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G. D. Howard

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· The John
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The John II; Remembering Ruby
By G. D. Howard
Thursday, January 17, 2008

Rated "R" by the Author.

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A story of murder continues...

The John:
Remembering Ruby
By G.D. Howard

Days had passed since he began his work. Since he pulled to the side of the road and the crimson haired girl stepped into his car. That was a wonderful night. He had never felt so alive, standing there over her trembling form. Just thinking about it was a better rush than sex or any drug he had ever tried. It was the feeling he needed to complete himself, the sensation that released him and now that feeling was wearing thin.
He found himself slowing down as he cruised by women on the street, watching them walk, evaluating the ones that he would approach. It was very much like deer hunting, only much more rewarding.
Someone behind him honked their horn angrily, forcing him to break his gaze on this tiny little blond wandering along the sidewalk. She would have been perfect. Boyish, small, trusting. He was not looking at the physical appearance, there was just a feeling he got from them, or so he told himself. He had only taken his first victim. He liked the sound of the word victim had to it. He felt power surge through him with the thought of it. Soon he would begin the hunt again, taking another prostitute or worthless woman from the street.
They were the best for him to begin with simply because hardly anyone noticed them gone and there was something that reminded him of her in them. They made him think of her as he sunk his blade into their skin, gripped their throats tightly with his thick, strong fingers and felt their bodies go soft and limb until he let them live again for a few brief moments.
He felt himself growing aroused thinking about the girl who called herself Ruby. The bright red color of her blood and pale skin in the moonlight. She was beautiful only in death. He recalled watching the life fade from her eyes as her skin took on the color of the moon hanging full in the sky above him.
Yes, tonight he would hunt again and tonight he would feel the rush again coursing through his veins like fire as he watched another young woman go cold.

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