Amy - An Introduction




Only she knew what a monster she was. Nobody else had a clue. Her neighbours
and friends knew her as the 28 year old single and doting mother of Aaron. Her
colleagues at the big law firm knew her as the highly efficient eye candy
assistant everybody wanted to fuck but couldn't. To the rest of the world,
whoever laid eyes on her, knew her to be the most beautiful woman on the face
of the planet with her shoulder length blond hair and a face that would
mesmerize anyone who ever laid eyes on her. A beautiful smile always lurking
on her lips and a killer and curvy body to boot. Oh yes, she had the body of a
Goddess with beautifully rounded breasts and a perfect curvy figure that
should be an envy of any supermodel there is in this world. Her arms and legs
toned but not heavily muscled. Her abs looking like it has been handcrafted by
a master craftsman.

Only she knew what a monster she was. Nobody else had a clue. Meet Amy, the
serial killer/assassin for the past 10 years. Her victims were exclusively
males and her killing technique was even more unusual. She enjoyed killing her
victims with her bare hands. She always had the view that using weapons was
the doing of a weak minded person. She did not carry any weapons even for self
protection. She considered her hands to be the most lethal weapon in her
armoury.

Amy always got a kick every time she made a 'Kill', as she termed it. Hearing
the choked gurgling noise coming from her victim's throat as she relentlessly
squeezed his throat, she would laugh as loudly as she could feeling a warm
sensation inside of her, a passion she had not been able to elicit with
anything else. She enjoyed it and that meant it was bad news for anyone whom
she chose to 'play' with.

It was a long hard day for John at work. He had just about reached home and
sat down on the couch in the living room when the doorbell rang. He hurriedly
opened the door a little surprised as he was not expecting anyone to call on
him at this late hour. As soon as he opened the door, he was rooted to the
spot at the sight which greeted him. In front of him, stood the most beautiful
woman, he had ever laid eyes upon. Wearing a white cropped top and shorts that
was barely more than underwear, stood Amy. She was wearing leather gloves on
both of her hands which John thought was a bit odd, this being the height of
summer. He could see the dragon tattoo just below her navel and the flashy
belly button ring perfectly fitted in her round deep navel which he thought
could only be a diamond one.

After a few moments of being dumbfounded, he hurriedly invited the woman
inside his flat, his eyes never leaving the tattoo on her belly. Somehow, it
made him uneasy. As soon as they were seated, John looked questioningly at the
strange woman, wanting to ask who she was and what she wanted but
surprisingly, he was unable to open his mouth. Amy was the first to speak.

"Sir, I hope you don't mind my barging in like this, but I saw you coming into
the building from across the street and just wanted to have a glass of water.
I have been up and about all day and have not been able to even eat any of my
meals."

Her sweet sensual voice took his breath away.

"No problem," he somehow spat out feeling embarrassed at the fact that he was
tongue-tied at the sight of her. He quickly went to the kitchen and was back.

Amid conversations he was admiring her shapely legs, when suddenly Amy stood
up and sat just beside John. Her right hand was on his thighs slowly moving
upwards. John had not felt a woman's touch in a very long time. He was
thrilled. Her hand came up his chest and with one swift jerk tore off his tie
with enough force that the top button of his shirt flew off somewhere. A bit
flabbergasted, he was about to protest when he felt her hand encircling his
throat. At first, she squeezed softly and laughed.

"Do you like that honey?" she asked her voice more sensual than before.

John's mouth was open by now. He could not understand what was happening. He
could feel her grip getting tighter with every passing moment. So much so that
in a few seconds he was having difficulty breathing.

"All right. That's enough," he gurgled. "Please stop it."

But she didn't. She smiled at him and kept the one handed death grip on his
throat and squeezed even tighter.

"You don't seem to understand. I am here to kill you." Even though his brain
was shutting off, John had no difficulty realizing the sudden change in the
tone of her voice. From being sensual moments ago, it had become snarling.
Without letting go of his neck, she stood up, adjusting her grip and brought
her till then idle left hand to his neck. Now, she grabbed his throat with
both her hands and started strangling him with all her strength. John tried
kicking out with his feet and caught her a few times on her stomach, once just
below her navel. Far from being an effective move, this seemed to enrage her
even more. Her squeeze tightened even further. He tried to jerk her hands away
from his throat, but her hands did not budge. He caught her wrists with his
hands and desperately tried to pry them away from his neck, again without
success. By now, his lungs were screaming for air. By now the unrelenting
squeezing of his throat was starting to take its toll. He began to slip into
unconsciousness. Amy saw him fainting and smiled. His eyes closed and he was
unconscious within seconds. Amy still kept her grip on for a minute and was
sure by then he was a goner. Removing her hands away from his neck, he checked
his wrists for a pulse. Nothing. She raised his eyelids. It was glazed. Amy
was around death so many times, that she knew he was dead. She stood up and
began to rub her stomach where John's feet had collided admiring her
handiwork. She quietly slipped out of the door and within moments was out of
the building when she saw the doorman. He was reading a paper and looked up. A
slight smirk came across his face.

Amy could read his mind. He thought she was a whore.

Why wouldn't he? The way she was dressed, anyone would think she was a whore.
Without uttering a word she strode towards him. She quickly scanned the area.
Nobody in sight. Good. With a flash of her right hand, she caught him by the
shirt collar and jerked him upwards. Lifting his feet off the air with inhuman
strength which only Amy knew she possessed, she quickly dragged the man to the
back side of the building and threw him on the ground.

His eyes met hers. His was full of fear. Hers was burning with hatred and
anger. As soon as he got up to his feet, she reared back and gave him a punch
that a heavyweight pugilist would have been proud of. Her clenched fist
thudded into his stomach sending him doubling back into the wall behind him.
She was onto him in a flash.

The doorman was so scared, that his eyes were closed. Amy leant forward and
whispered,

"Time to meet your maker, you son of a bitch."

This scared the man so much that he nearly soiled himself. His eyes flew open
as soon as he could feel a hand on his throat, gripping it tightly. He saw Amy
smiling using her right hand to grab his throat. In moments, she jerked her
hand upwards, her grip on his throat unrelenting. The man could feel both of
his feet leaving the ground. Now he was dangling 2 feet in the air by his
neck. She was hanging him with her bare hand.

He began to plead for his life, still thinking that he was having a nightmare.
Here was a beautiful woman strangling him to death with one hand. She was
holding his nearly 200 pound frame in the air with a grip on his throat. How
could someone so pretty be so strong. It took Amy even less time to finish the
doorman off. She could feel his life ebbing away and she squeezed harder and
harder until she felt his body going limp. She slowly lowered the body to the
ground, her death grip still on. Just to make sure, she flicked her wrists,
and broke the man's neck. With utter disdain, she threw the lifeless body to
the ground.