Her blood spurted onto his face as his knife pierced her chest. The killing blow. The end.
Her scream was cut off, ending in a wet gurgle as blood spilled from her mouth. Isaac watched as the light, the life, left her pretty blue eyes. A living person, a real soul, gone, with just the stab of a blade. The adrenaline rush, the power, surged through him as he wrenched the knife out of her body.
He looked over the destruction he had caused. She was almost naked, wearing only underwear, while tied to a bed with no mattress; the harsh, pointed bed springs had cut into her skin, leaving spots of blood on the concrete floor. Her hair was gritty and dirty; her skin was splotched with purple, blue and green -- marks of the torture Isaac had inflicted on her in the last two weeks. She had lost a lot of weight from starvation.
Isaac had never seen a more beautiful sight.
Smiling like a maniac, he crossed the room and ascended the stairs to the first floor. Isaac lived alone in a huge mansion just outside of the city; the large inheritance he had received from his parents paid for his killing location. The torture chambers were hidden in the basement.
It was six a.m. Isaac ran upstairs, showered and dressed for work. On the way to work, he stopped at a local coffee place.
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