Wrath White - Succulent Prey

Joe walked into the next room and into the kitchen. He used dish detergent and a sponge to wash the blood from his face, hair, and body. When he was done he mopped the already splintered and warped hardwood floor. He emptied the contents of the bucket and refil ed it with more water and PineSol, added some bleach, then dragged the bucket into the bedroom. He thought it would be wise to clean up a little before trying to drag Alicia out of the bathroom. He didn't know how much she had seen through that little crack in the door, but he could at least spare her the further trauma of seeing the aftermath of his passions.

Emma Purcel 's mauled and masticated remains disappeared into a plastic bedsheet and a cheap area rug. She was then dragged into the next apartment where her corpse would sit and decompose until Joe could figure out what to do with it. Al evidence of her death in that dingy little bedroom was scrubbed with ammonia and washed down the sink. When Joseph turned toward the master bath door, the room looked even cleaner than it had before he kil ed Emma. The acrid pungency of ammonia and bleach had completely masked the smel of fetid blood.

The beautiful Spanish girl with the ful red lips, the caramel skin, the luxurious mane of curly black hair, thick meaty hips and thighs, ful breasts, and fat perfectly rounded ass, sat in the bathtub shivering. She rocked back and forth moaning quietly.

"Alicia?"

At the sound of his voice she began to scramble like a trapped animal, trying to claw her way through the shower tiles.

Her wrists were stil bound but somehow she had gotten her arms from behind her back to the front. Her shoulders were turning blue and Joe suspected that she had dislocated them. Cautiously he approached his traumatized victim. He reached out and careful y removed the bal gag from her mouth.

"Alicia… I'm sorry that you saw that. I didn't mean for you to-"

"You ate her! You ate that woman! She was screaming and you just kept biting her!" She began to tremble convulsively as the image of this gorgeous man that she'd once been so excited about sleeping with, cracking open that woman's rib cage and ripping her heart out as if he were shucking an oyster from its shel flashed through her mind. She recal ed his face, covered in an oily red mask of blood and tissue, his eyes wild with an unfathomable bloodlust. This man who she'd almost forgiven for chaining her up and biting off her nipples, who she'd begun to fantasize about curing of his psychotic dementia and living happily ever after with.

"Alicia, I'm trying so hard not to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you, but the hunger was getting so strong. I-I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself. I had to do something!"

Alicia curled up into the fetal position at the bottom of the tub and began to cry. Joe reached in and lifted her from the tub. He brought her back over to the bed and chained her up again.

Joe scrambled some eggs and made bacon and toast but Alicia would not eat it so he left it by the side of the bed along with fresh water. He emptied the bucket that sat alongside the bed and replaced it, just in case she needed to use it while he was gone.

"I have to go. I'l be back later." It was far too early for class so Joe walked across campus to the gym, getting there just as the wrestling team was finishing up their weight training and the footbal players were starting to pile in. Joe was bigger and stronger than most of the players on the team. He knew they thought he was crazy for not playing, but he had more important things to do than run up and down a field chasing a weather-beaten pigskin.

Ignoring the loud laughing and joking from the players, Joe began stacking weight onto the bar. He loaded 225 pounds onto the weight bench to begin his warmup and then proceeded to do two sets of fifteen reps with it. He ended by bench-pressing 405 pounds, doing nearly five hundred on the decline press and 365 on the incline. He then did some curls with 180 pounds and finished with five hundred stomach crunches.

With every grueling set of exercises

Joe's mind went inexorably back to

Trent. He couldn't get that damned pedophile out of his mind. He had to find him and kil him and that meant he needed to get a car, preferably a van so that he could transport Alicia without having to lock her in a trunk. He had the librarian's wedding and engagement rings and about forty dol ars from her purse. The engagement ring was a huge solitaire, at least three carats. Her last husband had probably purchased it for four or five grand. Joe thought he might be able to get seven or eight hundred for it at a pawnshop but more than likely he'd have to settle for five or six hundred, an eighth of its value. That meant some very cheap transportation. If he went to a used car lot it would probably be enough fora down payment.

Joe grabbed a forty-five-pound weight and placed it on his chest as he groaned and strained his way through another fifty crunches. When he stood, his abdominal muscles were wound up tight and starting to cramp. He stretched backward as far as he could to loosen them up before he went to hit the showers. By the time he had undressed and stepped into the shower it was empty. Everyone had hurried to finish washing before he stepped in. He made them nervous. Joe knew that as soon as someone found the librarian's body he'd be the first suspect.

He doubted that anyone had seen him going in and out of the abandoned apartment building. The building was located in a commercial area that closed up at night and he never went there during the day. There were nothing but derelicts and drug addicts down there at night after al the businesses closed and they would not be inclined to speak to the police. That's why he had chosen it. He didn't have to worry about nosy neighbors. Stil, everyone knew he stayed at the library late almost every night and he was sure Emma had told others about the type of stuff he read. Besides that, he just hadn't done a very good job at concealing his sexual peculiarities.

No one knew for sure just what his malfunction was, but the general consensus was that the huge psychology student definitely wasn't quite right. His sexual deviancy shone like a beacon whenever he stepped into a room. In many cases it had worked for him, attracting women looking for a new thril, but now he was sure it would work against him once they found Emma's half-eaten corpse in the apartment next door to the one he was squatting in.

Everyone would point the finger at him. Before he left for his trip, he would meticulously wipe down everything in the little apartment and then burn the whole thing to the ground. Everything would be okay. By the time the cops sifted enough evidence from the ashes to connect him to the crime he would be long gone.

Joe started to whistle as he made his way across campus to his psychology class.

Everyone turned to look at him as Joe walked into the room. The cops had been there. He could tel. They had been asking questions about the librarian and his name had come up. That meant they would be back.

Joe slipped down into his seat and stared defiantly at the professor, waiting for him to begin his lecture. They had nothing on him, not yet anyway, so he stil had every right to be there. The professor stared back at him with an expression that was ful of questions and suspicion. His hand shook as he raised it to scrawl on the blackboard. it to scrawl on the blackboard.

The eyes of his fel ow students crawled over Joe's flesh. He imagined he could feel each of their curious stares like a legion of worms trying to wriggle their way into his mind to harvest his thoughts. It made him itch. He scratched the back of his neck as if to rake their stares from his skin. The professor kept looking back over his shoulder at him as he wrote on the chalkboard. Joe knew he had burned that bridge. It was obvious that everyone, including Professor