Page 1 of Vicious Like Me

Chapter one

Skylar

The first person I killed was a complete accident. So was the second. But the third? The third person I killed was done with purpose. Much like the pathetic bastard I have zip-tied in front of me.

Lenny Schmitz is sitting on the cold stone ground, propped against the wall of the abandoned factory I like to frequent for my kills. Far from the urban clamor of New Vernon, the factory is located on the outskirts of town, ensuring no one can hear his screams. With all the security I have set up around the perimeter, I’d be tipped off well before anyone can catch me in the act.

Lenny’s wrists are bound together behind his back, but there’s also a long chain shackled to both of his ankles for good measure. This fucker isn’t going anywhere until he coughs up some information. His wrists might be rubbed raw, and there’s even a bit of blood from the plastic slicing into his skin—thanks to his recent struggles. But other than that, he’s mostly unharmed.

“I told you, I don’t know anything useful, Skylar. Just let me go.”

Honestly, I didn’t plan on torturing the man. Not like I did with the rest, but he’s starting to get on my last nerve. Keeping a scumbag like Lenny sedated and alive for almost a week probably wasn’t worth it. I poke him in the forehead several times as I speak. “Why don’t you let me determine what’s useful or not?” I slide his phone out of my pocket and wave it in front of his face. “What’s the PIN?”

You would think a proficient serial killer like me would have the resources to get past a simple pin number, and I do. But I know for a fact that Lenny and his boss have a high-powered security system that is programmed to alert each other when someone tries to hack into one of their phones.

“No way. You can go fuck yourself,” he snarls, probably trying to act tough. “I’m not letting a whore like you into my phone where you can get into my finances.”

I bark out a laugh before viciously kicking the man’s face. His head slams into the wall behind him. “I’ll let that little insult slide… for now. But it’s cute you think I want your money.”

His head lolls in front of him for a bit before he gathers enough strength to lift it. Once his eyes are on me, I begin casually walking back and forth, showcasing just how calm I am. Cool as a fucking cucumber. “Did you forget? I’m one of the most sought-after bisexual actors in the adult film industry. I have producers lining up around every corner, begging to film me. I have plenty of money.” I tap his phone. “No, what I want is information on your boss. Access to his schedule, important meetings, the times and locations of when he’s alone, and anything else that might be of use to me.”

“Fuck you!” he slurs. A small, sinister smile covers my lips as I watch the blood trickle from the gash on his forehead. Looks like I kicked him harder than I thought. “You’re a dead man. As soon as Franko realizes I’m gone, he’ll have our men so far up your ass, you’ll wish you just stuck to porn.”

I tsk, starting to get tired of the balls on this guy. “Aren’t you even the slightest curious about why you’re so damn hungry? Or why you’re dizzy? Confused? Sore?” My smile grows when shock registers on his face. “You’ve been here longer than you realize, Lenny.”

“Impossible. You—”

Striding forward, I slam my hand against the wall above his head, causing the asshole to jump. He hisses in pain when the plastic digs further into his skin. I bend over so I’m right at eye level. “You don’t seem to be taking me seriously,” I whisper.

Taking the 9mm from my waistband, I remove the magazine to make a show of checking the bullets, and then click it back into place. The click seems to echo around us, and Lenny’s breathing becomes shallow.

“Perhaps,” I say slowly, leaning in closer. “It’s time for me to stop being so damn nice, as you seem to believe you’ll be leaving here alive. News flash, little Lenny. This isn’t a matter of whether you’re going to die here. It’s whether you’ll get to die quickly.”

His chest begins to rise and fall at a faster pace. Lenny drags his gaze from my gun and finally takes in his surroundings: the broken glass near the window, the dim lighting, and the musky scent in the air. Everything here is intentionally placed to enhance the atmosphere.

To elicit fear.

Only the best for my victims.

“Wh-what am I doing here, Skylar?” The sweet sound of defeat is clear in his voice. I’m so fucking close to my goal, I can practically taste it. Three years. It’s been three years since my sister was taken from me. Murdered by her famous director boyfriend and his goons.

Three years where I got to watch Franko Warner rise in power and fame, surrounded by the safety of his wealth, while I planned and plotted.

For three years, I’ve been uncovering the staggering number of other victims he’s impacted. I’m determined to find him so I can finally kill the asshole and take some satisfaction in knowing that I did what I could for my sister after she died.

“You’ve been missing for over six days now. I’m starting to think no one cares.” I trace the tip of my gun across Lenny’s bloody cheek, causing him to whimper. There’s always something about this particular weapon that causes people to crack. As if it’s a symbol of their inevitable death.

Maybe it’s because people feel like they have a fighting chance against a knife. Or maybe it’s because something so tiny can extinguish life as easily as blowing out a candle. Either way, it’s making poor Lenny here begin to hyperventilate.

“Si-six days?” he stutters, confusion warring on his face.

“Six days,” I repeat. “The same amount of time I was in a coma, before waking up in a hospital bed, only to discover my sister was already dead.”

“What? No. Who is your sister?”

“Fiona. Fiona Wild,” I say, sticking to her stage name. The same name she used with Franko Warner, the asshole who sucked her into his dangerous world.

Lenny’s face pales.