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Well, well, well... If it isn't you again...?
The story of Jackson wasn't enough for you, huh?
Well, since your'e here and I'm currently available, why don't I tell you the story of Nickolas. Or, at least the end of him... I think that'll be right down your alley...
No, no - easy now. We need to get some backstory - I don't go around murdering people just for you to be jerking off to it.
You see, Nickolas was an entirely different story than Jackson.
He had a nice job in a big bank in New York. He was only 28, but he had rissen to fame in the financial world in record time. He owned one of them fancy penthouse appartments you alway see in the movies and drove around in a big ass Mercedes...
Well, to be honest - that Mercedes is mine now and the penthouse belongs to my nephew.
Now, I know what your'e thinking - but I didn't steal anything. This was all a part of my... salary.
Nickolas was a mixed bread, so to speak. Greek mother and American father, slim with not a single ounce of fat on his body. I would believe that you would consider him to be beautiful. Hell, I don't know anything about that, but I do know that when he wanted something, he would get it.
And by the time I met him, he wanted death. Pure and simple. He wanted an aided suicide, but not with the help of drugs. No, he wanted to write his own destiny - and since he paid me an awfull amount of money as well as a Mercedes and a penthouse, why not let him?
We met up on a sunday night. It was about 10 pm, and he showed up in a pair of black sweatpants and a white shirt. What is it with young people and sweatpants? Nevermind, I see your eyes are getting big now, so let's move on.
I knew about a basement in an abandoned building, so we arranged it to be there. We locked ourselves in and went down.
I asked him "So, how do you wanna do this?"
He unbuttoned his shirt "Come over here, put your arm around my shoulder and stab me in my belly button."
I went over there, put my arm around this kid and slowly started to press my knife in.
"Uarghh" he moaned, as I felt the knife moving in deeper and deeper. I held it in for a moment, as he slowly went to his knees.
"Please, one more time", he said. I retracted the knife slowly, and just as slowly as before, I stabbed him in his outie again.
He moaned even more this time, so I left the knife in his belly button, as he slowly fell on to his back.
His arms were wide spread, and I whispered "What do you want me to do now?"
"Take it out, please take it out", he whispered, so I did.
I was affraid he'd changed his mind, cause then we would have a real problem, but no. This kid wanted to die.
"Please, stab me again... All over my stomach... I need to feel it"
I took the knife, stabbed him right between his belly button and the waistband of his boxers. He moaned, but there was no screaming. It was more of a sound of life leaving the body.
I stabbed him slowly right above his navel and moved up to the center of his torso. I used a bit more force this time, and as I saw the blood slowly running down his ribs, I also saw grattitude in his eyes.
"Put it in my nipples", he whispered - and so I did. First the right side and when he stopped moaning, I stabbed him in the left one.
The blood fled slowly to each side, dripping silently on the concrete floor.
"Please, kill me... I'm ready to die. Stab me right in the heart", he said with his last strength.
I placed the knife right over his heart, and just as slow as before I let it do it's work...
The last thing I heard was him whispering "I'll die now", before he took his final breath...
I laid my ear to his chest and sure enough - Nickolas was dead.
Later that night, the building went up in flames, and nobody ever found out who the young victim in the basement was.
Nickolas? Well, he was reported missing and some years after declared legally dead... And that was when the Mercedes and the appartment came into my possession.
Don't ask me how, I don't work at a bank...
Well, you look like you could use some alone time by now - please get a room, I like to keep it clean and tidy here... ;-)
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