Angelica Of Death

He wanted to taste me.

The words flashed in my mind as I walked through the deserted parking garage. My footsteps echoed on the concrete. My new date asked me to wear a very specific outfit: red high heels, a knee-length black dress, and black pantyhose. It was clear this guy was a fetish freak. A chill ran down my spine at the thought of what he was planning to do to me.

I met him on a dating application I frequent called "Hotness". It was created as a teen meet and greet site, but a bunch of weird old guys joined to hook up with teenagers.

Then a bunch of young girls went missing. The most recent victim was Jamie Anderson, my best friend. The police didn't find any clues to her disappearance. When her naked body showed up in a dumpster, I knew it was time someone did something.

My date tonight calls himself "guy4u83". Assuming "83" is his birth year, he might be the guy I'm looking for. Jamie mentioned an older guy in his thirties. So far I've come across three and none of them seemed like her killer.

I walked to the metal door with "P2" painted in red letters. That was the spot he said to meet. Mister "guy4u83" had creepy murderer written all over him. No sane person would seek out a seventeen-year-old, tell her to dress in red heels, and meet in a parking garage after dark. If he was planning to do something to me, I was ready. I had a stun gun hidden under my dress attached to my thigh with a garter belt.

Minutes passed before footsteps approached. I turned around to spot my date. He was tall with short dark hair. A smile stretched across his handsome face. I stood up with my head held high clutching my purse to my side. No sign of fear showed.

"Hey, are you Angel?"

I managed to crack a smile even though disgust took over. "Yes, I am. You must be--"

"Call me Craig." He extended his hand.

I grabbed it and he pulled me in close. Craig ran his hand through my hair with one arm wrapped around my waist.

"You smell nice," he said with his nose buried in my locks. "I love your strawberry red hair."

I tried to pull away but his tightened his grip.

"I want to taste you," he whispered. His hot breath sent shivers down my spine. His hand crept up my leg.

I pushed it away. "Not here," I said in as sweet of voice as I could muster.

Craig grabbed my wrist and pushed me against the wall. "Why not? No one will find us here."

He pressed against me burying his face in my neck. The stench of his cheap cologne burned my nose.

"Let's play, Angel," he said.

I reached under my skirt and removed the stun gun. "Okay, we can play."

The bastard didn't know what hit him. He dropped to his knees crying in agony. Once I removed the stun gun from his side, he fell back. I kicked him in the side on the head to knock him unconscious.

He was too heavy for me to drag to my car, so I had to do the interrogation in a dark corner. Using his belt and shoelaces, I tied Craig's hands to a rusted pipe. As soon as I was confident in my knot tying skills, I slapped his face a few times to wake him up.

"Hey, Craig, wake up."

His eyes opened a bit then closed again. He let out a deep groan.

"Do you know Jamie Anderson?" I asked in a calm voice.

He opened his eyes once more and pulled at his restraints. I double checked my knots to make sure he wouldn't get loose.

"Focus. Did you meet Jamie? Dark hair, green eyes..."

Craig focused his attention on me. To my surprise, he smiled. "So you like a little bondage don't ya?"

The words sent a chill down my spine. It took every ounce of me not to slice his throat after that remark. But I needed information so the pervert got to live a little bit longer.

"Answer the question. Do you know--"

"Jamie?" He asked with his head cocked to the side. Then he smiled again. "Oh, the sweet little thing that was found in an alley? She sure looked nice in her profile. That long dark hair and adorable smile. I wanted to make her mine. So young and tender."

I backhanded him fighting back tears. He laughed.

"Did I say something wrong, sweetheart?"

I didn't give him the pleasure of answering. He was a creep but he didn't kill Jamie. Still, Mr. "guy4u83" couldn't live to torment another girl. I pulled out a small knife from my purse. Kneeling in front of Craig, I held the knife in front of his face.

"I wanna play with you," I said with a grin.

His eyes widened as the short blade entered his neck. Gargling noises bubbled up out of his mouth with each shallow breath. The cut was small but deep. It was a slow, painful death. One a predator like him deserved.

"Goodbye, Craig. It was a pleasure meeting you." The words flowed out of me although I was freaking out inside.

He was my fourth kill since I went searching for Jamie's killer. The serial killer documentaries always said each kill got easier. When was the easy part supposed to kick in? I couldn't stop with the cheap cologne guy, though. I promised myself I would find the man that took my friend from me.

I stood up, slid the knife and stun gun into my purse, and headed for my car. A lump grew in my throat. I killed a man. No. He deserved it. They all deserved it. I had to clear my head. A deep breath in washed away the sight of his blood. A deep breath out cleared the smell of his cologne.

Determination drove me toward my goal. Besides, I was saving other girls my age better than the cops. I was basically Bat Woman. Or the Angel of death. That sounded better. Angelica Knowles, Angel of Death. I smiled to myself as I walked out of the moldy parking garage onto the dark, lonely streets of downtown.