This story was written for the 2024 Literotica 750 Word Challenge, below this line are exactly 750 words:
Killer.
I held my husband of four years in my arms as the life drained from his eyes, he had beautiful eyes but now they were blank and empty. He looked up at me eyes open as if wanting to ask why, but he had gone.
Fifteen minutes earlier he had come into the kitchen carrying a small hold-all, I knew the bag, it was mine. It belonged in the garage behind the false Gyproc wall and large rack of nick-nacks that you kept, but had no idea why you kept them. We had argued of the contents when tipped them all onto the worktop demanding to know?
There were about one various hundred items, gold rings, necklaces, some underwear and a few passports. None of which were originally mine, but they all belonged to me now. They were keepsakes, memories, trophies of a sort. The earliest of them was a small gold brooch, I had taken it from a young lady in Mayfair, London. I forget her name but it was many, many years ago now.
She had struggled at first but quickly succumbed to her fate, it was painless but death is death at the end of the day, isn't it. I had seen her at the theatre one night and befriended her and her family. It is best to get to know a victim before they become food as I need to know the bloodstock from whence they came, and she came from good stock.