The Serial Killer and Rapist

Piko

Janet opened her eyes and was surprised to discover she was lying on the ground, her hands tied behind her back. Her mind was foggy; she couldn't recollect how she'd ended up there. She contemplated escape, trying to move her feet, but found them bound too.

She raised her head at movement in the bushes ahead. "Who's there?" No answer. "Please, who's there?" A voice emerged.

"Please, please, please."

"Who are you?"

The voice echoed mockingly: "Who are you? You! Hahaha!" She pressed, but it taunted, "Piko will not answer."

"Who is Piko?"

"Ha, now she knows Piko's name. No, no, no!" Piko burst from the bushes and stood before her.

"Please, help me," Janet pleaded, "and I'll give you anything you want."

"Help, help, help," Piko cackled.

"Yes, help—and I'll give you anything."

"Piko has what he wants."

"What is that?"

"You. Hahaha! Piko has you!"

"Me?"

"Yes, you." He knelt beside her, hands trailing slowly from her toes up to her knees. Janet screamed.

"Scream, scream! No one hears you. Hahaha! Piko takes you deep in the woods."

"Stop!" she begged.

His hands slid to her thigh, hiking up her skirt. She wore white panties. He rested a hand on her, caressing, then yanked them off in one violent motion. "No!" Janet screamed.

"Yes, scream! Piko loves squeals while having fun. Hahaha!" He laughed maniacally, eyes bulging. He brushed her folds; she shivered, clamping her legs tight. Rage twisted his face. He lashed out, fist slamming her abdomen. She screamed, trying to curl up, but he pinned her, striking again and again. Tears streamed down her face as she wailed.

Piko cackled. "Scream! Piko wants fight! Hahaha!" He thumbed her clitoris roughly, but frustration mounted. Janet noticed the bulge in his pants. She had to act fast—or he'd force himself inside.

"Let me help you," she said.

"Help, help!" He laughed louder.

"Yes, let me help with that bulge."

"Bulge, bulge!"

"Untie me, Piko." Her voice was commanding.

"Piko no!"

"Untie me. I'll help with the bulge." She nodded toward her core. "Enter here."

"Piko no trust."

"Trust me. Janet helps Piko's bulge."

"Piko kills... then done. Yes, Piko kills!" He stood, raising a massive stone to smash her skull. Death loomed. "Piko, STOP!" she shouted. He froze.

"Keep the stone down," she continued, "and I'll help with the bulge." He dropped it, moving to untie her legs.

As he worked, Janet sifted her foggy memories. She was an FBI agent, drafted to hunt the serial killer and rapist terrorizing Creek Valley, West Virginia. Her discreet investigation revealed he targeted single women in their thirties—most strangled before rape, a few raped then brutally killed.

She'd rented a remote cottage in the woods to lure him; even terrified locals didn't know she was undercover. That fateful morning, she'd jogged a lonely path, pausing when her instincts screamed she was watched. She spotted what looked like a bone on the ground, bent to check—and blacked out. Now this maniac, Piko, hovered above her.

Untying her legs, he revealed himself: youngish but weathered by woods life, perhaps thirties, with gray streaks in sandy, sawdust-dirty hair. Physically strong—his victims never stood a chance. He muttered to himself, mad as hell. One eye bulged large, the other small; an ear missing. He wore a stolen police vest.

"Are you a former cop, Piko?" she asked.

"Piko no talk—or Piko kill!" He loosened her leg bonds, then untied her hands behind her.

"Stand in front," she commanded. Slowly, deliberately, she spread her legs, eyes locked on his. Her hand drifted to her core, moaning softly. He held his breath, lips wet with drool, bulge straining.

She parted wider, fingers spreading her folds. Lust overtook him, eyes dangerous. Pre-cum soaked his pants. He dropped them, gripping his member, kneeling between her legs to thrust in.

Janet smiled coyly, stroking him slowly. "Yes, Piko..." He moaned, eyes closing, teeth clenched. She pounced—grabbing his balls and squeezing hard.

Pain exploded. He screamed, eyes flying open, face purpling. He punched her face, but she gripped tighter with both hands. "Not so! No, no!" he shrieked.

She ignored him, squeezing mercilessly. He battered her, tried strangling, but weakened, froth bubbling from his mouth. She crushed harder until his balls shattered, life draining away.

Piko collapsed, coiling fetal, convulsing. Froth choked him; visions of his gloating victims mocked him. He gasped his last.

THE END