“I don’t really think that you actually want to kill me. I feel like maybe there are some repressed feelings here? Or something?” I was grasping at straws. “Have you tried therapy? There’s gotta be a better solution. Like what did I do to deserve this?”

He stopped sharpening the axe for a moment and looked down at me from his perch on the tree stump, his eyes piercing into mine. Was that a smirk on his face? My heart raced. _“I’ve really fucked this one up now,”_ I thought.

“No, the solution is murder. Sorry,” he mused. He went back to sharpening his axe.

So he did find it funny. In any other situation, I probably would too. Grindr murders didn’t happen in real life, not to real people. Except to me, apparently.

In this low light, he even still looked attractive. He _was_ hot - it’s why I wanted to hook up with him anyway. Stubble covered his face and his muscles flexed beneath the skin with each stroke of the stone he was using to sharpen the axe. Sweat soaked his shirt. It’s not like I got much play these days. Usually, I wouldn’t do something this risky, but since the breakup, it felt like I just didn’t have anything to lose anymore. Shit. Why couldn’t I ever just have a normal hookup?

Cicadas screamed in the oppressive humidity. I stammered for something to say as his smirk grew into a smile. Holy fuck - this was really happening. My mind raced.

“Alright. Time to die.” He stood up, and the stone fell into the wet grass with a thud. My heart beat against my ribcage. There _had_ to be something I could say - I was running out of time. The ropes cut into my wrists as I tried to wrest them free. I sank into the mud as I struggled. Damn. He was strong.

“Wait. No. There’s a way out of this - I’ll give you something? Can I give you something? Money? You want my car? I’ll give you my car. Or my apartment. Whatever you want,” I babbled. I was desperate - I didn’t know what to say. Ideas came. What did a crazed sex killer really want?

“What if I suck you off?”

He froze, the axe resting on his shoulder. “What?”

“I’m really good, I swear! Don’t you at least wanna try?”

He looked confused, but had stopped his tread towards me. His smile melted off of his face. Could this really work?

“You thought… you think I’m gay?” He asked, almost dejectedly.

“I mean, we _did_ meet on Grindr.” I stared at him incredulously, baffled that this was really happening. Where was the cold hearted killer he was two seconds ago? Now _I_ was the amused one. Something about the situation was so ridiculous, I couldn’t help it: a tiny bit of hope blossomed in my chest.

The axe fell to his side. “I’m not gay, though. Everyone thinks I’m gay.” He stopped, seeming to not even recognize what he was saying. His eyes widened. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with being gay. I have a ton of gay friends. Just like, don’t hit on me, you know?”

I stared at him, mouth agape. “Are you serious? You were just going to murder me, like, two seconds ago, and now you’re upset I thought you’re gay? Who even are you?”

He started. “Are _you_ serious? I’m the one with the axe here.” His demeanor had changed, though. He was less confident, shifting on his feet.

_“Good,” _I thought. _“Distract him.”_ My restraints gave a little bit. The pain felt like a distant memory - my body was fueled with adrenaline and a little bit of stupid hope. “I don’t know, man. Maybe you should take a look inside and figure out why you got so sad when I thought you were gay. I mean… I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about it.”

He snapped. “I DON’T care about it. I fucking don’t. I’m just sick and fucking tired of people asking me that. I have a fucking girlfriend, did you know that? I don’t even like… HEY!”

I threw myself towards him, the ropes falling off my hands. The axe swung in his hands, but I was too close to cut. I grabbed the wood. We grappled for control of the blade, kicking, screaming, panting. My elbow swung up into his face, smashing his nose. Bone broke and blood gushed.

“Fuck!”

I swung my foot out as he stumbled forward, tripping him. His momentum tore the axe from my hands as he fell. With a sickening crunch, skull met rock and axe met flesh as he fell on top of the sharpened blade that was meant for me.

I panted as I watched him die. The woods grew loud again - I could hear the cicadas screaming, the frogs chirping. Wind rustled the pines above as blood soaked the ground below. I was alive.

Honestly? It wasn’t the worst hookup I’ve ever had.