White Hair

They made such a racket.

"Can't I get moments silence?" he yelled.

Noise. He hated the wrong kind. Turned up the TV, favorite show on. 2 in the afternoon. Flies round the back, just buzzing. They screamed again. Didn't they know not a single soul in 300 miles could hear them? No, they didn't. Fun fact.

"Help me! Someone, anyone, please.....god."

He stared at the set, made a sad face imitating them.

"Oh helps meh, i'm all torn up and bleedin'. I'm naked with a pole in my butt. It hurts so bad. And a bad man wants to kill me. Mommy, daddy, sister, son. Stupid."

Again with the noise. His face hardened. He got up, reached over the table, grabbed the blade then walked to the shed. Unlocking, opening it, they were silent. Switching on the dim yellow lights, they saw him and started to moan. No, not pleasure. In pain, in dread. Yes, dread.

Dread. Fear.

He smiled. Cocked his head to the side. Stared at the selection. The redhead. She made the most noise. There was such energy in her eyes. He moved over to her. Smelt her, licked her soft, dirty skin. Oh she was so tender.

'You'll pay for this. You're going to hell you fucking pervert."

He looked right in her eyes.

"You've got a lovely voice."

He grabbed her right breast, her eyes flared, she spat in his face. He brought up the sharp metal placing it on her throat. Her eyes were defiant. Slowly, yes slowly, he pushed his right arm forward. Gently, it pierced her, the fear now flooding in her eyes. Pain now, oh, how enticing. Dark blood pumped out from her throat as her heart pumped faster with adrenaline. It splattered onto his face, his mouth, everywhere.

With a swift jerk upwards, he slashed her lower jaw in half. She screamed, muffled, Eyes so wide. She was still alive.

He turned to the rest.

"I don't like noise. The Price Is Right Is On."