TW: Murder, violence, slight sexual content, . ——— The musty scent of dust fills the abandoned tire shop as I lead him inside, my fingers brushing lightly against his. We cross the threshold and he slams the door behind us, stopping to push me against the wall for a passionate kiss. His anticipation is almost tangible as he gropes at me. I play my part well. And just like every other man, he eats it up. It's always the same. "Here we are," I purr, letting my voice drip with practiced charm."Just like I promised —a little fun." His dark eyes light up with a mischievous spark and he grins, completely unaware of the fate awaiting him. I lean in closer, pressing my body against his. My lips brush his neck, and I feel him shiver in response. I let my fingers wander, teasingly fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. His hands tremble slightly, but move instinctively as he starts to undress me. ‘’ Not yet! ‘’ I giggle, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the back of the shop. "Let's go in this little back room. We don't want anyone to catch us, do we?" I say, flashing him a playful, seductive smile. He follows me eagerly, never letting go of my hand. We weave through the cluttered shop, past old tires and dusty shelves. When we reach a counter scattered with rusted tools, I lean against it and hike up my skirt just a little, giving him a tantalizing view. His hungry gaze is locked on my body. Oh, how foolish men are. I slowly stretch my arm back behind me to feel across the countertop, my fingers brushing over the cold, heavy tire iron. Even if it wasn’t pitch black in here, his eyes would still be focused elsewhere. His breathing becomes ragged, a moan escaping his lips. "Carissa, you're killing me here," he groans through gritted teeth, as if he’s being tortured now. I can’t help but giggle out loud. He has no idea what torture truly is. I wrap my fingers around the tire iron and then turn around, facing away from him to tease him further. The look in his eyes is a mix of desperation and desire. I let the moment stretch, savoring the power I hold over him. "Come on, baby," I tease, swaying my hips slightly as I pull the tire iron closer. "You wanted a little fun, didn't you?" He lets out a groan, his trembling hand bunching the back of my shirt. The anticipation is almost unbearable. Then, with a swift, practiced motion, I swing the tire iron. The satisfying thud echoes through the empty shop as it connects with his head. He collapses, dazed and bleeding, his eyes wide with terror. I crouch down beside him, brushing his hair back almost tenderly. "Let me tell you a story," I say softly with a menacing edge. "It begins with a little girl whose father left when she was just three. The story of me and my daddy." His eyes search mine, trying to find some semblance of mercy, but all he gets is my cold, mocking gaze. "He was a cruel man," I continue, dragging the tire iron across the floor. “He abused my mother. Physically, emotionally. He cheated on her with every young skank that glanced his way. He destroyed her until there was nothing left. And I was so small. So helpless. She couldn’t cope when he left, so she drowned her sorrows in bottles, spiraled into addiction. One day, she left me with a family friend and never came back. Imagine that, a child abandoned by everyone she trusted." I stand up, looking down at him with cold satisfaction. "It taught me to hate men. But you know what? I discovered something that my poor sweet mother never had. My beauty, my charm-it's irresistible to fools like you." He whimpers, trying to crawl away, but I place my foot on his back, pressing him to the ground. "I learned to use it to get what I want. And when I'm done, I dispose of them. Just like I'll dispose of you. Just like I’ll dispose of the man I called daddy. Because men like you? Liars, cheaters, disloyal pieces of trash… You’re all the same. “ I look down at his horror with a smug and wicked grin. “And guess what, baby? I’m not small and helpless anymore. " His breathing is ragged, each gasp filled with pain. I swing the tire iron again, feeling the rush as it connects. His cries are muffled and weak, a pitiful sound of suffering. The same sounds my dear old dad will make when I finally find the coward. "You thought you were special, didn't you?" I whisper, leaning close to his ear. "But you're just another pawn in my game.’ I stroke his bloody cheek and press my lips against his forehead. “Oh, but you make such good practice for daddy.” I bring the tire iron down one last time, and then again, until there's nothing left but silence. I drop the tire iron, letting it fall to the floor with a clank, as I collapse to catch my breath. I stare down at his crumpled lifeless form and wipe the blood from my face. God, putting an end to the suffering of women never gets old. At least his wife will be the last woman he ever cheats on. I skipped gracefully over to a corner shelf and grab the box of candles I so carefully hid last night. With a steady hand, I light them one by one and place them perfectly around his body. I kiss his forehead tenderly once more before gazing down at him with a sinister smile. “Don’t worry, darling. You’re not my first victim, and you certainly won’t be the last, “I say before striding out of the building and into the night.