The Zodiac killer
Alicia winced as the needle pierced her back again. As a child, she’d hated needles, but as an adult, she learned to love them. Or at least, she loved the liquid bliss they offered when they pumped heroin into her veins.
But this was a needle of a different sort.
The tattoo gun buzzed like an angry hornet, stinging her skin over and over, but she savored the exquisite pain. Marking her flesh would seal the covenant with her master.
She pressed her face into the cheap mattress to stifle a groan. The bed reeked of mildew and stale sweat, and she tried not to think too hard about its previous occupants. A fleabag hotel like this in the slums of New York didn’t cater to the best clientele.
The leather collar around her neck bit into her skin as she swallowed a fresh wave of pain down.
The tattoo artist was far from gentle. Alicia had never met the man before today. She’d been told to arrive here and follow instructions, so she did. The gaunt man with long, greasy hair had been waiting for her with his equipment.
They’d been at it for over an hour already, and the pain was even worse now than when it started. The tattoo needle hit a tender spot, sending a jolt of electricity through every nerve, and her entire body shuddered.
“Stop moving, bitch,” the man said. “Sorry,” she muttered, shame heating her cheeks. The man wasn’t her master but displeasing him would be just as bad.
“When I’m done with this tattoo, it’ll be the prettiest part of you,” he said with a smile in his voice. “That’s not saying much since you’re all skin and bones, but still, you’ll be a masterpiece. As long as you don’t fucking move.
” Alicia forced herself to remain still as a corpse, reminding herself why she was enduring this agony. For the Master, the one who’d lifted her up from misery and shown her the first real affection she’d ever known. Alicia could suffer through this to show her profound gratitude.
Sometime later, someone knocked on the door.
The needle paused, and the artist went to answer it. Alicia’s heart filled with warmth, and a smile spread across her face. Her master would be pleased to see her lying there like a good little submissive, naked and with newly decorated skin. She wanted to look up to see the reaction for herself, but she remained where she was, waiting to do as she was told.
Her master was quiet, and Alicia could only guess the two were communicating through glances. Finally, the artist’s voice broke the silence.
“How do you like fresh ink?”
“It will suffice. get up, my honey.” The Master’s voice was wonderful, but in her ears, it warmed her soul like a song.
Alicia scampered off the bed and stood dutifully with her head bowed and her hands clasped in front of her. “Turn around,” her master commanded. She turned and felt the light brush of fingertips graze her tender skin.
“Yes, this will do just fine.
” Alicia shivered with pleasure at the approving words. All the pain had been worth it just for that. She heard the gurgling sound of liquid being poured into glasses and the sweet smell of wine tickled her nose.
“A drink to celebrate,” her master said.
“You too, my child.”
Alicia turned and took the offered glass. The tattoo artist looked like he wanted to protest but shrugged. “What the hell? Nothing like a drink with good company.”
He tipped his drink back, and the Master smiled as he drank it down.
Alicia sipped her wine slowly. The taste of it was full and rich, and it warmed her insides immediately.
When she reached the last drop, the artist’s knees buckled beneath him.
Instinctively, she lurched forward as if she could catch the man, but he was too far away. He hit the edge of the bed and bounced off onto the floor like a sack of potatoes. Alicia shrieked, and her master barked a command.
“On your knees!” The Master’s hand twirled, and Alicia spun around and faced the bed, her heart fluttering faster than hummingbird wings. Hot breath fell upon her ear.
“Your metamorphosis is almost complete. Just a little more, my child.”
Alicia nodded, and her master jammed a rubber ball gag between her teeth so hard, she worried one of her teeth had chipped. She knew better than to scream or fight, though she did give a slight whimper. Her punishment would be worse if she struggled, but it didn’t stop the tears from trailing down her cheeks.
Something burned across her tender flesh, and pain seared her skin as her master made deliberate marks on her back. Warm blood trickled from the cuts, and only then, she realized she’d been stabbed a bit too deeply.
By then, she couldn’t move. Lethargy had set in, and she had no control over her muscles. Something had been in the drink, perhaps something to ease her pain? She still refused to think her master would do anything to harm her. The carving continued, and she struggled to scream, but her voice was a choked whisper behind the gag.
The knife pierced deeper in some places, again and again. Blood stained the white cotton sheets, and black spots formed in her vision. Finally, her master stopped.
Through the pain, Alicia prayed the punishment was over and it would be time for the soothing and aftercare that made it all worth it. Somehow, she was still clinging to hope that it wasn’t as bad as she thought, even as the bed grew wet around her. The room went quiet, as did the beating of her heart.
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