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It was true. Brenda did love to kill. It was difficult to go against this part of her. She liked the heat of it, the smell of the blood as it fell on the grass.
She had seen the depravity of humans firsthand. All of her family members were swine. And so, it hadn’t really affected her when they died, although she was sad she missed out on the opportunity to watch the life leave their eyes.
Rebecca was interesting. She could basically smell the desperation coming off of her, the fear. There was a glint in her eye though, a spark of something dark. Where Brenda was a wolf, Rebecca was a domesticated dog. Soft, controlled, willing, but still with the same practiced bite. They would both draw blood and feel the same sick exhilaration.
She could have just shot her, really. But it’s no fun to eat if you can’t play with your food first.
They ended up alone. Honestly, the last few kills were just bait. She wanted to know how far the other woman would go to get her back. Turns out, pretty damn far.
Rebecca had such venom in her voice now, tense and sharp. It reminded her of her family, and for a moment this took her out of her enjoyment and replaced it with dread. This encounter would probably end with one of them dead. She had to stop messing around.
The gun was on the floor and surely she wouldn’t have the guts to pick it up again. She wasn’t hungry enough.
And yet, against her best judgment, Rebecca was. Searing hot pain shot through Brenda’s arm and it was delicious. They were both struggling against each other, and she could feel her hot breath on her neck as she dug her nails into the gunshot wound. It was deplorable. It was perfect.
The gun went off again and she lost vision.
She couldn’t tell how long it had been since they had fought. Nobody would let her see the time and she was very tired of being interrogated. What more could they need to know? She asked to see her, and shockingly they obliged. Perhaps they thought that was the only way she would confess anything.
She could hear them talking about her outside of the room, clearly irritated. She closed her eyes for a moment and briefly imagined how Rebecca would react to being eaten. She wouldn’t scream, no, but she would most likely fight back. It would be enjoyable, she thought, to watch that happen. The door clicked open.
“I don’t know why they think I’m going to get better results with you. Clearly, you aren’t interested.” She sat down on the cold metal chair across from her. “Did you ask for me?”
“I did.” Brenda smiled coldly, trying to memorize the features of the other woman’s face.
Silence.
“May I ask why?” She could tell she was staring, and it evidently began to make her uncomfortable.
“I enjoy… looking at you.” She would have made a gesture with her words, but her hands were handcuffed fairly closely to the table.
Rebecca sighed deeply and stood up. “Alright, we’re done then.”
She maneuvered her hand far enough away from the table to grab her wrist before she could get out of the door. She sunk her nails in the skin.
“I saw your face when we were fighting. You’re just like me. It’s exciting, isn’t it?”
She didn’t respond, just widened her eyes and pulled her arm away. Brenda had a good enough grip on her wrist to scratch her and she almost saw the blood drip from the cut before the door was closed and she was by herself again. How relieving it was to know that every time she used that arm, she would think of her.
They were preparing to put her in some hole in the ground somewhere for the rest of her life. She’d probably never be out again. So, then, what a relief it was to see the long, blonde hair of her favorite FBI agent.
“Come for my going away party, puppy?”
Rebecca swiveled around. They locked eyes for a brief moment before she felt cold pressure on the back of her head.
“Move. Don’t speak.” God, the people who worked here were so rude. She took one last glance at her, watching her cradle her now bandaged arm, scowling. Soon, she would understand how alike they really were. It’s too bad she wouldn’t be around to see it. She stepped into the car.