CHAPTER 01

𝙹𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝙼𝚌𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚢𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅

Gliding the deep red lipstick across my puckered lips, I stare at my reflection in the mirror amazed at how I am still standing after the panicked attack I had a few minutes ago.

The way my chest tightened and my breath got lost, my heart hammering wildly in my ears and the beads of sweat that came rushing from my pores, made me feel as if there was no way I was going to make it out.

I had seen my one trigger...

I was always careful not to walk that street, I made sure every time I was supposed to take the bus that it would never travel that route.

But tonight I made the mistake of allowing my thoughts to carry me away and I stepped onto the wrong bus, bringing me right to my trigger.

The closer we got to the small bakery, the more my eyes danced around in my head and the more my hands became sweaty.

I held onto the chair beside me for strength, as the tires of the bus squeaked making a stop at the bus stop, where my dignity was taken that night.

A night that was forever embedded in my mind.

No amount of pills or drugs could ever erase it.

My lips got dry and I gave the bus stop my back, while my eyes slammed shut and creased due to how tightly I was holding them together.

My ears perked up at the sounds of every footstep that either made its way onto the bus or left.

My body jerked forward and I held onto the chair handle even more, the tears slowly leaking through my closed lids.

I was barely breathing, the memories came rushing back and I wanted the earth to open and swallow me whole.

It felt as if the bus was slowly moving and I was too afraid to open my eyes and see the streets.

A hand had glided its way onto my back and my hand quickly found its way to my pocket where I carried my pocket knife.

Flicking it out, I opened my eyes and pointed it at the person that had touched me.

The hand quickly moved and was now in the air, a small embarrassed smile playing on the stranger's face.

"I am sorry darling" He gifted me a smile, motioning for me to turn so that he could access the seat.

Shaking my head, I turned to look at the back of the bus, it was empty and I knew what this meant.

A man's presence especially at night was always triggering to me.

I was confused about how I hadn't flipped out yet.

"Could you sit somewhere else please?" I coaked out and he nodded moving down the aisle.

Sighing, I leaned into the chair, my hand continuously whipping away the tears that left my eyes, there was only one way that I knew would make me feel better.

So here I am now getting ready to meet Parker Melly.

Smacking my lips, my hands slide down the sides of my body, gliding softly over my curves.

My 4c curls are bouncing proudly on top of my head and I never felt this pretty.

My wash and going is wash and going.

Smiling, I lift my laptop into my hands and walk backwards to the foot of the bed.

Taking a seat, I look over Parker's and I's Tinder messages, he was very persistent in meeting me only after a day of texting back and forth.

Rolling my eyes, I confirm the time once again and watch as he explains why he's unable to pick me up.

Clicking my tongue, I exit the tab and move over to his girlfriend's Instagram page.

I watch her highlights, seeing how jovial and happy she was before they started dating now she looks as if a bus had run her over a million times.

It was clear she was screaming out for help in each story that she posted daily, the black eyes and bruises were very much visible despite the horrible attempt at her trying to hide them.

After her message last night on Reddit, I knew that I had to end him so I did what I usually do, use fake pictures of his taste in women and lure him in.

Smiling, I close the door behind me, my keys twirling on my fingers as I skip happily to the house a few blocks down the road where I am going to meet my Uber.

.....

Twirling the wine around the glass, I wait impatiently for Parker to get here. I have been sitting here for almost an hour and his message informing me that he was going to be a few minutes late became void 30 minutes ago.

Hissing lowly under my breath, I adjust the straps of my dress a bit ashamed over the eyes staring me down a couple tables over.

He chose to meet at a restaurant that is in a very let us say, suburban area.

He finally enters and smiles when his eyes meet mine. Tonight I didn't have to alter my looks that much since I look like what he would go for in women.

"I am so sorry for making you wait." Gifting him a tight-lipped smile, I nod pulling the menu towards me.

My eyes catch a glimpse of his bruised knuckles and I straighten my back before he hides them under the table.

I avert my eyes to my phone resting on the table, I am tempted to view his girlfriend's page, she always posted when they would get into it.

Last night he had held her down and had his way with her and that was what pushed me to pursue him.

I was going to make sure tonight was the last night he would be able to lift those hands to hurt another one or insert that dirty ass cheesy dick into someone.

"You can order whatever it is that you want," He says out of breath as he shuffles around in his seat, fixing himself.

Nodding, I call over the waiter and place our orders.

Slouching, I listen as he spends the next two hours speaking boastful about himself not once allowing me to share.

....

"No," I push away his wandering hands as he smiles on the bed. He pulls closer to me forcing his legs in between mine.

Standing, I give him a shaky breath coupled with a shy smile.

"I don't bite" He pulls at my hands and pulls me into him.

Standing he quickly buries his head into the crook of my neck, placing wet and sloppy kisses.

My hands are trapped and I squirm around in his hold wanting to be free.

"Could you stop please" I whisper faking as if I am on the verge of tears.

He ignored my pleads and slides his hands around to my ass, the second he grips a cheek in his big hand, I slide the pocket knife out of the strap on my thigh.

I waste no time in slashing it against his hand, blood oozes out badly due to the angle I cut him.

He staggers back hissing in pain as he holds tightly onto his hand, cursing profanities.

"You bitch!" Smiling, I move over to my bag, sliding the knuckle dusters onto my hand.

Folding my fingers perfectly into a fist, I swing hitting him square in the face.

Something clinks against the metal tray in the room and my smile widens proudly.

He groans rolling into his side and folding up in a ball.

I pounce on him hitting him wildly but calculated in spots that I know will hurt badly, I try to not get too carried away.

Now he knows how she feels when he has her cornered.

Swiping away the beads of sweat that have now coated my forehead, I move over to my bag once again this time pulling out a hammer.

I am going to beat the breaks off him.

Slamming down the hammer, I hear a bone crack and his arm goes limp, his shoulder is now slack as he screams out in pain.

Roughly grabbing his arm from underneath him, I position them correctly on the bed before slamming the hammer down once again.

He kicks his feet trying to kick me and I swig on him again hitting him in the foot this time.

I move over to the side of the bed, hitting each finger and watching as they scatter about.

He has now gone mute, nothing comes from him not even sobs and my heart speeds up.

With the hammer in my hand, I wipe my eyes scared that maybe once again, I have done the extreme.

Using my feet, I push against his side causing him to lay flat on his back, I retrieve my pocket knife from the floor and start cutting his clothes off him.

Taking in a big breath, I shake my head as I take up his limbed dick into my hand, slashing against it I make a series of cuts. To finish it off, I cut deep into the tip taking out a piece.

My eyes make their way down to his own and he looks as if he's dead.

Hissing, I grab my things careful of leaving anything or prints behind.

With my heart at the tip of my tongue, I rush down the halls of the hotel, my head facing the ground to get away from the cameras.

I was sure that he would never hurt a single soul after what happened to him.

All my victims either went into hiding or killed themselves after.

I felt no hint of remorse as they didn't when they harmed innocent women.

Reaching home, I quickly wash up everything and pack them away to be burnt tomorrow, laying in my bed, I stare up at the ceiling feeling satisfied and proud of myself.

After all, what I am doing is a heroic act.

To be continued…