You were a little whore when I met you. I remember you rubbing your little cunt on your parents’ carpet like a slut. You were only five, Sapphire, how big of a whore are you now?
That’s when I knew. I remembered her telling me about the guy, in tears, so scared she still couldn’t confess what exactly had happened. And I realized this guy had come back to haunt her, even when she was just a teenager. So not just the fucking therapist, this damn prick as well… I was going to kill him when I finally found out who he was.
His email didn’t offer a single clue. The emails kept coming over and over again, to an email address Pet didn’t seem to use anymore. She hadn’t even seen the last few, which he must’ve sent over the last year when she’d all but disappeared.
I saw several unopened ones, and my blood boiled when I read them. The guy had gone from empty threats to real fucking dangerous ones, ones I’d rip his throat out for. He threatened everyone from Pet to her parents and her old friends from school. I wanted to kill him for it.
I spent hours trying to figure out who he was, getting more and more enraged with each minute I spent without the prick’s name, without his still beating heart in my fucking fist. He was insane. Fucking insane, and I was going to punish him for what he’d done to my girl.
And finally, there it was. A simple clue, hidden in plain sight. It had been there the whole time, and I’d missed it.
He’d sent Pet these pictures, these gifs, all from the same website. And I realized it was a sort of blog of really fucking disturbing stills from porn, moving images with no sound which made them even creepier. Finally, I realized he must’ve been the owner of the blog. And once I figured that out, finding the sonofabitch was easy.
I knew I would have to break my promise to Pet; I wouldn’t be sleeping in our bed that night.
I was going to avenge her innocence, and I was going to kill a man for the very first time that night.I found her sleeping on the couch, covered up with a blanket. She barely stirred when I picked her up and carried her into our bedroom, bundling her under the blankets. Her hands reached for me before I left, and I wished I could’ve stayed with her. Feel the warmth of her skin against mine, feel her heart beat for me. But she closed her eyes before I could change my mind, and snored peacefully.
I grinned at her sleeping frame, so small in our bed, and I left.
Not before changing and getting ready, though.
I was almost at a point where I didn’t give a shit if I got caught. I wanted the prick dead, and if someone found out I’d done it, I’d go to jail for it, fucking gladly. He’d hurt her too much for one lifetime though, and I wouldn’t let him have that final victory. I had to be careful.
I took a taxi to his neighborhood. It wasn’t far away from where her parents lived. A nice upper middleclass neighborhood a guy like him shouldn’t be living in. I walked the short distance from the store the taxi had dropped me off in front of to his house.
A suburban, nice-sized place in a cul-de-sac. There was only one light on in the house. I rang the front doorbell.
My heart pounded as I waited for someone to answer. I had no idea what to fucking expect. What would Pet’s abuser look like in person? I wanted him to be ugly, mean-looking. It would make it easier to hurt him.
But the man who opened the front door to the picture-perfect family house was far from that.
He was handsome, in a classic way. Chiseled jaw, not unlike mine, and a full head of light hair. He was a few pounds overweight, but it didn’t take away from his looks.
But my punch would.
I slammed my fist into his face before he had a chance to speak, and he howled in pain.
“What the fuck, you jackass?” he screamed, and lunged at me.
I was ready to take him, and we nearly tumbled to the ground when a little voice called out behind him.
“Daddy?”
I looked over his shoulder to see a little boy standing there, holding a toy car.
I wanted to kill him then, really kill him, in the most gruesome way possible. How could this bastard have a child? Had he hurt him as well, or was his taste for little girls only? I wanted him dead. If the kid wasn’t standing on his doorstep I would have finished him. I would wear his blood on my hands with pride.