Never Run (May Moore Suspense Thriller 1)
Page 23
She tried to scream, but he put his hand over her mouth.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said.
His voice was calm and soothing. He could see her fighting for freedom, but of course, he held her tight.
Just as he'd planned.
She was writhing and trying to scream, but he put his other hand over her mouth and nose and held her still. He could smell the sweet perfume she was wearing.
He felt a sense of guilt and sorrow, but then he knew that was an imperfect emotion. He was perfect in the way he took his prey. He was swift and brutal.
He felt his grip tighten on her. He'd discovered that a hand over the mouth and nose was the most effective. He'd read all about it.
Her arms were flailing, but she couldn't get free. However, he could feel her soft, warm body squirming against him, and hear her muffled screams. She was still trying to escape. He’d caught himself a spirited one.
Quickly, he grabbed the chloroform-soaked cloth from his pocket and held it to the girl's face.
He felt a surge of power as she succumbed. He knew what he was doing was worth it, because she was his now, and he would keep her forever.
Unless she broke his rules, of course – the spirited ones were often bad that way. Then, even though he knew it was sad, he would have to kill her.