Chapter 12

"So what do you want me to do with her?" Otto asked.

The voice on the other end deliberated a moment before answering, "Our preference would be to put her on the bottom of the river or in a deep hole in the woods. However, if you can come up with another solution where she never gets the opportunity to talk to anyone ever again, we can work with that."

Otto smiled. He had spent the last few months installing a dungeon room in the basement of his house but hadn't had the chance to find an occupant for it. Now he had the perfect opportunity.

"I've got an idea," replied Otto. "I'm assuming you don't need the details."

"We would prefer not. Just make sure it's permanent."

"Will do, sir," answered Otto. "I'll wait for your next call."

The call disconnected, and Otto couldn't help the grin on his face. The bitch had been fun so far, but he still hadn't violated her sweet ass. Maybe he would do that before packing her up and taking her back to his place.

Otto strode back to the bedroom but stopped suddenly as he crossed the doorway. A sharp, searing pain shot from the middle of his chest up to his left shoulder. He looked down and saw Kaylee standing there, still gagged and handcuffed, with his switchblade buried just below his sternum.

A shot of adrenaline raged through him as he grabbed the hilt of the knife. Kaylee continued pushing, and the conflict forced the handle downward, rocking the blade upward into the underside of Otto's heart.

"You fucking cunt," gasped Otto as a torrent of blood poured from the wound.

Kaylee stepped back, and Otto tried to advance on her, but dropped to his knees instead. Two seconds later, he fell forward, a puddle of crimson expanding outward from his corpse.

It took Kaylee a few moments to realize he was really dead and her ordeal was over. She reached up, peeled the tape off her mouth, and pulled out the rag. She'd been gagged for almost the entirety of her captivity, and it felt good to be able to speak again.

"Rot in hell, bastard," she muttered.

Kaylee fished around in Otto's jeans until she found the keys to the handcuffs. Although she had to fumble with the keys due to the lock's position, she eventually freed her hands. As filthy as she felt, it was good to be free once again.

She wandered into the front room where she found her clothes, phone, and camera. Perhaps they were expecting Otto to dispose of the evidence whenever he got rid of her. In any case, she knew who was responsible, and worst case, she could have the police lean on Jonathan, who would likely crack when he realized the number of charges he was complicit with.

She put her clothes on and dialed "911". Recounting last night to the police was going to be unpleasant, but at least now it was over.

THE END