, the man let
himself in.

With agility that didn’t fit his girth, the man entered the
kitchen, being as quiet as possible. Grabbing a knife from the counter-top, he
headed out of the kitchen in search of his prey. As a hunter, the man felt the
absolute need to make the kill. Opening the first door he came to, he found it
to be just the bathroom. Closing the door again as quietly as he had opened it,
he walked further down the hall to the door at the end.

Opening it slowly, carefully, he found what he hunted. A
slight woman with medium sized breasts, black hair, and she was sleeping peacefully
in her bed. He tiptoed into the room and closed the door behind him. Getting to
the bedside caused the fat man to start beading sweat from his forehead.
Holding the knife in one hand, he covered the woman’s mouth with the other. He
brought the knife down to her chest and sliced into her skin. As he did this,
his hand pressed harshly into the woman’s scream barely audible.

He made another cut into her chest, in between her breasts.
The woman, now fully awake and kicking and screaming and clawing uncontrollably,
but the fat, tall man dressed in black did not feel pain when he was in the
moment. His mind was completely focused on his hand with the knife, as it made
thin, shallow cuts all across the woman’s torso. His cock was straining against
his black slacks, painfully being restrained by the tight clothing. He rested
the knife against her ribcage, the tip bring just a drip of blood from the
skin.

“Quiet,” the man said, his voice heavy with desire, dark
with lust, and very, very quiet. The woman, he knew her as Alicia Donovan,
thirty-seven year old bank employee, one child of fourteen years, never
married, and a woman who feared, above all else, being raped again.

“I am going to rape you, whether it be while your alive or
dead is your choice.” The man’s eyes glinted in the moonlight streaming through
the window in the room. He lied, and the woman knew it, but her fear controlled
her now. She stopped her kicking, her scratching of his arm, and her screaming.
Taking his hand from her mouth, he told her, “Turn over.

“And stay silent.” The man unbuttoned his pants and let them
slide down to his ankles. He wore no underwear. The woman was crying silently,
but her sobs racked her entire body. The tall, fat man pushed up her gown when
she was on her stomach and molested her ass. His dick was leaking his wonderful
seed, the seed this very same woman had turned down a month ago. Pulling her
body towards him, so that her legs dangled off the bed, he pushed aside her
white panties, barely containing his excitement.

As he pushed her legs down and separate, the man, sweating
profusely now, could make out the outline of the woman’s cunt. Unconsciously
licking his lips, he wedged himself between her legs and rubbed his cock over
her slit. He quickly heaved himself into her and unceremoniously began to ram
her, whispering over and over again, “Do you like it? Do you like it?”

It didn’t take more than five minutes for the man to shoot
his precious seed into the woman, lay down atop her to catch his breath, and
slide the kitchen knife into her jugular. Pulling up his pants and getting the
lighter out of his pocket, he went into the kitchen and turned on the gas
stove, letting the propane fill the house. But it caught his attention now that
he was more clear headed that the woman he had just killed had a child. The
man, his grin expressing his intentions perfectly walked to the third door in
the hallway.

Opening it just as silently as everything else, he saw the
sleeping body in a small bed, up against the wall beneath the window. He
couldn’t tell if it was male, or female, but to the hunter, that did not
matter. Striding over to the bed, he tore the blanket from the body and was
glad to see that it was a girl. A barely budding girl, a girl with small
breasts, and wearing cutesy polka-dot panties was what he found. His excitement
rising to unmeasured heights, his cock was once again straining against the
tight fabric of his pants. Not wanting to deal with the screams, he just put
his hands over her mouth and nose. After several seconds, her eyes opened, but
she was already starting to lose consciousness.

A couple of minutes later, he had the girl unconscious and
undressed, his hand roaming her body. Nothing quite pleasing him, he decided to
turn her over onto her stomach before going into the kitchen and grabbing
another sharp knife. Jamming it into the back of her throat as he came back to
her unconscious form, he proceeded to enjoy the delights of a still-warm dead
body. His cock pushed into the little girl’s unmoving body, his moans escaping
in short bursts from his sinister mouth. His hand pulled the knife from the girl’s
neck and began to stab her back and shoulders repeatedly as he gorged himself
inside of her.

Tired and spent, the man left the house. Twenty minutes later
as he walked to a place where he could call a cab, he heard a loud boom, and
smiled his horrid smile. The propane and exploded with a spark of something
inside the house. The next morning, the news TV and papers were reporting on
the large explosion and fire that had decimated three houses and killed two
people. With the coroners report, it was discovered that two of the four bodies
found had been murdered.

Knowing that the fire would have burnt all evidence of his
time there, the fat, tall man walked into the bank where he worked, his usual
demeanor back. A pleasant fellow, a man who seemed to smile sincerely, a man
who seemed to truly care about other people. After several hours, and no word
from Alicia Donovan, people started to worry. Until the tall, fat man, knowing
what was on the news, turned on the local news channel on the TV in the staff
break room. Several works started to cry, some were silent, but the tall, fat
man appeared to be the most broken up, as long as you didn’t notice the wicked
grin upon his ugly face.