The Bloody Rose

I'm a serial killer. i kill to live, take priests' place and kill the beautiful sinners of the world to clean it out. i was confessing my next victim and got something bigger than a simple kill.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned…I’ve not ever confess before in my life” Said the deep young voice from the other side of confessionary. “I have done every single capital sin” His voice holds almost a delight tone as he said this.

“Tell me your sins son. God will forgive them. God’s forgiveness seen no end” I said my practiced lines the ones I’ve said to many of my victims. Hiding the female characters of my voice, in this I was an expert already for all the months I’ve done this.

“I have sin father”

“Tell me your sins and your forgiveness will be due.” I’ve heard this line in some movie I don’t recall

“I love Roses. I hunt for them. That’s been my biggest sin.”

“We all love Roses; they are a beautiful creation of God himself”

“Indeed” He said “I can recognize them anyway I go. They stand out from the crowd” he took a deep breath and let it out. “I have sin so many times the same sin that I don’t know which time to tell you. Will you prefer the first or the last?”

“Tell me the first and work your way to the last son. I have all the time you wish from me” I was already an expert in this role playing, to my clueless victims.

“We’ll would be here for days if do” He stated to me.

“Well, tell me the last then”

“Great choice!” He said almost happily.

“It was few hours ago father and lust still lingers in me.” He stopped and I felt him move on the other side his silhouette the one from a handsome man. Beautiful and young just the way I like them. “I like to see plays in Broadway. You see these are the best places to find Roses. She played a small role”

“Ah you’re talking about a girl.” I exclaimed almost showing my true voice.

“Yes father. I’m talking about a Rose. I recognize her at first sight, I knew she was a Rose the second I felt her presence. Her bleached white skin, her flushed lips, and the smoothly skin of her breast. Oh father… her breast were so silky, as only the short lived could have. And her sex father…her sex was wonderful, so alive, so human” He stopped, and the silence filled the space really fast. My body tightening in places a confession has never touch. It was as if the velvetiness of his voice was feathers and was running down my body in a carefully pace. I think I heard music in the background; the music of my desire rousing up as he talked of this woman but I felt It was me who he was talking about. I felt was my sex he had loved so much.

“Go on” I command him.

“She was in the back of the theater, after the play have ended, tapping her foot on the floor. Her hands on her trench coats pockets swinging them nervously. ‘Oh Rose I have been in the look for you, my love’ I said to her and she looked at me puzzled. ‘Do I know you?’ she asked taking her right hand fingers to her lips. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you before. I’d sure remember’ I got closer to her and still she was swinging her body from one leg to another. ‘I was on the audience tonight’ ‘Oh of course you were’ She smiled at me happy for my recognition of her, even as she played the smallest role in the play. ‘You look beautiful tonight’ I said to her ‘You’re not bad yourself’ she said eyeing me from head to toe and then back up. I could smell her lust as I can smell yours right now.” He stopped talking as I just understood what he said.

“My… Mm you could smell her lust. Whatever you mean?” I asked nervously

“Well I can smell the… how you call it now days? Ah… pheromones of her. The lust of the women, I can smell it now as I smelled it then” He said as a simple fact. I wasn’t sure how to react about this piece of information, or if I should even believe it. So many freaks I found in my project to clean this world of sinners, specially the beautiful ones.

This guy I would follow when he leaves and kill him slowly in a way that only my god will allow me to do; with a long pointy crucifix I hang on my neck all the time.

The man continued talking as I didn’t said anything for a while. “’Are you in some trouble? You look distress’ I said to her. ‘I ran out of cigarettes’ I took my long finger to my tailored French coat’s pocket and offer her a cigarette as I took one to myself. ‘Thanks so much. You just saved my life’ we light our cigarettes together with my lighter and she eyed it then her eyes went to my shoes and after that to my clean cut tailored clothes. Her Lust stirred up by the recognition of wealth, and I shared a smile with her. She looked thoughtful for a moment then asked ‘You called me Rose?’ her thick accent showing trough her sudden fear. ‘But I don’t go by that name any more. How did you know? Do I know you from before? From Italy?’ this last she said with an accent so think you wouldn’t have understood much. ‘I recognize a Rose when I see it and you sure are a Rose’ I said as bowed and gave my signature rose to her.” This left me perplex as I too use a rose for my signature.

“She loved it. Her eyes widened as her smiled did. ‘Oh a white rose, thanks so much. You’re so sweet.’ She said and got closer to me, her breast pressing on my lower chest she unbuttoned her coat and I slip my hand inside it ‘so warm my beautiful rose’ my hand were on her back and I pressed her even harder to me ‘so very alive’ She shuddered ‘you’re cold’ I smile to her ‘I need the warm of a young rose like you’ She lift on toes ‘Mm I’ll give you the warm you need sweetie’ her thin lips rose mine and I lean down to reach her. A perfect fit. My thick lips, her thin lips.” He went silence maybe recalling the kiss. He startle me when he broke the sudden silence as I was feeling the kiss myself, as I imagine the thickness of his lips brushing mine, teasing mine. “Open moth, I tasted her, so sweet and salty. He tongue melt to mine and didn’t know were mine ended and her began.” He signed and I almost did the same.

“You must know how I look” He again surprised me from the almost peak state that I was with his story that I felt more mine than his. I had to clear my throat before talking.

“No son, I’m here to comfort your soul, your physical image could and must be maintain hidden” After I said this I heard him chuckled.

“I want you to know everything so the sinner could be forgiven properly.” He said this with a delight tone. “I could be called white. And do mean white not Caucasian. My skin, as my shoulder length straight hair, is bleach white, not albino white but almost. My facial hair have staid brown still for this many years but I fear in some more they too will lose they pigment as my hair and my skin lost it with time too. I was not always white, and I was not always what I am not. I was a slave. An African slave, with dark chocolate skin, tick lips, and rough brown hair. I’ve lost all of that, but my thick lips, with the pass of time. First my hair lots it’s life or you could say earn a new one as now it’s straight and silky. I’ve never had a prominent nose but my lips where my mark as an African, they lost their brown color to become somehow pink and I must admit are thinner than they use to be but not by mush. I lost the color of my skin faster than I lost the other characteristic I have mention you, and this was by far the biggest lost I have felt. My chocolate skin was what reminded me my roots. I was taken by the Spaniard as a slave to a Caribbean island this is where I died.” I felt my mouth open with all these things he had just told me. Spaniard? Slave? Gosh he must be older than his voice shows, and sick with some weird illness if he lost the color of his skin. I don’t even know why I even considered he being sane an option this must be the craziest person have confess to me. Did he said died?

“You are wondering how old I am. You are disappointed? That my voice sounds so young and deep. Rest, I am a good looking man, so I’ve been told. A young forever man. But I’m babbling and you lost your mood. I did not mean for that to happen” The image that came to my mind of him, his sexy lips his silky white skin and long hair. Ah I could almost feel his hair brushing my neck as he laid a soft kiss on my lips. Our mouth together parted at the same time meeting out tongues and dissolving into one another, the wetness of his mouth, the sweetness of his taste. I could taste him not with my mouth but with my body. “AHH” he hissed from the other side of the confessionary. I lay back and rest my head on the wooded wall of the confided space and play the kiss two more times not know how long have been I came to reality when I hear him moaned. “So thick… your lust is so thick” He moaned again and I heard his breathing.

I clear my throat frozen by the turn that this confession had taken.

“But I must finish. As our lips part I went down her neck, he sweet skin taste like many others young’s I’ve have but yet it was good enough for me if she was the one. I wrapped my lips on her neck and proceed to penetrate her in the many ways I possibly could. Both at a time, and she exploited in a scream of pleasure like no other she have lived before. But would be the first and the last time she’d taste it, for she wasn’t the Rose I’m looking for, she wasn’t the Rose that would make me feel alive again, no she was not her. The rose was still on her hand as the blood tipped from her neck when I finish drinking her out. Blood dripped fast from her neck and my mouth as I was satisfied for the night. I took the rose with me she did not deserve it. I have done this few thousand times and would only try one more time before I give up. What’s my penance father?” He said with a tone I could call mocking. In that moment sounded how the big doors of the church were being open. Who would be at 2 am? The father I laying dead on his bed now.

“Well son…”I started to say when I notice the other side of the confessionary was empty. I looked out and there was a woman entering the church. “It’s close!” I yelled annoyed at her. She looked scare to me with her eyes rimmed in pink then ran out. I ran out too looking for my victim not wanting to lose the more interesting one I’ve had. I ran and turn to the right with my crucifix in hand, then around the corner and stop dry when I saw a man at the end of the street small smoking a cigarette. I walked slowly to him and was going to walking pass him when he spoke to me

“Hi Rose I’ve been waiting for you, love” His description of himself was by far short; he was white his skin and hair. So purely white and beautiful, enchanting. His thick eyebrow and strong face. The face of beauty, youthful beauty but his eye lacked some shine. Like life itself had leaved them. I let my crucifix fall.

“How did you know?” I asked scared, now starting to believe his story.

“I told you already. I thought you were listing carefully. I know a Rose when I see it. When I sense her presence. Your presence.” He stood from the wall he was leaning on and walk to me. I ran as fast as I could but not for more than two second before he was holding me from behind.

“Ssh calm down Rose. You’re my last try. My last chance of feeling alive.” His thick lips wrapped my neck and his tongue teased my skin slowly, and felt how once again he made my body react, my mind went crazy, but worse or better now that he was actually touching me. Hi hands cupped my breast. He knelt and laid me on top of him my back to his chest. “So thick…Your scent, so sweet. Rose…Rose…Rose” He repeated my name while he kissed and licked my neck. His hands unbuttoning my shirt and I found myself helping with my pants. Before I knew it we were naked on a dark street of Manhattan, now him on top of me, whispering sweet words of a long future together if I only was the one. He caressed each part of my body with care then said “It’s time Rose.” Laying on me his mouth went to my neck and his groin press to mine. He penetrated me, his mouth and his hips moving in unison, then he pull apart with a satisfied look, and went back to my neck and lick the blood that was dripping.

“Here” he said taking out something from his trench coat that lay next to us. It was a white Rose. A white bloody Rose. Then he said “You’re my one and only Rose”

Reviews

[Cherrie Palmer]

The story itself is very gripping, you need to go back over it. Read it aloud and fix some grammer issues
with your tenses but other than that I enjoyed it very much.