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<center> The Art of Hunting One Part Only
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The headlines once again screamed out the murder, the 5th in a series of killings that shocked this small section of the southwest. The streets were filled with lookiloos trying to see where the murdered body had been found, in an alley way between Ash and Park, in a fairly affluent area of the city. The people milled around horror evident on their faces, wondering what evil vile creature was in their town, right in the midst of them, maybe at that very moment.
The newspapers reported at the FBI issued the standard profile for a serial murderer: a Caucasian male between the ages of 18 and 32 with evidence of child abuse in his background. They added that the man had to be connected to the medial field, with an exaggerated view of himself as a godhead. Finally the FBI added the last element to this profile, the man was gay. This identifying mark was included because the victims were all males, known to be gay orientated, and had showed signs of recent sexual activity before death with a male.
The nude bodies of the victims were all found mutilated; the throats had a deep cut, some internal organs missing, and the genitals removed. Thus the murders were nicknamed the “Gay Jack Killings”, after of course Jack the Ripper whose style the murderer may have copied.
I was intrigue by this murder, determined to find the perpetrator for I was sure he was one of ‘them’. For the last five weeks, one a day the murderer struck. The first was on a Monday, the last on a Friday. Now as the sixth week rolls round, Saturday becomes the focal point for death. The question is where does he picked up the men, at a gay bar or finds them in some obscure glory hole.
The hunt was on; I never failed in getting my prey. I knew how an animal smells and acts before a kill. The same can be found in humans, the need for the blood, the hunger to taste. His emotion of that hate exudes from his pores is the smell I will be seeking out Saturday night.
I was sure he stalked his male victims, watching them closely in the weeks prior to the death. He had to get into the mind of his victim, so he could feel the emotions, the ecstasy, and the pain. Our murderer would fantasize about being with him, fucking him hard and deep before he drank of the blood.
To catch an animal you use bait, I was to be the bait, to lure him to his death. We would meet soon; it was bound to happen as I had been searching the parks and typical meeting areas for gays around Roswell for the last week now. Lot of young tender meat out there, just perfect for a predator like the kind I was hunting. I fucked more men that week than I had in a lifetime, but none had that emotion, that aura I was seeking.
Saturday was fast approaching, he had to feed soon and that need would trap his body into a frenzy until it was satisfied with the blood. I knew how he thought, what actions he would take as he became more and more desperate. The hours were counting down, as dusk fell upon Roswell, either another innocent would die or I would have my bounty.
I choose a local gay bar and settled onto a stool for the night. I dressed carefully, noting what the men he had previously killed wore. Black tight leather pants, white wife beater and a denim shirt, these elements seemed to be predominantly what the men were wearing before their deaths. I choose my drink carefully as well, after getting an autopsy report which showed 4 of the 5 men had alcohol in this system, to be precise bourbon. I ordered a bourbon on the rocks and waited.
In the hours that passed I must had a dozen hit on me, within seconds I could tell they were not the one as I gave the cold shoulder. Then as the midnight hour fell upon the land, I felt him enter the bar. I turned to see him, my prey. My mouth watered at the sight, tall, athletic built, but he was pale, his skin like porcelain, with deep blue eyes concealed in dark shadows. I smile, indicating I liked what I saw. I saw his eyes glint; he was watching me, dreaming about taking me that night. The bait was laid, now to reel him in.
He scanned the room for a few minutes and when he was assured he was safe he crossed the room and sat on the stool next to me. He nodded to me and offered to refill my drink. I of course agreed with a small grin as we exchange the basic meaningless small talk that people do upon first meeting.
“My name is Ki’var.”
“Ki’var? That is an unusual name.” I noted trying to remember if I had heard of this serial killer before.
“Eastern European.” He said with a pause, his eyes peering into my soul, trying to determine who and what I was. “My family came from that region long ago.”
I smiled as I traced his hand with my finger. My mind scanned all the killers as I came to realize why the name was familiar, he was one of the old ones almost forgotten with so many new killers in these days being created; this prey would be well worth my effort. I would get much acclaim from my peers in killing Ki'var one that was ageless.
“I am Max Evans, nice to meet you Ki’var.” I looked carefully at his face for any sign of recognition. I was careful not to use my real name of Zan, but the false human name I had taken. His eyes showed no sign of knowing who or what I was as he looked me over, liking what he saw.
“Like your taste in clothes,” he noted as his hands slid onto my thigh, kneading the flesh through the leather. Had to admit, he was damn good looking for an animal, had a magnetism that was hard to resist, especially for a human male. Even for me it was taking all I had to maintain the façade to make sure he could not penetrate my mind shield and knew not of what I was, as I plied my craft.
I held out my hand, as he took it, not in a hand shake but with a kiss. I took a deep breath as I savored the emotion I picked up from that kiss; he was of immense power and would prove a good adversary.
“So you up for some fun tonight,” he asked as he again kissed my hand, sliding his other hand up my leg.
I masked my face with desire as I looked into his eyes and answered “Fuck yes”.
"Are you worth my time?" He mouthed the words.
I had to laugh as I licked my lips as I said “I am the best." The best at what he would find out.
I leaned over and brushed the front of his pants. Using what gifts I had I instilled a feeling of ecstasy over Ki’var through that small touch, immediately his cooked swelled as he became filled with need to have sex. The blood rushed to Ki’var’s face as he took a deep breath. His eyes took on the look I was waiting for, the fire of hell danced in his eyes.
I know a place.” Ki’var breathed out as he got up and threw down a twenty. I followed as we head out of the bar and walk a few blocks in the crisp air. There was a small park that came up on my right, that is where he was headed, the burial ground for my death.
‘Come on, reveal yourself to me you monster!’ I whisper under my breath as I lick my lips at the anticipation of the battle to begin.
He threw me up against a tree, kissing me hard and deep. He moved down to nip my neck, looking for a vein to open. I reciprocated, tasting his salty flesh. I can feel the maddened blood rushing through his arteries, his aorta pulsing under my tongue as I strove not to puncture him right there and then and spoil all the fun.
His breathing was labored; his eyes darken as he rubs my cock through the leather. "Take off your clothes." Ki’var suddenly demanded as he backed away, his hands shaking with rage and desire. “Strip for me.”
I was enjoying this, as I slowly take off my clothes, taking time to caress myself, pulling on my nipples and stoking my harden cock. I could feel him bursting with the need to kill, the need to take me. I watched carefully as he licked his lips at my nude body, wanting to feel my washboard abs, to bury his cock in my tight ass.
"Ready to fuck?” I asked, walking up to Ki’var, smelling the excitement on his flesh. He dropped suddenly to his knees, grabbing my ass, as he sucks my cock with gusto. An act I had not anticipated but relished the experience anyway. I would kill him after I filled him with my seed.
"Tell me you want it,” the words were guttural, sporadic as he continued to suck me in between words. "Tell me how much you want me to suck you, then fuck you raw.”
I felt strongly his hunger for blood and the desire to drink of the liquid of life. He liked to taste his victim’s sperm to swallow them in a sense, to eat them before he fucked them.
His need to fuck me then kill me was the way his people regenerated, the way they live after death should had claimed them. It was only right I took him in the same method. My body began to vibrate "I want it," I screamed out in ecstasy as I exploded into his mouth, I needed to feed.
Ki'var sucked me down then stood stripping off his clothes, revealing a fine chisel body, created over the centuries from the blood and flesh of humans. He grabbed my neck tasting the adrenalin in my sweat. My excitement was unbearable; my need to kill was as great as Ki'var’s. He was ready to kill me to drain me of my blood.
“Prepare to experience death and sex,” I whispered in his ear as I turned on him, shoving him into the dirt onto his knees. In one swift move I entered him hard, my cock swelling to proportions that ripped and tore him. He grunted and gasped in pain as I assaulted him, he tried to escape my embrace. But none has ever escaped once I set out on a blood hunt, as I sent a charge I sent up his spine to keep him immobile.
I always enjoyed torturing my prey, and this one was no difference, just more pleasurable for me; his ass was tight, my cock was hard as I pounded into him. I wanted him to feel each stroke as I drove myself in deeper. I was on the verge of coming, I felt his cock grow as well, weeping with desire ready to shoot forth that seed of his race that was vile and hated through the universe
Pulling him closer to me, until I could reach his neck with my teeth, “You fucked with the wrong person for I am called Zan, hunter of your kind.” I yelled into the wind as I sunk my teeth into his neck his cock sprayed the ground below with white fluid as his neck dripped red.
He needed to feel what his victims felt as they each died; as they came in a sexual high he killed them, draining them of their sperm and blood to renew his body. My mind saw all his victims as they died, I felt their pain, their vengeance called out to me to I drained him of his life. I sliced off a piece of flesh and suckled the milk from his veins. Ki'var twitched in agony, as I wrapped my arms around him squeezing the blood out.
My cock swelled even more as I felt his heart began to slow and stop as I came deep inside his bowels. With that final act I released those souls into the light
Finally, I was finished as I release the dehydrated corpse letting it fall to the ground. I wipe my mouth, licking off the last bit of blood before I dress and return to hotel I was staying at.
Once back at the hotel I headed right for the shower, scrubbing off Ki’var’s foul order form my body. I heard the door open as my lover entered; I felt his arms surround me as he stepped into the shower. His hard cock nestled between my ass cheeks.
“Hard day.” he cooed in my ear circling his hands around my waist and down to my cock stroking it. I loved the feel of Michael when he held me, made all the hunting worthwhile, the sex we had after a kill was to say the least out of this world.
“Yeah Michael it was,” I used his human name, as we have become accustomed to them. I leaned my neck back into him as he kissed and licked the flesh, “I got Ki'var, of the old line.”
“Ki’var!” Michael tongue lapped at my shoulder, his hand still stroking my cock. “You will be given a big reward back on Antar for he has been wanted for centuries. How did he taste my love?”
I turned to face Michael, the water dripping off my back as I knelt, “Let me show you.” The steam grew heavy as I made love to my partner; the excitement of the hunt drove us to hour on hour of endless sex, as we fucked each other until the high, the adrenaline of victory finally wore off.
As we lay in bed, I dreamed of long ago when we slept in a palace, our every wish fulfilled. But that was before the war had commenced. The Imminia of which Ki'var and his race descended were condemned long ago by our ancestors for they feasted on flesh and blood of the dead as well as children of their own race. In the annihilation that commenced both sides took heavy toll, soon only a few survived on either side. The Imminia fled to the unknown galaxies to find new places to eat and continue their life in hiding. Our people became the hunters, to track them down and exterminate them. That was our duty, which became our way of life.
I woke to Michael rolling me into his arms having felt my dreams of horror and terror. He kissed me deep to release me of that pain, the pain of yesterday. While many different alien hunters existed, from numerous planets hired to hunt and tract various criminals including the Imminia, we do it for honor, out of respect to our ancestors. For we were alone, the only hunters still left alive from our race and the Imminia out numbered us tenfold.
“Tomorrow.” his whispered in my ear, “tomorrow is another day, sleep my love.”
Tomorrow would be another day of watching, waiting, stalking, blood, death, feed, then sex: for this is the art of hunting, alien style.
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