Paranoia

Now that he had her, he did'nt know what to do with her.  Her body lay broken and bloody throwing a rusty shilloette to the already red tail lights.  Though no breath escaped her lips he cocked his head as he looked at her thick lips that seemed to beckon him for a kiss.

"Wow, she really looks pretty right now.  It would be such a waste to get rid of such a pretty dame."  He reached down and traced on of his fat greasy fingers along her arm.  "Why did she have to scream so much? AM I that repulsive? Curse that woman, that little witch got what she deserved. I bet she though she was prettier than me. Ha! She's not so high and mighty now."

He chuckled as he slammed down the hood of the trunk belonging to his 98 Honda Accord.  He opened the driver side door and slid his overweight belly in, and over the bottom half of the steering wheel. 

"Dames, they always think they are so much better than you.  How comes she couldn't love me.  Shes just like that damn Elizabeth.  Always running around in those little shorts and tight tee-shirts wasting away her life drinking Mimosas and Champange; vacationing on obsure islands sleeping around with the pool boys.
My love was never enough."

He rubbed the steering wheel with his left hand gripping and ungripping it.  He stared straight through the windshield at the starry night laid out in front of him, through the clearing in the woods.  This place was always his favorite.  He had come her to propose to his first wife and here he was again, but this time to bury her.  In his mind he was out there to bury her but the truth was something else.

Thinking about the pretty petite blond in his trunk made him excited.  So much so he decided to pleasure him in the thoughts of her last moments. She had screamed alot. But it wasn't the screaming that really got to him; it was the pleading look in her eyes.  It was so much like the pleading and begging look that his wife had given him everytime he struck her with a closed fist.

"It's going to be okay, Jack" he told himself.  She didn't deserve you, none of them did not even that wicked Betty.  You are better than all of them and they just needed you to show them." At that point he climaxed and wiped his hands on his grease soaked jeans.
"Nasty, dirty little girl.  I don't even need to know her name, she was nothing a nobody, a sinner in God's eyes.  I did the world a favor.  The world doesn't need people like her, dissapproving of them with her looks and thoughts.  I am a soilder in a holy war and by ridding the world of this pestulance I will help innocent people like myself live happier lives.  No longer will we have to hide and be ashamed of ourselves." 

He leaned back in the driver's seat, reeking of old scotch and chewing tabbaco.  He smiled to himself, pleased at what he had done.  His mind tinkered away at friviolus thoughts.

Hours later the sun had began to come up, and at that moment, he realized he had her, but did not know what to do with her.