His Hands... part 1

The water ran down the man’s skin and washed away the dirt. Not even that water could cleanse his sins.1

His black hair dropped down to his shoulder. Only his eyes were darker then his hair and his eyes were as black as his soul.2

He turned his head slightly as he heard the bathroom door slowly open, quietly he stepped out to find no one, looking around he saw and heard nothing, stepping back into the shower he felt like he was being watched, fury getting the better of him he turned the water off and got dressed, hating the feeling of the constant staring, watching. Wiping the mirror of the steam he looked at himself, looking down he took a pair of scissors in his hand and placed them open on his hair, slowly he cut. Looking at himself again, his hair now short and spiky, it wasn’t good enough opening the cabinets above him, he searched for anything really, something to change him, closing the door he walked out of the bathroom. The motel bed was a bit shabby but it would do, he needed another one, the temptation was just too strong. Walking out the front door, not bothering to lock it he walked down the street, there was a pub there, he looked over his shoulder at the sunset, people would already be out, looking for a good time.3

Walking into the lonely bar he saw her, she sat on a stool, hunched a little like she was waiting for someone, someone like him. he took in everything about her, her beautiful blonde wavy hair that trailed off down her back, her slender figure that seemed so alluring, moving closer he sat next to her,4

"Can I... buy you a drink?" he asked, she looked at him with the most breath taking blue eyes, looking down a little to her lips as she answered this simple question5

"Sure" one simple word came from those luscious lips and with it he knew he had to have her, she smiled as he called the bar tender, looking down and seeming to be embarrassed.6

a while passed, he looked outside and saw it was getting dark, he needed her, right now before his craving became to much to handle, 7

"You know" she said startling him, he turned his head to look at her, "I don’t even know your name" giggling she glared at him, hoping for an answer8

"Umm, my name dean" he replied calmly looking down, he couldn’t remember the last time a woman had actually asked for his name.9

A little while later they were kissing as they both stumbled towards his motel room, she sat on his bed as he locked the door, rubbing her arms she had the strangest feeling,10

"Maybe I should go" she whispered, hoping he heard it. Walking towards her she suddenly got up, he pushed her back and she fell on the bed, looking at her he went to his draw and pulled out his favorite blade, he had hurt so many young girls with it, he smiled at the thought of their screams of mercy.