“You see, Mary, you’re my favourite and I just hoped you’d love me back. It seems unlikely now, but it could change. Do you love me?”
Mary tried her hardest not to cry and shook her head. He took the gag out of her mouth and she took a deep, shaky breath.
“Do you love me?” He asked.
Mary shook her head again and muttered in a weak voice, “No, I would never love you, you monster!”
He slapped her face, blood splattered from her mouth.
“Do you love me?” He growled, squeezing her arm tightly, leaving fingernail marks on her pale skin. She cried instinctively; nothing in the world would save her now.
“I said, no,” She whispered, tears like diamonds upon her ashen face.
“That might cost you your life!” He yelled, slapping her again. This time she fell into unconsciousness.
*
Some people are born to kill, some grow up and kill; he was born a killer. The anger and violence being shown on his features was frightening; it was like looking Jack the Ripper in the face, except Jack the Ripper wasn’t your ex-boyfriend. As Mary came back into consciousness she noticed the boy she used to love standing near a table, sharpening a knife. He turned his head to look at her as she took a deep breath.
“So, have you learnt your lesson?” He asked, smiling; fake. “Are you now going to love me?”
Mary nodded, trying to keep from crying out, so that someone out there would hear her.
“You see, all I had to do was to give you a little beating and look where it finally got us; love at, well, not first sight!”